More Hermans

Once again I would like to remind all readers that I am now in England and so the events narrated her happened a number of weeks ago.

My last few days on Kibbutz went by without much incident. I spent my last day of work taking copious amounts amounts of photos, and during our break we shared a few bottles of wine, which didn't exactly help our productivity, but I did achieve one of my life's ambitions, which was to slap someone with a fish (the moment has been photographed and is on facebook). Our final day on Kibbutz was the Jewish festival of Shavuos and so we had the day off, which meant we could pack without much rush. In the evening was the Champions League Final so we all enjoyed the Scousers loosing, well I did anyway.

The next day I left early with Richard and Annabel, Nick was getting a later bus, as we were going all the way up North to Shantipi. If you can remember all the way back to October I talked about a music festival on the beaches of the Galilee, well Shantipi was very similar.

On our way up we had to go to the MDA flat in Tel Aviv to drop some stuff up, as we were not going to take all our possessions up to the festival with us. Getting out of the bus station is not the easiest thing in the world especially when you have several large bags, as to get out you mass through small turnstiles. To combat this problem I passed all my bags over the small low lying metal fence on to the other side. As I was trying to lug my big suitcase over, Richard noticed that my small rucksack was leaking, I thought this was rather strange as I didn't remember any liquids in there. Then I suddenly remembered I had two bottles of beer in my bag, I dashed through the turnstile and ran straight to my bag. Ignoring Annabel and Richard's warnings of broken glass I ripped my bag open and took everything out to try and salvage my stuff from the wrecking nature of beer and broken glass. Once I had saved everything, no real damage thank God, I realised that my hands had been cut in several places, and that I had left behind a small puddle of beer and blood. I cleaned up in a local shop, and we made our way to the flat where I spent an hour, with a head torch on taking pieces of glass out of my bag. I must have looked very strange especially to a few FZY girls who came into the flat during my operations.

We finally returned to the bus station, the mess had been cleaned up, and got on the bus to Tiberias. The traffic made the journey about twice as long as we should have been, and we were really running late, this was compounded by a half hour wait at the bus station for a sheroot to the other side of the lake where the festival was. We finally arrived there, slightly despondent as a couple of Israelis that we had met at the bus station, had told us that that Shotei Hanevua the band we were all desperate to see had played the day before. We were therefore delighted by the news that not only had they not played, but that they would be playing in a couple of hours time, and so we hurriedly put up our tent, so that we would not missed them. We needn't have worried as they appeared an hour late. They were very good but not quite as good as the last time we saw them at the beginning of the year.

I think Israeli music festivals must be the only place in the world where you can given directions to your tent by saying, go left at the Scientologists, rick at the Chabad and look directly behind Jew for Jesus, for that was where our tent could be found. You could also go to one of these festivals and not bring any food and be able to have three square meals a day without paying a penny. For all these organisations, except the Scientologists the stingy bastards, would give you free food, so long as you were prepared to listen to them preach to you for a few minutes. We put this theory to the test when we went to Jews for Jesus for breakfast, and I had a small theological discussion with some guy from Luton.

As part of the ticket price, there was entry to a neighbouring water park, and so the three of us spent most of our day in the pools, annoyingly for a festival that was on the beach, the sea was cordoned off, but as the water park had showers as well we weren't complaining. Dinner was an interesting experience, as once again we found ourselves having a free dinner. Richard had gone to the prayer tent for Friday night prayers, and I said I would join him if there was going to be free food, its the way I work. Anyway I went down later to the prayer tent to look for him to discover he was not there. I called them up to discover that they were with a group of Messianic Jews. The group he had found, were a group of people who kept Jewish practices but believed that Jesus was the Messiah, i.e. they followed Christianity in its earliest form. They had a rather alternative Friday night service, which was interesting to witness and then we had dinner with them. The food unfortunately was rather plain, but they were very interesting to talk to, and before we left they even invited us back to where they lived in Isfiyah, in the hills above Haifa.That evening the headliner was Aviv Geffen, one of the biggest names in Israeli music. I knew very little of his work, but his music a sort of classic rock was very accessible and his performance, even for a complete newcomer to his work was excellent.

Saturday was also spent largely in the water park. In the afternoon we relaxed to the sounds of a very chilled out world band, and then we plucked up our courage and stifled our laughs as we went to the big yellow tent that belonged to the Scientologists. We were first asked to fill in forms so that we could be contacted and then we were taken individually to have some tests done on us. The test consisted of being asked questions while holding metal rods, there was also a dial and without answering the questions the interrogator could deduce the way you felt on certain subjects by looking at a dial. I realised almost at once that the metal rods were pressure sensors and so I just held it in my open palm and then squeezed at random points. The guy asking me the questions failed to realise, but still managed to conclude that I had problems relating to others, and that my problems could be solved if I brought the book. He regretted to inform me that unfortunately he did not currently have any copies in English, but told me to go along to the Tel Aviv office, where I could buy the book and see a film, wait for it , for free. I had to go round the back of the tent before I permitted myself to break out into a fit of hysterics.

