By Randi Gordner
“You must not think of this as a year off, but a year ‘on’.” These were some of the first words that greeted us, the guinea pigs of the 10-month Israel volunteer program, Tikun Olam in Tel Aviv. We were a ragged bunch; exhausted from our long flights, excited for the adventures to come and extremely confused as to what we would actually be doing in the near future. The date was Sept. 1 and we were gathered in Ramat Ef’al for an orientation run by Bina, the organization that had brought us to Israel. Sitting in a circle with one staff member in between each participant, we introduced ourselves and tried to give some coherent explanation about why we were in Israel.
Why was I in Israel? As I attempted to listen to my group-mates’ introductions, I could not help thinking about what I would say. My decision to embark on this program was not one about which I spent a long time thinking. After graduating with a combined theatre and comparative literature degree from McMaster University in April, I knew I was not ready to head back to school in the fall. Two options seemed quite inviting; I could partake in an internship to further my career goals or I could travel. It was during this period of uncertainty that I received the e-mail regarding a new program for university graduates from English-speaking countries to volunteer in Israel, for 10 months, under the auspices of Bina, a secular, pluralistic organization with a focus on Jewish identity. Perhaps the most inviting part of the program was the fact that not only would I be volunteering with other people from English-speaking countries, but I would be volunteering with my Israeli peers as well.
What kind of volunteering would we be doing? We were told that we volunteer in many different capacities and that we would have the opportunity to experience a variety of challenges. It was not exactly the concrete explanation for which I was looking, but it did not take much convincing to get me on the plane.
Fast forward to the present and I am sitting here, enjoying my free time. We do not get much of it during the first part of the program. For the first six weeks, my group is living on the tiny kibbutz of Beit Guvrin, which is situated almost directly between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. The kibbutz is lovely; it’s green and I cannot eat enough of the fresh tree-grown fruit. There is a beautiful pool that we take advantage of each and every afternoon and the people are friendly.
The kibbutz life, however, has changed over time. The dining hall is only open for lunch instead of for every meal and the children live with their parents instead of residing in the children’s house. Perhaps the biggest change is that members receive a salary, instead of receiving the same benefits equally. No longer a socialist ideal, this Kibbutz (like most in Israel) has ventured toward capitalism. You can see the effects of the changes immediately upon entering the Kibbutz. Those who make large salaries can afford to build beautiful two-story houses with beautiful gardens, while members making less live in dreary run-down stucco squares.
The kibbutz is quiet. It is a rare day that we see many people outside, but when we do, everyone is very friendly. Every Monday we travel in pairs and visit kibbutz families. My host family is Danny, Batina and their two children, Liran who is a lively, intelligent 7-year-old and her brother Leor, a comedian even at the mere age of 9. Each week they serve us wonderful nana (mint) tea and a host of tasty treats. Batina, who emigrated from Denmark many years ago, picks pomegranates, plums and apples from her yard and feeds us until we cannot eat anymore. We float between our comfortable English and our rusty Hebrew, only to dissolve in a fit of giggles, as the children listen to our muddled sentences.
Each day we try to improve our Hebrew as we sit through almost 5 hours of Ulpan. Our teacher, Chava, is wonderful. She’s a grandma as well as a force of nature. Chava is energetic, friendly and demands our best. With only a few weeks left of Ulpan, I’m hoping she can help me find the Hebrew that I used to know so well back in the days of Associated Hebrew Day School in Toronto.
Aside from Ulpan, our days are filled with seminars, workshops and trips. Thus far we have learnt about Israeli geography, crawled through itsy-bitsy caves to the point of exhaustion, travelled to Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, and merely scratched the surface as we attempted to dissect our Jewish identities.
This is the group bonding time and we have to relish it. Come mid-October, we will be packing up our things and heading to Kiryat Shalom, a very poor neighbourhood in south Tel Aviv. There we will be living in apartments and volunteering within the community on different projects. Our focus will shift from each other to others. I am expecting culture shock on various levels. Not only will we be leaving the serenity of the kibbutz for the noise and bustle of the city, but my middle-class sensibilities will be tested as I live among those who have close to nothing. I am looking to the future with an open mind and much anticipation.
I have now been in Israel for more than two weeks and I know that although my decision to come was slightly impulsive, it was a good one. I have already met wonderful people from all over, and revisited sites that I was not fully able to appreciate back when I was 16. Although I am itching to get to Tel Aviv and start the major part of our program – or our year ‘on’ – I am thankful I still have a month to brush up on my Hebrew and relax under the ever-sunny skies of the kibbutz.
Shalom and L’Hitraot!
This article originally appeared in the Jewish Tribune (Toronto) on September 29, 2005. It can be viewed in its original form here, and the Jewish Tribune's homepage can be found here. The article is reprinted here with permission from the Jewish Tribune and its contents have not been altered.
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