Jewish Geography

Jewish geography is an interesting game, one which I get to play fairly regularly here in Israel. I meet someone, and within the first five minutes, we have found a connection of one kind or another. Perhaps even more poignant is the fact that wherever I go, I bump into people that I know from Australia and occasionally even from South Africa and England.  Today I had a particularly unusual experience! I came across someone I’d met once in the Arava – albeit extremely briefly – sitting on the grass on the promenade which leads to Emek Refaim in Jerusalem. It went something like this...

Having spent a few days in Gush Etzion, which included a wonderful seder with Yossi and Chana Tsurel and their family, I decided to join Chana in Jerusalem today. She dropped me off at the old train station near Emek Refaim which has been turned into a bustling area filled with shops and restaurants. After strolling around and enjoying the warm weather and holiday atmosphere, I was making my way towards Emek Refaim to window shop and have a coffee when I heard someone call out: “Mrs Sabel”. And there was Yoni, the Zionist madrich who is at present working at Bialik College in the informal education department. He lives in the area and as he was walking home, he recognised me from the back! We chatted briefly, swapped numbers and I continued on my way …

A minute later, just before I turned off the promenade, I noticed someone sitting on the grass. I recognised the face but couldn’t place it. Australia – no! South Africa – also not! England – definitely not! Which left Israel … but where in Israel? And then the penny dropped. I’d attended a lecture of hers at Limmud Arava in March which questioned whether society can still use the axiom of what ‘a reasonable person’ would have done in a given situation to decide whether a person is guilty or not. I’d sat through the lecture and understood all of it, but had wanted to clarify the difference in Hebrew between murder and manslaughter, so I’d stayed behind after the lecture to ask.

And so it was that I joined Dr Orit Kamir and her friend on the grass and we talked about Israeli society, what constitutes a reasonable person and why on earth I would want to spend six months living in Israel if my home is in Australia, a great place to live according to the general consensus. And I agreed! Australia is a great place to live and I am very grateful to have a home there. But for better or for worse, my soul resides in Israel and right now, I am in the process of creating a path which will enable me to live happily in two places – literally and virtually.

I am confident that together with those I love, I will succeed in paving a way that will enable me to merge my two worlds, thereby minimising the internal conflict with which I have contended for so many years. And I look forward to many more episodes of interesting Jewish geography!

AICAT - The Arava International Centre for Agricultural Training

Learning is an ongoing process. We learn new words, facts, skills and techniques every day, at home, in the work environment, on the Internet and through social media. People are then at liberty to incorporate what they have learnt into their lives as they see fit. Each individual is also blessed with the ability to seek out learning opportunities and experiences in order to enrich his life.

When I was in the Arava at the end of 2013 with a group of Australian volunteers from the Arava Australia Partnership, we visited AICAT – the Arava International Centre for Agricultural Training – which is located on Sapir, a community settlement in the Central Arava Sapir. I met the centre’s director, Chani Arnon, a dynamic and energetic woman who has built up a learning centre of note. She is revered by students and colleagues alike and is always looking for ways to improve and further develop AICAT.

AICAT’s student body is made up of young people from eight different countries – Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, Myanmar, Nepal, Indonesia and most recently, Ethiopia and South Sudan. The students are engaged in tertiary education in the area of agriculture and are enrolled at AICAT for a ten month diploma in agriculture. Although most of their studies take place in the field itself, they also attend lectures in various areas of agriculture as well as in business innovation and marketing. At the end of their course, they will return to their countries to implement the knowledge they have acquired and hopefully impact positively on their own communities.

In February, I attended the Arava community’s open day held at the Research and Development Centre in Hatzevah. This event offers a veritable smorgasbord of all the business ventures, fresh produce, manufactured and handcrafted items that the Arava has to offer, as well as a snapshot of the educational institutions such as the Shittim School and AICAT. Following the open day, I initiated a meeting with Chani. I really wanted to get involved in some way with AICAT and was convinced that I had something to offer them.

G-d, the universe and luck were all on my side! AICAT recently pioneered a Master’s degree program in conjunction with Tel Aviv University and fifteen Vietnamese students are registered on the course. They found themselves short of an English teacher for the second semester (which runs from the beginning of March to the end of June) and these students have their classes on a Sunday, the one day of the week that I don’t teach at the Shittim School!

I continue to seek out learning opportunities and new experiences and am always very excited when an interesting one comes my way! I start teaching at AICAT this coming Sunday!

The Desert

The Desert

As mentioned previously, when travelling, one’s experiences are made up to a large extent of the places one visits and the people one meets.

The place …..

In September last year, a small group of new families came to live in the Arava. Amongst the new arrivals was a seven year old boy called Levanon Elinson who is in Year 2. In January, Levanon’s teacher decided to exhibit his artwork for the rest of the school community to enjoy. This young boy’s artistic rendition of what he observes around him made a very big impression on me, largely because it reflects much of what I see and feel here in the Central Arava.

