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.
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