Neot Smadar
Trip Start
Nov 13, 2006
1
75
80
Trip End
Oct 21, 2008
Eilot,
Israel
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I looked around my new bedroom; hanging on the thin white wall in front of my futon was a drape, and there was a pencil drawing of an owl above my head. The time and effort put into these simple decorations gave this little hut an atmosphere of tranquility which was almost enough to calm me down, but pencil drawings weren't going to be enough to overcome the turmoil in my head.
In fact I had made a plan. It was thought through like the moves in a chess game and all I needed to do was stick to it; I would spend a week or two on Kibbutz Neot Smadar, a week in Tel Aviv, and then fly back to London to pick up my life there as a teacher where I had left it 10 months ago. With a big pile of mail waiting to be sorted out, and with the new school year starting in September, it made sense to go back now. Yet something wasn't sitting right and it was whirling round in my head like a storm.
I walked out my room into the bright desert sun. Small huts here were spaced apart with hammocks, sofas, and hanging decorations in most of the shaded front porches. The sprawled out neighbourhoods made this place like a maze and the heat was oppressive, but eventually the stone paths and sand gave way to a paved path alongside a green garden and I was at the dining hall.
almond picking at dawn
I walked inside and saw where the leftmost table was slowly filling up with poople. I followed the rules that had been explained to me by taking the next available empty chair and silently took a piece of bread. In front of me was a large dish of fresh, uncut slad vegetables, some wholeweat bread, olives, and a couple of other condiments. All that could be heard was the sliding about of plates on the table, the chopping of knives against plates, and the occasional muffled whisper. I pointed to the water jug; in Neot Smadar meals are eaten in silence.
I have been here 2 weeks now. Neot Smadar is was a world away from the Kibbutz Ketura, and all the things I disliked about Ketura seem to be remedied here. People make an effort to learn your name quickly, there is no obvious hierachy - indeed there doesn't really seem to be a distinction betwen members and volunteers, who work alongside each other doing different jobs every day that are pinned up on a rosta outside the dining hall. You are more likely to hear a drum or guitar than loud blaring music, the food is simple but wholesome and tasty, there is no small talk, and the surroundings are beautiful. This is an old fashioned and a very special kibbutz.
If you were to arrive here on a Friday night you might think you were in a scene out of a science fiction film. People dressed in white dance about to happy music in a big circle. The dance is creative and crazy, yet somehow orchestrated with precision. Two people lead in the middle whilst the rest follow until the gong sounds and everyone freezes.
almond grove
Set against the palm trees and the mountains it looks like some kind of Eutopia, and after the dance everyone brings the tables outside to eat in the open air.So far I have done all sorts of jobs from milking goats to laying electrical wiring. At the moment we work from 5am till 1pm, and then do a few hours in the afternoon or the evening. The hours are so long you are left with little free time, sometimes we work in the midday sun (and this is midsummer) - but it a pleasant working atmosphere and I never hate the work itself. Everything on the farm is organic and the animals are treated better than on other kibbutzim. Right now it is date harvesting season - one of the biggest income earners and a twenty four hour operation.
The mental torment going round in my head for the first few days subsided, but gave way to a kind of sadness. 'anything you feel is coming from inside yourself' said David my mentor. Every now and then he comes up to me and we sit on the grass under the shade of a palm tree. He explains some kibbutz rules - keep your shoulders covered, don't leave the kibbutz without seeking permission, don't invite friends round wthout permission. The rules maintain the atmosphere of integration and tranquility. After meals people congregate on the lawn outside the dining hall. Often people will sit in pairs and you can see from the body language that the conversation is deep and meaningful. People always speak quietly. Sometimes I wonder if they have any life left in them. Sometimes I want to grab their shoulders and shake them to see if any emotion will come out at all.
This is definitely not for everyone but if you want a kibbutz experience the old fashioned way and more then this is an interesting place to come. Without any distractions one is left to ones thoughts; even during work there is never any music. It plays on your emotions and there is a big emphasis on self discovery - 'if you dont like something you should ask yourself why. Everything that comes up here is something inside yourself', they say.
The sadness I felt in my first week has dissapared. Mainly I had been regretting my decision to leave Ketura, especially as I had been working in a field that interested me, but when I went to visit the other day it just seemed grotty. Ketura did however have certain things that are missing here - a sense of life, a sense of fun, and my favorite Israeli innovation - the TLV chairs.