And then it was time to go, a speedy ride back to Tiberius, and then back to Jerusalem for the first of two parts, of the the end.

Crackheads and Hermans

From now on the following articles are being written not in Israel but in the comfort of my own home, this means that I am writing about events that may have happened a couple of weeks ago, and so not all that I describe is fresh in the mind.

Kibbutz volunteers are an odd breed, and in this space I would like to pay tribute to some of my fellow volunteers at Kibbutz Ketorah. The title refers to two of the terms used to describe such weird specimens as were found on Ketorah. I already knew how strange my fellow Noamnics were and so I will not describe them here, they are a special breed of abnormal. As I have already said we came down on a bus with six girls from a group called Israel Journey. Now they were weird, especially on first appearances, but they were nothing compared to who was already there.

There were about thirty kibbutz volunters although the numbers were constantly changing as people came and went. We arrived on the same day as the Garin, a group of boys from Noam Israel who went into the army together and framed their service spending time together on Kibbutz. On the whole they were a group of really lovely guys and we frequently hung out with them, especially since outside one of their rooms there was a really nice canopies and with sofas. On the whole they all spoke excellent English, the one exception was Uri, a character in his native language, and this was magnified as he nobly tried to navigate the confusing paths of English, at the end of Passover he declared 'lets go eat flavor', as opposed to flour. He stood out as the only slightly member of the group, well off the dance floor anyway. On the dance floor they performed some sort of drunken Capoeira, the Brazillian martial art dance, and on one occasion I was once payed the flattering compliment of dancing as weirdly as the Garin.

Ed and Emma were two members of Netzer who had dropped off the program because they loved Kibbutz life so much and wanted to stay. I knew Edd well as he was on the Machon, I knew who Emma was but I never really got to know her before Kibbutz as she was on the Netzer alternative to Machon called Etgar, and our paths never really crossed. There was a general rule with Edd, that from when he woke up to when he finished work he was a perfectly normal human being (despite his height of 6'9) who worked in the kitchen. After work was a different story, he would tend to disappear into his room and wouldn't be seen until around eleven. Lets just say that after this time period normal conversation with him wasn't exactly possible. All his stories he told usually ended with the phrase 'I dont remember it that well because I was so fucked'. My first impressions of Emma were not particularly good, although they were quickly eradicated as soon as I got to know her. Her vice was alcohol and she drank a lot of it, occasionally I tried to drink with her and I was gone within about five minutes, (I because a bit of a light weight in Israel, I blame the heat).

Also on the Kibbutz were a group of four post-grad American girls, who on first look seemed quite normal and indeed they were. The one exception would probably be Sheri who came to work in the dining room for a week. I didn't think you could get more American until Matt came. Matt just out of his first year of college, struck us as being the world's biggest Herman, he also joined us in the dining room and he was actually one of the nicest volunteers, and he quickly fell into kibbutz life, particularly dancing, and he frequently told me how it was the total opposite to college. He and Sheri would frequently conversations in the dining room and us Brits would look at them thinking what on earth are they talking about.

Other volunteers included Ron, a gym manager from California who arrived around the same time as us. He spent the entire time he was there (a week, he was fired because he didn't work) telling us about how America was taking over the world. Ben, another Yank was far more normal apart from when he would sit outside and play his guitar and sing on the spot lyrics, which could only be inspired by serious drug use, which I am pretty sure they were. Run (said with heavy Israeli accent) was just out the army and he was rather normal, except when he greeted you he would hit you in a friendly manner on the chest, and it hurt. David from New York used to manage Fridays, and was probably the coolest person on Kibbutz (not hard) and I managed to con him into taking over the pool for me. Marissa from Ottawa walked walked and danced in a manner which wouldn't seem foreign to a zombie. Volunteers don't usually stay for more than a few months but David from Montreal had arrived in November and doesn't look like he was ever going to go.

There are four volunteers who I think deserve slightly more space they are JD, Teague, Arielle and Will. They have all now left Ketora JD, Teague and Will all left within about three days of each other about a week after I left. Arielle left after about my third week. They had all come at the end of last year, or the beginning of this year.