My current surroundings bring me a level of calm and serenity which I have never experienced before.  Huge expanses of open space fill my soul, providing an unexpected sense of stability. As I drive to and from work on road 90, my eyes absorb the miles and miles of hills and sand in varied shades of brown.  The vegetation is sparse but the Acacia trees are abundant, using their double root system to survive the harsh conditions of the desert.  

Water is not plentiful in this area and needs to be brought to the fields from other parts of Israel for the purposes of agriculture. What the farmers in this area have created is nothing short of a miracle! The most popular crop here is peppers (red, yellow and orange) and they are truly delectable: sweet, crunchy and a staple part of everyone’s diet. They also grow - among other things - dates, melons, cherry tomatoes and eggplant. Once they have been harvested, the fruit and vegetables are exported overseas and also marketed locally.

The week after I arrived in the Central Arava, I donned my tracksuit and runners and Iphone in tow, walking and jogging, I covered the circumference of the moshav in about half an hour. Since getting sick, which included a very bad cold, as well as an allergy attack (there is a first time for everything!), I have not returned to this exercise routine – which I was doing three to four times a week. Aside from the obvious benefits of regular physical activity, for both body and mind, there is something else that is drawing me back there. On more than one occasion, as I focused on my route and expended large amounts of energy getting to my intended destination, I looked up to see the sun setting behind the mountains. And once again, being the born and bred city girl that I am, I was in awe of the beauty of this desert!

And finally, I am reminded of the blessing said in the morning which thanks Hashem for giving the rooster the wisdom to differentiate between day and night. There is something very special about waking up to the sound of a rooster crowing in the immediate vicinity! But I have to say from personal experience, when it crows at 4 o’clock in the morning, it is clearly confused as to when daytime actually begins!

The People

There are two things in the Arava that have inspired the very deep relationship I have cultivated with this place: the people and the land. I have created strong friendships which continue to develop and have established meaningful bonds with some amazing people from all walks of life. These include (among others) Orit and Ido – who make awesome lunches and have a washing machine that works, Peter and Reuvat – who add a whole new dimension to the concept of ‘hachnasat orchim’ (the mitzvah of having guests over in one’s home), Naomi – who makes great hot drinks and is always interested in what’s going on in my life, Hagit – who stated explicitly from the outset that I should be Israeli and not wait patiently for an invitation to come over and Ofrit K – who is so enthusiastic about Ashira’s impending arrival (as are her twin girls, who Ashira met three years ago and has remained in touch with).

One of the aspects missing for me in the Arava has always been religion. This place is not exactly overflowing with Torah-observant people; in fact, around here I am regarded as somewhat of a religious phenomenon. (Gotta love it!) That is to say that people don’t really know where to place me on the spectrum of Jewish observance. So what a wonderful surprise it was for me to discover that there is a group of five religious families who have come to live in the Arava. I have already met some of them at school and at the home of Nadav (a colleague from work) and his wife Hadas and it has certainly made me more at ease, especially regarding spending Shabbat in the Arava.

And so it happened that this past weekend, the abysmal weather in this country prevented me from travelling up to Gush Etzion last Thursday afternoon. The area was covered in snow and as a result, many of the roads were closed. I was bitterly disappointed and immediately needed to put into place a plan B for Shabbat. Enter Harav Bloi and his wonderful wife Chani who - as you would expect in the middle of the back of beyond (loosely translated into South African as ‘the boendoe’) – run a Chabbad House situated on Sapir (the settlement which houses the Shittim School where I work). I met Chani three years ago at the Shittim primary school where she works as the school councillor. She and her husband were the only religious people I came into contact with in the area when I was on the teacher exchange progarm. 

I ate Friday night dinner and Shabbat lunch with the Bloi's and was made to feel extremely welcome in their home. They have ten children, all of whom were at home on the weekend, although three of them study away from the Arava during the week. I was exposed to many interesting and thought-provoking insights about parashat Shmot which was discussed in detail as many of the children shared what they had learnt by Skype during the week. Yes, that’s right. They are educated through a distance education system set up by Chabad for those families living in remote countries/areas who don’t have access to regular Chabad schools. Quite amazing!

The first time I came to the Arava, an area so remote and cut off from mainstream city life in Israel, there was no supermarket. During one of my visits two years later, a large, functional supermarket had been built on Moshav Ein Yahav.

The first time I came to the Arava, there were no religious people in this area other than the rabbi and his family. Three years later, there are an additional five families living happily in what is ostensibly an extremely secular community.  Wonders never cease! I have a place; I feel at home.

Twinning Ceremony at the Acacia School

Bet Sefer Shittim (the Acacia School) in the Central Arava region is the local school for the children in the region. It consists of both a primary and secondary school and I am privileged to be able to work as an English teacher in both.

