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!