I spent my first few days of work with Teague painting houses. During this time he asked my name about three times a day, after a while he just called me English kid. Teague had spent time on Ketora before, he had met a girl and they moved to Eilat together, when they broke up he moved back. He came from a very well-off family from Seattle but he had turned his back on the lifestyle for a more calm life. He was psychotic, usually stoned and a real character. I'm not really sure I can describe him properly as I never really got to know him that well, although on my second or third day of Kibbutz, Nick and I were chatting to him and he told us of his two year plan to go to India with Will and sort of stumble back home, during this whole conversation he was itching his bulls, and only changed his hand position to show us his new jacket.

The average age of a kibbutz volunteers is somewhere between 18-24 JD was 38. The first thing that you would notice about JD was his size. He was big, not fat, but very tall and very built. I believe at some points during his life he was a marine as well as a bouncer. I think he was also a nutrionist, accountant and a lot of other stuff besides, however, I was never really sure as his accent was utterly impenetrable, and I spent my first few weeks trying to work out where on earth he came from. He told me he was born in Arkansas, USA, raised in South Africa somewhere in the country side, his father was Scottish and his mother was Dutch (or it could be the other way around). When I talked about him I described him as the font of all knowledge as there was no subject upon which he did not consider himself a world expert. In the beginning it was a bit weird having this old man hanging around with us, but after a wall we got used to it. I was very happy to learn that he decided not to leave at the beginning of May when he had originally planned but to extend his time to after I left, I could not imagine Kibbutz without him, and his advice, stories and death threats, of which there were many.

What I am about to tell you of Arielle is mainly of what I have heard from others. She left pretty early on of my time of Kibbutz and I tried to avoid her as much as possible. For two reasons she was a) annoying and b) grotesque. She was a nineteen year old from the states, and her stories are actually legendary, if a survey was done of most talked about subjects on Kibbutz she would occupy pole position. She was really rather, well fat. She was always first into meals, and used to come back for thirds when we were closing up. She was also a compulsive liar at one stage she was a virgin whose boyfriend had left her pregnant before committing suicide. I cant go into the stories of her adventures on kibbutz there are just too many of them, and I am only a second hand source. Suffice to know that stories about her caused much laughter.

Will was famous, as was his story. He had been travelling to India with his female friend, their journey included a stop over in Israel. During the stop over she declared her undying love for him, he was however unable to return it. So in the spirit calm collected rational thinking she tore up his passport and tickets and ran off. Not wanting to go home, but without a passport he was unable to leave Israel. He called a friend in England, and his friend told him about Kibbutz, and so he found himself on Ketora. Although his passport came about three months later he stayed for six months. Will was from Mill Hill, he was not Jewish. He frequently had to reassure himself of this by shouting "I'M NOT A JEW" at random points during the day or night. But he was scared he was becoming a nice Jewish boy, and was even about to let Teague circumcise him (Teague had gone to get a knife) when he had second thoughts saying that he had become attached to his foreskin. Working with the electrician he sort of became the Kibbutz bitch and everyone knew and loved him. Will also comes with his own hilarious stories, including waking up my former roommate Danny with a machete, and the time he flew to Australia and was so scared of not being able to smoke for twenty-four hours, he put fifteen patches on himself and fainted fifteen minutes into the flight. When I last spoke to him he said he was either going to go and on an oil rig or go crab fishing in Alaska.

I'm sure there are people I have forgotten, but I can not talk about everyone. Everyone was at least slightly quirky, but those mentioned really stick out in my mind. Nick has gone back to volunteer on kibbutz for a few weeks and he says its just not the same, everyone is just too normal.

Celebrations

The ever changing nature of time is a very noticeable thing on kibbutz. Matt a Yank who works in the dining room with me, says that when he knows he is going to finish at three he is far happier and time goes much faster then when he is finishing at four. For me time goes a lot faster when I am cleaning the toilets and it practically grinds to a halt when I am on the machine (a big industrial dishwasher from which all sorts of items must be removed and placed in the proper position.) On Kibbutz we measure time by when we drink, although drinking is not limited to any particular day there are certain nights when alcohol consumption is more common than others, these are generally pub nights. Pub is usually Thursday night and Saturday night on Ketura and Friday night somewhere else, as we work a six day week this time frame is optimistically seen as the weekend.

So last week the weekend came early. Pub night befell on Wednesday and I dont think many people were aware of the change and so it was pretty empty but we still managed to knock back a few. The reason why pub was on Wednesday was because on Thursday there was a wedding. A wedding is understandably a big thing on kibbutz. I had never seen the bride and groom around before but apparently the bride was a child of the kibbutz, and the groom had met her while he was on the garin, oddly enough staying in our appartment, this explained why on the dedication presentation they had to the happy couple there was a picture of our room. As wedding preparations were going on around us the dining room were trying to do their job as quickly as possible without being burdened with any unwanted tasks.

