I have been trying to get into the habit of bringing a piece of paper and pen with me to the fields of the kibbutz. I initially brought the paper and pen to write down new Hebrew words and phrases I learn. Some days, the sheet is filled with just that; other days, it is filled with other things…
This particular sheet was from a few days ago. I decided to type it up, and share it with you. You might not understand what I’m talking about……
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My eyes sting as I try to shake out the morning with
a strong cup of coffee
Each time that I look out the window, the night has moved further away
Soon the sun will rise….for now-we are in limbo: The night has disappeared, but still not day.
No longer past-but not yet future.
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Terms and numbers such as:
UN RES 181, 242, 338….1956, 1967, ’73 and Baker-Hamilton
Have been replaced by:
John Deere 4890, Maxxum 5140, Massey-Furguson 390
The intellectual and legal defense of Israel that I’m used to (quoting treaties, resolutions and papers), has been replaced by the physical and tangible defense of Israel through working her land. Yesterday, I sat on the back of the Massey-Furguson, Today, it’s the Maxxum.
I walk through a field of green wheat…I always assumed wheat was brownish-tan in color. I thought about it logically…. when wheat grows, its green…and only once dried, it turns brown.
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Sounds in the cilantro field:
Fighter Jets (the sound is far behind the planes)…The Muslim call to prayer coming from the territories…The faint sound of cars and trucks from the nearby road….wind
Smells of the cilantro field:
Fresh cut cilantro, something burning North-East of me
Sights from the cilantro Field:
To my South-West-The separation wall which separates Us from Them
To my East-The hills of Jordan
To my South and North- Open fields…Brown, green and every shade in between
Above-The rays of the sun shoot beams of light through the sporadic grey clouds
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Every Morning Amatsyah and Eitan yell at each other. It could be my sub-par Hebrew, but I am pretty sure that they are not really fighting about anything. I guess the daily yelling is sort of a ritual to begin the long day.
“Why haven’t you fixed the tractor yet?” Amatsyah yells.
“I’m talking to Moshe”, replies Eitan.
“So I need to wait for you to finish your conversation until I can work.” Amasyah shoots back.
“What’s your problem!?”
I cant help but notice they each have a handgun and their back right hip.
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Look-alikes at the kibbutz:
There is one guy who looks like the guy in MAD magazine.
There is another guy that looks like Christopher guest (Best in Show, Waiting for Guffman…).
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A man stops me as I walk to breakfast-
Look up” He says as he points the “V” shape in the sky.
“Koranim” He tells me are the name of the birds.
The birds instinctively fly in the “V” formation in order to utilize the airflow.
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Everything on the Kibbutz is simple. Simple jobs, simple routine. Unwind, wind, dig, cut, connect, disconnect, drive, weed…..Not many surprises. I guess, when you live with such uncertainty outside of your community (A mere 5 km away sits an Arab country who waged war against us a few decades ago), simplicity and routine are comforting.
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Worn in pants from years prior
Out of commission tractors from back when
existence was far from assured
Metal scraps and debris remind me of history-
a time when working the land was futile
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