So what do you do when your commanding officer gives you an illegal order? You disobey him, of course. Unless that order is to break into the swimming pool that is not open after you've been in the desert for two weeks.
Which made me reflect on a thing. I've long been a member of some fringe body--in high school, the army, even well into my adult life. I end up with the outsiders. Climb the fence, Avi said, and I did. It was so nice to swim. As we swam Avi and me went to the deep end for some deep talk. He was telling me about Mitspe Ezuz, where he lives. In Israel there are cities, kibbutzim, and moshavim. Cities are cities. A kibbutz is a community where things are shared; back in the day the kids all slept in on building away from their folks, food was dispensed from the kibbutz, and everything a member earned was given to the kibbutz. Today there is more private ownership, and the kids live with their folks. The kibbutzim are now more like a moshav, except the moshav does not share work or eating space. There is, of course, crossover, but communities are growing to be more like a moshav, which would be a gated community in the states.
So this conversation started because there was one other guy who broke into the pool was from guess where--yep, Ezuz. Mitspe Ezuz. So Ezuz is not a city, kibbutz, or moshav. It falls outside all of these. It is a community of separatists, in that they want to be private. Even in dealing with the government, they want their autonomy, which the other communities doen't have. There is always a governing body in the other three. Ezuz is Arabic, and it means kind of happily moving about, maybe dancing happily. Mitspe means it is none of the other types of communities, and there are only a handfull in Israel. Yep, I'm outside again.
The day ended with planting some vegetables in the garden and cutting corn. Nothing too heavy, which was nice because I was beach drunk. You know, when you go to the beach for a few hours and you go home in the most mellow of moods. I've determined today that I love the beach and would be saddened if I didn't live near one. Does Nashville have beaches?
I'll find out...
ReplyDeleteSo who owns the swimming pool in the desert? And are Israelis making political statements when they decide which kind of community they'll live in? Is that why your host family doesn't hang out with the other folks in the 'hood?
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm really wondering where the water comes from to grow an orchard, because all over the world it's the people who control the source of water who control everything else: Water means money and money means power. And seriously Mark, of course you're outside again. When you get old, like me, you can be a curmudgeon, too.
Did everyone have to climb the fence? And please don't move to Nashville, we'll miss you all too much!
ReplyDelete@Val. I'm sure you will! I cannot wait to hear what you are doing with Quaver.
ReplyDelete@Alice. Lorrett and Lulu went under, and the rest of us went over. We found out later that there was a hole in the fence on a side we didn't check. Avi said we'll do that next time.
@Ann. The moshav we went to owns the pool, and are residents pay to go to it, which is why Avi had no qualms about negotiating the fence.
And the Israelis are definitely making statements by choosing where to live, regardless of what type of community. There are even many different flavors of kibbutzim. I asked about the water and land, and Avi said that you cannot even get the land without having the water rights. Avi worked for three years to get his orchard going. I cannot even imagine the price he pays for water, but he sells his way-too delicious fruits and vegetables for a handsome price. He doesn't seem to be hurting for money. He prides himself on being frugal and even cheap. But he has no problems spending money when necessary.
The water comes from a natural spring around here somewhere, but the water is salty. So it goes through a desalination process. Avi hates that the other minerals are taken out, but he loves his orchard; so he is willing to suffer processed water. Plus, he collects water the way they've been doing so for thousands of years. He put his orchard in the valley and created steppes to move the water. I'm working on a dam now to help with the process.
Curmudgeon? Maybe soon we can summer together, drink mint juleps, and complain about everything?
I'm so glad y'all are reading the posts. It makes me feel loved.