The entire kibbutz was invited to the wedding which was scheduled to arrive around five. So us British volunteers donned smart casual attire and made our way to the chuppa (canopy where the wedding takes place). We were unsurprsingly overdressed, some people were very smart they were either getting married, or were guests of those getting married. Most of the kibbutznics had turned up in their workclothes, this was a typical Israeli wedding. Of course the service didnt actually start at five, but no-one really minded as there was nice music and free Sangria to keep everyone entertained. The wedding was a lovely affair, they usually are. Dinner for all non-guests was served outside but the food was great and the free wine kept flowing. For desert there was a giant cake bar which kept me occupied for some time. After dinner there was a play but as it was in Hebrew I didnt bother with it. But from then until the small hours in the morning there was a big disco with a free bar.

The next day we had to wake up at six, and spent the first few hours at work in a zombie like state. It took three coffees to wake me up, and so I went from utterly exhausted to somewhat hyper which culminated in me throwing milk all over Annabel and then rolling on the floor in hysterics for five minutes. After work I tried to go to sleep, which I failed to manage, and then I tried to go to sleep after dinner but I failed at that as well.

Unfortunately my attempts at sleep were abruptly finished at midnight when a chorus of happy birthday rang out across the appartment. That birthday was mine. All who know me know that I am not the worlds biggest fans of birthdays, especially when they are my own, so I try to keep it relatively low key. I failed. I was nagged out of bed and into some clothes and then down to the mini-bus where we took a cab to Kibbutz Grofit, for the pub night. On arrival I was offered drinks by several of my friends, and I was managing to keep relatively sober until Oli from Hanoar forced me to down two double Jaggermeister shots (a sort of liquorice drink) and the next thing I remember was waking up with a splitting headache. This continued untill about Saturday lunch time when I found Annabel's Ibuprofen. The rest of Satursday was spent by the pool until the evening. In the evening I spent most of my time writing my blog but as I tried to leave the room Richard shouted at me to get back inside. Admittedly my suspiscions had been aroused for some time but this completely gave away, nevertheless I went back inside and feigned ignorance.

Finally I was lead outside where I was greeted by a large group of people gathered around looking rather civilised. It had turned out this was a smores party (a smore is an American sandwich which invovles biscuits, chocolate and marshmallows) and everyone was sitting around eating smores and drinking punch. What was really lovely was that they had taken a bedsheet and everyone written birthday wishes on it. Eventually I went to sleep rather early, but it had been one of the most enjoyable birthdays in a long time.

P.S. This post had been written along time ago, but it got deleted when it was meant to be published, so this is a watered down and belated version. For that I apologise. I'm not sure when I will next be able to write and it may not be until I get back home.

A weekend away

Last weekend had always had a big mark on the calendar as the one weekend where I was always going to get away from the Kibbutz. This was down to a triple birthday occuring of the weekend as over a space of two days Richard, Ruthie and Sara (from AJ6) all had their birthdays. The general plan had always been to try and get off work early on Friday and go up to Tel Aviv until Saturday night, an incredibly short space of time. However, as good fortune would have it we were to have more of a break than we thought. For on Thursday there was to be a MASA event and we were all being sent up to Jerusalem for the day.

If you cast you minds back to October time, I mentioned being sent to a MASA event and this one was not very different. MASA was a fund established by Ariel Sharon to subsidies and support foreigners in Israel on long term programs, because of this MASA is a very good and worthwhile organisation (Iwould say that being one of the people it benefits), its events however are a total and utter waste of time. They must spend thousands of dollars on these events and the money in the opinion of everyone there is totally wasted. It would be far better spent on providing more financial support to those who need it. Before the actual event there was entertainment from moving statues, a circus etc. and a chance to see friends from other movements.

I was very surprised to see an old friend there, Ben is at Yeshiva in Jerusalem and I have seen him very few times throughout the year, the last time was Pesach and as he had not been at the previous MASA event I had not expected to see him there. He told me that he was here with his Yeshiva but if there was anything that they found against Orthodox Religious ruling the head of their Yeshiva would have everyone leave. When asked what this included he said mixed dancing and women singing, I told him he might as well leave now.

The event itself was to take place in the Sultan's pool an open air theatre in a valley outside the walls of Jerusalem. Inevitably it took ages to start the reason for this was we were waiting for the main speaker to arrive. The main speaker just so happened to be Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert. He was greeted with polite applause (the crowd was never exactly enthusiastic) and some booing, but then what do you expect for someone who has a 0% popularity rating. The show consisted of several speakers including the head of the Jewish Agency (this was I think the third time I had heard him speak), the mayor of Jerusalem and Olmert. Olmert spoke in very good English cracked a few jokes (some were almost funny) and told everyone to move to Israel. Other than the speeches there were several musical acts which included rather unsurprisingly mixed dancing and women singing, Ben left (of his own accord most people from his Yeshiva stayed) but then so did many other people. To be honest good taste was a better excuse to leave and I was seriously considering leaving myself. The event finished (thank God) with a fireworks display.

