In the Garden of Eden

Isabel asked me whether I live in the garden of Eden. No, not at all. Very often, when I'm on a trip, after a while, I get homesick for the intensity of my home town. But usually, it just seems normal. But in recent weeks, as we approached the "disengagement", the intensity became almost unbearable.

So once again, for the second time this month, I packed the car with those things thought vital, a friend by my side, I rolled north, past Tel Aviv, along the main highway, the air conditioner on, and some music weaving through the sights along the road. Advertisements, buildings, and cars and trucks, and the occasional motorcycle, each going his way, like bubbles in the stream, each in his old world, listening to his own sounds, as we all moved along. I had hoped to leave early in the morning, but I was too distracted. Tried to put together a few presents for friends I hoped to meet, and took care of a few business things before we got out of the city. There was a visit too, and an espresso coffee before we finally hit the road.

I don't usually keep the phone on. Same on this trip. I don't like my thoughts interrupted. There are hours, that I reserve for communication, usually connected to work, but I like the quiet and the peace. We stopped at Kfar Vitkin for a light lunch and a little rest from the driving. It amused me to see the 'big M' of the McDonalds sitting there on the wall of the mall with all the other commercial emblems, reduced to equality among the shops.

We got to the Kibbutz just a bit before the sun went down. I called it earlier, Eden, but it is more like Eden lost. It was Eden when I lived there, infatuated by the idea of a communal society. Everything I had read about, regarding the principles of economic equality were practiced there. Each gave to the community according to his capacities, and received in return according to his needs. I loved the place, and I had friends that I loved and admired there. The place was built beautifully; the houses were surrounded by gardens There were a lot of young people there then, including city kids who wanted a taste of the country, and volunteers from all over the world. We used to eat in the communal dining room, where we all got together to watch a movie about once a week, at night. People are much more centered in their private houses these days. In fact, the kibbutz has officially ceased to be a commune. Everyone pays rent, and if they work on the kibbutz, they get a pay check. And if they don't, they can get a job in some village nearby or a nearby city. People eat in their little cottages, but you can still get a meal if you want in the cafeteria, that's what the communal dining room has become.

We visited with Durit and David, and with Mira and Eden, and took a few walks. I wanted to spend some time at the reservoir, which had been seriously restyled in the last few years. I sat there as it got darker, listening to the birds and the insects at evening time, and to the trickle of water as it made its way through the rocks. I hoped that the kibbutz was not a metaphor on the plight of Israel as a whole. Most of all, I just enjoyed the beauty of the place.

14/8/05

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