In the secondary school, I have been warmly accepted as a member of the English department. The teachers in this department are: Nadav (who only teaches one class as he is the principal), Denise, Gila, Glynn and Pinchas. On Monday 5 January, I attended a very meaningful ceremony in Year 7, organised by Denise and Glynn - a twinning ceremony between each of the children in the class, and a child who never got to have a bar/batmitzah because he/she was killed during the Holocaust. 

In Melbourne, such a vast majority of the Jewish community are descendants of Holocaust survivors. Yom Hashoah is a not just a day when we remember people in general who were murdered by the Nazis but rather, a day when families remember their lost ones. In contrast, growing up in South Africa, I and most of my friends were fairly removed from the events of the Holocaust and the memorial day for this terrible period in our history did not touch most of us personally. So it is in the Arava. Most of the children here do not have a personal connection with the Holocaust. However, it is part of the national fabric of the country and of the Jewish people and as such, it is important for them to learn about it.

The students were asked to find the name of a child who perished in the Holocaust and gather some basic information about this child. Each student wrote a short paragraph in English and practised it in order to be able to present it in a public forum. Public speaking is a challenging task for the best of us and how much more so in a foreign language! On the day of the ceremony, the excitement in the class was palpable. Some were nervous but all were looking forward to the experience. The proceedings began with a piece of writing read out by Glynn and one of the students. Each line began: 'At my barmitzvah ...', with the student completing the sentences with what is relevant to him and his friends in today's day and age whilst Glynn completed each sentence with what children during the Holocaust experienced at the time of their bar/batmitzvah. 

As each student read what he/she had written and by so doing, the memory of the souls of the children who perished was perpetuated. |A candle was placed infront of each student and as the words emanated, Denise lit the candle. The students were serious, the mood was sombre and it was clear to all observing that this was something these Year 7 students would remember forever. 

Towards the end of the ceremony, Denise read a story about a man who survived the Holocaust. Whilst in a concetration camp, he celebrated a birthday and was given half a loaf of bread as a gift from his family. He was so cognisant of the fact that in order to provide him with this gift, the members of his family had to go without bread themselves that he found it difficult to eat. However, they were adament that he should enjoy his birthday meal. The man made a vow that if he were to survive and have a family of his own, he would celebrate his own son's barmitzvah with an abundance of bread for his guests. And so it came to pass. 

Denise became extremely emotional during the reading and the students listened intently. When asked what they had learnt from the project as a whole, many responded that it is important to be grateful for everything that we have and also, to remember those who can't have anything anymore because they are no longer alive. The teachers and parents who attended the ceremony were clearly moved by both the content and the enthusiastic participation of the kids. Kudos to Denise and Glynn for a job well done.    

In the beginning ...

They say that one should take advantage of every opportunity that comes one's way ... which is precisely what I was doing!

It was January 2012 and I was in Israel for a month on a teacher exchange program facilitated by the Arava Australia Partnership. I was teaching at the local primary school (the Acacia School or in Hebrew, בית ספר שיטים) and was living on moshav Ein Yahav. I was on my way home, having attended a professional development session after school with some of the staff, and had stopped my hired car off the side of the road that leads to the moshav.

The phone rings. I answer it. It is Liat, one of the teachers I have just spent the last couple of hours with. The conversation goes something like this ...

Me: Hi.

Liat: Hi.

Me: How are you?

Liat: Good. How are you?

Me: Just fine. 

Liat: Oh. Good to know.

Me: Yep. I'm really good. 

Liat: Good. I just thought ...

Me: No, I'm fine.

Liat: Happy to hear.

(And then the penny drops!)

Me: Why? Did you just drive past me?

Liat: Yep.

Me: And you're wondering why I've stopped on the side of the road ...

Liat: Kind of ...

Me: You thought maybe I had a puncture or something?

Liat: Yeah. 

Me: No. Nothing like that. Everything's cool.

Liat: Oh. So ...

Me: So you're asking yourself what I'm doing here?!

Liat: Yes ...

Me: OK. I'll tell you, if you promise not to laugh.

Liat: I promise not to laugh!

Me: Well, I'm looking out of the window of my car at a tree. I've falled in love with this Acacia tree which stands all on its own, and just survives ... day after day, week after week, month after month and year after year. I'm a city girl and really don't have much connection with nature ... but I've officially adopted this tree as my own. I'll take photos of the tree so I can look at it all the time once I'm back in Australia, but whilst I'm still here, I want to see it for real.

Three seconds of deafening silence follow, during which I think to myself: You'd better get used to this, 'cause if you go back to Australia and tell this story, not only will silence follow, but they'll want to lock you up in a straight jacket. And then Liat says:

Liat: Not only won't I laugh, but the truth is, what you said really touched me. It's the kind of thing I would do!

I breath a sigh of relief ... and understand from this interaction that there are two types of people who live in the Arava: those who fall in love with trees, and those who live with those who fall in love with trees. No one thinks it's insane.

And I vowed that I would come back here, for an extended period. 

So here I am in the Arava for the next six months, fulfilling my promise - and living my dream!