After the event we wandered up to Zion Square in the centre of Jerusalem an assigned meeting place where we were meant to meet lots of other people before we were to all go out drinking together. However, more important things were afoot as blocking up Jaffa Street a main road that runs along side Zion Square was a mass student demonstration. The Israeli student body has been on strike for about six weeks now, because of increases in tuition fees, and so this protest was part of the general disruption caused. It seemed relatively peaceful, even though an entire road was blocked, and then the police and army arrived. They seemed cheerful until they drew ranks and went right into the heart of the protesets. I was among the throngs of spectators on the sidelines, baying for blood in the collisions between the authorities and the people. A few people were dragged out and some were even carried out and although fists were thrown the violence never really escalated. With that excitment over we wondered down to a bar named Sol where we had a few drinks, and then moved on to a club called Underground. Whilst it has a reputation for being one of the seediest clubs in Israel it is one of the favourite haunts of many people in our group. I left there at about three and I went with Richard in a sheroot to Tel Aviv, as we had decided to stay in the MDA flat.

I had assumed that I would be sleeping on the floor, however I was very happy to see that Nir's bed was vacant, and although I felt very bad about sleeping there without his permission I assumed he wouldn't mind and I quickly fell asleep. Nir did arrive at about 7:30 but he left immeadiatley and happily didnt seemed to mind seeing me in his bed. I woke around 11:30 and then did nothing for a couple of hours even though I was meant to be at Reg's flat in Jaffa at about 1. Finally Richard, Yoav and I decided to leave and we were made even later by the bus which of course took ages to come back. Lunch was very pleasant and afterwards I had a relaxing walk back with Yoav. This included going through Nachlamat Binyamin a lovely market very much the Covent Garden of Tel Aviv. Back at the flat we watched High School Musical "Oh the pain the pain, why do I do these things to myself", and then did nothing for a few hours until dinner.

Finally a group of us went out for a burger before meeting lots of others in a bar down the road. Here we stayed for many hours drinking, talking and catching up. Eventually we decided to move on, unfortuneatly on Friday nights most bars and clubs have a habit of being over 25, and so we spent much of the time wandering aimlessly around Tel Aviv in the small hours of the morning looking for something to do, thus it was just like any other night in Tel Aviv. Finally around three I went back with Richard to the Jaffa Hostel (rated 15th in the Best Budget Places to stay in the world by the Independent). The Hostel is a lovely quaint place to stay, and even though I was on a very shaky and rather uncomfortable top bunk I still had a very nice nights sleep. I woke the next morning and after visiting the famous Jaffa bakery I walked to the old port, a sight I had not visited since Tour, and then I walked leisurely back to the appartment.

After lunch, a bagel one of the few I have had in Israel, I went with a group of about 7 or 8 to see Spiderman 3, dont bother. After the movie I had a quick dinner with Annabel and Richard and then it was time to say goodbye to everyone as we had to catch 8 o'clock bus back. The bus journey was uneventful excpet for the fact that I almost got left behind at a stop as I was on the loo, and everyone had dozed off and so had failed to notice that I was not there. I sprinted out just as the bus was leaving, and sat down rather disgruntled.

Petra

Something that had always been on my to-do list since I had come to Israel, was to visit the Ancient City of Petra. However, due to the fact that it is Jordan and thus not in Israel, I had never really expected to be able to do it. Even though Israel and Jordan are on friendly terms and it is with ease that one may cross the border between the two crossings, I thought that for someone who was on an organised program in Israel there would be several difficulties. I never envisaged the relative ease of signing off the program, and thus being allowed to leave the country for a day. All that was needed was for my parents to fax written permission saying I was allowed to be signed off the program for today, and that was it. A surprisingly total lack of annoying beauracracy. All that was left was for us to book a tour with a reputable tour company and we were out of the country.

And so on Saturday 5th May I went down to the entrance of the kibbutz at 7am where I waited for the taxi that had been ordered the previous day, and I waited and waited and waited. Waiting with me were Annabel, Richard and Rachel a fellow volunteer from the Kibbutz. The taxi finally arrived at 7:30, given that we were meant to be at the border at 7:45 and the border was about half an hour away we were all rather peeved. Our driver spent the journey telling us in all the years he had been collecting people from the Kibbutz he had never once been late. I wasn't sure if this was boasting or an attempt to annoy us even further.

We arrived at the border at eight, where we were much to my relief greeted by our tour guirde, who told us that that the rest of the group was waiting for us having completed their stint at passport control. One long line and cancelled visa later, we joined the group but not before one woman on our group came to find us and tell us just how long she had been waiting for. And so to the border crossing. As we walked the no-mans land, with the Thankyou for Visiting Israel sign behind us and the Welcome to Jordan sign ahead of us, Richard and Annabel discussed what the insurance company would say if something happened to us there, whilst I tried to guess how many sniper rifles were trained on me at that precise moment in time.

The Jordanian guards welcomed us with big smiley grins and couldnt have seemed happier to have us visit their country, and it was such a pleasant contrast us from the sour faced Israeli guard who saw us off at the other side. On the Jordanian side we met with the tour compay representative on that side, who spent a considerable time sorting out visas. Once that was done it was onto the tour bus and off we went. We found ourselves in a group of fifteen, the others were from Russia, America and Israel. The tour was however conducted in English as the Jordanian Tour Guide spoke fluent English but probably not much of anything else. His name was Abdul and he told us on the journey to Petra, about Jordanian life, politics. etc.

After a two hour journey we arrived at the entrance to Petra. Petra was a city built by the Nabattians in the 2nd-1st centrury BC, the exact origins of the city are unclear, although it is known that it was first built as a city of tombs, and was thus a holy place. The Nabattians who were pagans, would bring their dead to rest there. It was later captured by the Romans who saw it as one of the most beautiful places in their empire and they continued the expansion and building of the city there. Following the fall of the Roman Empire the city was essentially lost, known about only by the local Bedouin population. It was rediscovered and revealled to the rest of the world by a Swiss explorer called Johann Ludwig Burckhardt. In more recent history it was used as the hiding place for the holy grail in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

At the entrance to the site there is a visitiors center where tickets can be purchased and many stalls selling odds and ends. These included the Indiana Jones which quite clearly was trying to cash in on the film, and the tottally out of place Titanic Coffee Shop. Finally we made our way towards the city, which remains hidden from view for a long time as it is hidden between two huge cliffs. We started our journey walking down towards the Siq (shaft), the Siq is a narrow passage between the two mountains and it is the road that leads into Petra. Towards the end of the Siq our guide told us to look back the way we had come to see if we could see an animal in the rock, he told us that if we stepped back we could see it clearer, and as the group was getting more and confused as no-one could see anything he told us to turn around, and lo and behold through a crack in the Siq we could see the large red collonades of the Khazneh.

We walked towards it in awe, and as we emerged out of the Siq the huge red building carved out into the rock towered above us, taking our collective breath away. When you see pictures of Petra that is the building you see. Khazneh means treasury, but this is the name given to it by the local Bedouins who believed that that was where the treasure was kept. Historically however, this building was never the treasury but a temple. After we had spent tiime wondering around and taking photos our guide told us all about it, and then we moved on towards the rest of the city.

The city is littered with tombs, and there are many other interesting structures some built by the Nabbatians and others by the Romans. At one stage took us off the beaten track and after a short climb he revealed to us the ampitheatre from above, a wondeful way of viewing it. At one stage our guide asked if anyone needed the toilet, and that if we did to take our cameras with us as it is the most beautiful toilet in the world. Fearing the recreation of a moment from Trainspotting I held my breath as I went in search for it. Luckily our guide was being deadly serious as the toilet was carved into the rock, and I spent five minutes trying to take a photo of a cubicle and the rock at the sametime.

The tour lasted two hours during which we were taken through the main city of Petra. This was only the main attraction and unfortuneatly our tour was only a day and we would not be able to visit any of the other sites, usually only reachable after long arduous hikes. The tour ended at the other end of the city where we had lunch and we were given a couple of hours to wander back in our own time.

The way was littered with stalls with people selling bric-a-brac usually in an English accent not too far removed from cockney. There were also people offering donkey and camel rides up and and down the track. We were all very amused by one man who upon a small horse was offering a 'taxi, ferrari, air-conditioning' although ot wasnt as funny the second and third time. What wasnt so nice to see was parents hiding in the bushes as they sent their children to sell rocks taken from the city. Also on the way back I went into the Khazeh again where I listened to the the Indiana Jones theme music, sad I know but still utterly neccessary.

I think I slept through most of the drive back, at the end of the drive we had a detour into Aquaba which in my opinion is a far nicer city than Eilat. We experienced no problems leaving Jordan but on the way into Israel I was held up twice once at security and once at passport control, and despite reassuring remarks but Israel customs officials I was wandering what the hell was so suspicious about me. Unfortuneatly we missed our groups bus back into Jerusalem, and so the man from the tour company gave us a lift back to Eilat in his open air jeep. All in all it was an amazing experience and I was delighted I did it.

Kibbutz Misc

There is one big problem about kibbutz life, its makes you unfathomably lazy. Oh dont get me wrong I know I was lazy before hand but life on Kibbutz just takes the biscuit. Daily schedule would go something like this, wake up, go to work, break for breakfast and then later on lunch, finish work, and then either sunbathe or enjoy air-conditioning depending on your temperament (I am clearly one of those who prefers the latter), have dinner, chill out (or go to pub from Thursday-Saturday) sleep. You work hard at work but vegetate the rest of the time. I think many volunteers come to kibbutz with big ideas of what they want to acheive but on the whole I imagine towards the end of their week these have probably been thrown out the window. A typical thought process might go something like this 'I think maybe we should perhaps think about starting to doing something, but maybe not.' This is why I have been rather poor at updating this blog over the past few weeks, because I know I should but to be honest I just cant be bothered. Anyway I finally realised that I have so much to catch up on that I really should, and I know by loving and devoted readers cant wait to hear about my adventures, or total lack of them.

So I ended last time saying that I had just moved into my new job in the dining room, and there for a change I was to remain. The dining room to me had two carrots, it was indoors, and sociable. Unfortuneatly the hours sucked and it doesnt matter how quickly you finish everything you have to do you still have to come back to work during and after lunch. So the earliest one might hope to finish in the dining room is about 2:30. I joined the dining room team in a time of turmoil, the previous boss had just quit and a new boss had come in introduced longer hours, more jobs and has yet to introduce himself to us (about two weeks on). And so into this vacuum Edan stepped in. Edan is a member of the Noam Garin, a group of boys who had spent their army service together and who had started and were now finishing their time on Kibbutz. As he had thus worked on the Kibbutz before Edan saw himself as a the perfect person to take command, unfortunately no-one was quite sure if this was the case, and Edan wasnt quite sure what being boss meant, and so many arguements, meetings, bitchings ensued. I had always thought before I came to the kitchen that he was a lovely guy, he was just the sort of person that turns from lovely guy socially to a total meglomaniac in the work place.

Anyway working in the dining room involves amongst other things; cleaning tables, cleaning floors, cleaning bathrooms, taking things off a big industrial conveyor belt washing machine, and cleaning up and koshering after all meals (except dinner). Of course when we think we have finished and we are about to go for our break or leave for the day, Edan finds more things to do. To be honest I rather enjoy working in the dining room, yes the hours suck, but I wouldnt do anything else for the rest of the day so it doesnt really matter. The work is varied and not too hard and best of all there is air conditioning so it is actually bearable to work. I should state that it is currently around 35 degrees and absolutely stiffling. The only time the dining room really sucks in on Fridays as we have to prepare for shabbat, so we have to come in at six and dont tend to leave till about four of five at the earliest. This was particularlay annoying last weekend as the Noam group had come down to visit.

The reason for this was our last shabbat byachad, and this time it was really was a special occassion as we had not been together as a group for several weeks. People started to come down on Thursday night in time for the pub, which was fun as usual. Benefits of the rest of the group being down here, apart of course form seeing them which was a sheer joy in itself and we would not request any other benefits (just covering my back in case any of them are reading this), was that they were staying in the guest house and this meant that as they had free beds we could go and sleep in their rooms with comfortable beds, and then have the breakfast specially reserved for the guest house in the morning. Richard, Nick and Annabel seized the chance of comfort, I unsurprisingly could not be bothered to move, my excuse being that if I switch beds my back will hurt again, however I did relish the chance of a decent breakfast.

On Friday morning we had a talk on a five day hike we are having after the options period finishes, in the afternoon however I had to work to help set up for shabbat. I was working till around 5:30 which meant that our pre-shabbat program had started before I arrived showered yet shattered to join the group. We had a kabbalat service interspersed with demonstrations by everyone of what they had learnt during their time on options. The MDA people illustrated how to put on a bandaged, the Marva people showed us a very tough excercise routine which Nick and I then copied, and us Kibbutznics showed everyone how to dance around like a Kibbutznic, ie. in a way that would probably get you chucked out of most London clubs.

After the service we went to have dinner, and following this we ran an onegg, of which the central part was a game I lead in which groups had to reenact what they thought other groups had been getting up to over the last couple of weeks. This was made somewhat harder by me shouting different styles in which they had to show this such as: BBC News at 10, an episode of Eastenders, Film Noir and many more. Then each group showed what they had actually been up to over the last few weeks, and for some reasons I was convinced to do my Bohemiam Rhapsody dance again, sober.

The next day is usually a lie-in day on Kibbutz, however we rather inevitably had to get up for a morning service followed by a program. After lunch we had a break in which I of course did nothing, and then another program of a reflective nature. After dinner the Marva group ran a program in which they attempted to show us what life in a mock army program is like. They thus shouted at us a lot and made us do press ups. Given the order to march sensible and in silence, it became an excuse to join the Ministry of Silly Walks, thus causing us to stop every five seconds as flustered Marvanics shouted at us, whilst we like little childre utterly failed to control our hysterics. Unfortuneatly that was the last program of the shabbaton and by Sunday lunchtime everyone was gone. It was so nice to see everyone again and it was really amazing to be back together as a group, and it made me realise just how much I had missed them all.

One final thing to report, last night I went down to a beach just outside Eilat, for a drink, concert and football match. Bascially somone had the great idea of putting a big name band at the same time as a big football match, which would be shown on two big screens, and in the process sell a lot of beer. The bands name was Machina, I had only ever heard of them in context of this gig but apparently they were pretty big, however, as the ticket only cost 40 shekels (£5) I thought why not, and I was pleasantly surprised by how good they were. The game was Manchester United versus AC Milan second leg, and a United fan I was rather upset by the result.

I intend to right again soon as I have another big day to report on,

Off to work

I mentioned in the post before last that I had put myself down for the role of pool cleaner, a position which I duly received. And so on Sunday morning (this is two weeks ago, I know I am rather behind) I went down to the pool at six in the morning, where, I had been told, I would learn to clean the pool. I spent the following hour and a half sitting outside the pool and debating whether to treat myself to breakfast or not. Eventually as I am finally about to decide to go have breakfast someone comes to let me into the pool, and acts very surprised that a) I came at six and b) I haven't eaten. My boss's name was Susie and she proceeded to show me how to clean the pool. This process was by use of a big under water vacuum cleaner, powered by some sort of domed object, which doesn't entirely look unlike a Dalek.

The Ketora swimming pool is rather large, and so the whole cleaning process takes 2-3 hours, it should probably take less but I was slightly retarded at it. There had been a sandstorm the previous night which in no way made my life any easier, especially as I had to go over the same bit a number of times to clean it completely. My other responsibilities around the pool included general tidying up around the pool, clearig the drains and sweeping the paths. I also had to clean the toilets, admittedly not very thoroughly as all I did was put soap and water in a bucket and throw it over as much as possible, and then clear all the water out.

The next day I was to work alone and so Susie gave me a pool to the swimming pool, essentially making me my own boss. Being ones own boss means having to switch on the Dalek, which means a long and ardouos process where getting rather wet is unavoidable, I started wearing swimming trunks pretty quickly. As the week progressed a number of things became apparent to me 1) That I wasnt very good at my job 2)Its just too damn not to work outside 3) My mp3 player is no substitute for human contact, and so I decided to find someone who wanted to switch with me.

Luckily fate was on my side as Aliza (volunteer supervisor) approached Nick and I on the Wednesday and told us that for the next week we would be cleaning pipes in the Algetech. The Algetech is where the kibbutz Algae grows. I should state that not all kibbutzim grow Algae its just this one as its main industry is exporting Algae which is used in several products including salmon (to give it its colour). We arrived there bright and early on Thursday where our new boss Benny gave us a bucket, hose, detergent and green scrubbing things which for some reason our called scotch's and told us to clean all the refuse pipes in the complex. The refuse pipes are found under all the pipes where the algae grows, and the pipes irrigate into the pipes we were cleaning. This meant getting out all the mud and sand and anything that might decide to visit with just the tools we were given.

And so Nick and I spent the following week with our hands in these pipes scrubbing them and cleaning them and getting ourselves rather wet. Actually Nick usually had the hose and I usually my hand in the pipes, which meant back pains (the pipes tended to be around knee height) and very dry hands. Some days it was rather fun, for instance we timed ourselves on a very short series of pipes with our record being about 3:20 a pipe. Other days it was not quite so fun particularly as we were next to the 'refek (cows) and one day a rather strong was blowing in our direction bringing with it the unforgettable stench of those wretched creatures. Finally on the Tuesday we go find our boss to report that we had finished all the pipes, he congragulates us and then says 'You know there was a sandstorm last night, all the pipes are now dirty, so they all need to be cleaned again.' Hoping for some variation we were livid. Thus over the next couple of days Nick and I decided to limit ourselves to the short and easy pipes and refused to do the huge ones again. Unfortuneatly we did the easy pipes far too quickly and so resorted to many long breaks, luckily being surrounded by pipes no-one could really see what we were /were not doing. Nevertheless on our final day when we went to say goodbye to our boss, he thanked us for doing a great job, and said he would tell Aliza how good we were.

On Friday it was back to the pool for my final day of work, as during the week I had found someone to swap with, which means I shall probably spend the rest of my time on kibbutz working in the dining room, and I will tell you all about that when I know more.