Most of my escapades and gripes take place inside the city limits of Beit She'an. It's taken time to feel confident enough to venture on my own either for exercise or to feed my own curiosity, to see what's around me in the Valley of the Springs area.
Whenever I go out on runs or walks that take me beyond the bounds of the city, there's a clear change in the infrastructure, landscape and atmosphere. You can tell you've left the bounds of Beit She'an when the deluge of trash strewn haphazardly on the ground ends. When I'm on foot (which I often am) I can easily observe the shift to wide open stretches of farm land; the winter weather brings out lush greens, health and vitality in the earth. The bucolic countryside can at times almost resemble the stereotypical Tuscan countryside with neatly manicured rows of budding green extending out as far as the eye can see. Bike and walking paths meander around the fields and if it's sunny and pleasant, people might be out walking their dogs or running. It's really quite beautiful to behold. It's so sad to me that the city where I reside has such a detrimental and abusive relationship with the environment around them. But the kibbutzim have a deep-seated respect and connection to the land and it clearly means something significant to live where they are and harvest their crops.
Since arriving in Beit She'an I've been looking for a volunteer project of something that might align with my personal interests. More and more those personal interests have turned to health, wellness and nutrition - mostly because they were aspects of my personality and western world that I held in high regard, but I've been unable to find much of a respect for this lifestyle living whilst in Beit She'an.
My coordinator and others with fancy titles who introduced themselves to the ITF group and feigned excitement for the different possibilities of our presence, floated ideas by me of walking groups or exercise classes at the JCC as something for me to pursue. Neither of these ideas were really my cup of tea, but in the spirit of trying new things and being open to new experiences, I said that I would love to give those options a try. However, it made little difference in the end, since there was no follow-up and sometimes they were never mentioned again.
It seemed that my existence in Beit She'an was doomed to be limited to the unrewarding and repetitive task of days spent in a drab classroom, or feeling like a fish out of water in a place that I found difficult to feel at ease and accepted.
One day, I was in my coordinator's office - I believe I was making alphabet workbooks for my fourth grade group who are at a learning the ABCs level. This is rather ironic, since I was making these packets with renewed vigor, at the suggestion of Yael, the English teacher who was supposed to be on sabbatical, but was brought in for five hours a week to try to balance out the damage being done by the English teacher, who is actually a substitute for Yael and my assigned "host" teacher. The fate of those worksheets that I hopefully assembled that day was to lie in a pile on the floor of my room. They were never used since there hasn't been much opportunity where I have a day structured enough, or when I'm not trying to play catch up on the skipped around style of teaching that they're enduring. Eventually, I showed the packets to the substitute English teacher when she was complaining to me about some of her issues with the book that she herself had chosen to order. She liked the sheets and ran off to make copies of them and probably used them in class later that day, because it's unlikely she had a lesson plan. So that's how I came to provide materials for my host teacher.
Back to the office, way before all that with the worksheets came to fruition, the coordinator mentioned to me that he thought he remembered that there was a food cooperative on a neighboring kibbutz that might be worth my checking out. From him, I found out which kibbutz and the times the cooperative operated, so I resolved that coming Thursday to go and see for myself.
In the meantime, another fellow I live with, Ian, said he was interested in checking out the kibbutz cooperative with me. He was motivated, not by an interest in the food, but out of curiosity of the kibbutz community. He had preciously expressed a desire to explore the kibbutzim life around us, but been told that he was not possible for us to venture there. In our own ways, both of us were buckling under the crush of living in Beit She'an at the far and forgotten reaches of Israel and struggle with the strain of trying to fit into such a narrow-minded society. But this glimmer of an idea of a cooperative market offered a sliver of hope.
Thursday rolled around and we caught our bus. We arrived at the kibbutz, which as a rule, are gated, but they typically remain open during day time hours so you can just stroll in. The two of us asked for directions to the "fresh food market" and eventually, between phone calls and mangled English and Hebrew exchanges found ourselves in the most heavenly one room market and pantry.
Kibbutz Bet Alfa's cooperative market is by no mean glamorous, although to me, it is a salvation. It's a square shaped room, divided into sections for dry goods, like avocado oil, gluten free pizza crust, cacao, etc. Then there's a cooler filled with locally provided salad mixes, vegan cheeses and even tofu made by a German family that lives on a nearby mountainside [because when you're German and make tofu, where else would you live?!]. The other two walls are devoted to organic greens picked just hours before by Eli, a local farmer; plus fresh fruits and vegetables from farms around the area.
My mouth dropped. I think I almost cried, or was at least overwhelmed by emotion for finally making my way to this gold mine! I didn't know that food and thinking along the line of local cooperative existed where I was! I've been plagued by bloating and stomach aches from the richness and quantity of food; the tendency of Israeli eating is essentially to make things as processed and as sugary as possible and then give you a lot of it. I've been missing quinoa, kale and smoothies, as well as the pursuit of making these things!...I'm not saying that the entire world needs to follow my suit and eat this way, but it's what I enjoy and like to pursue. It's made me feel so sad and lonely finding that no one else around me shared my interests.
The locals involved with the running of the cooperative were almost as happy as I was to have to have two volunteers from Beit She'an have wandered into their midst! Idit, the woman running the cooperative and arranging the member volunteer schedule, was so happy to have us and got our contact information so we could begin to volunteer with them right away. Idit even arranged for us to get a ride home to Beit She'an with one of the members; the guy and his crying baby only could get us around 3km outside of Beit She'an, so we had to walk the rest of the way, but it barely felt like our feet touched the ground as we walked home underneath a starry sky to the sound of jackals howling.
Idit turned out to be a kibbutz fairy godmother to me. After my first week volunteering in the co-op, I messaged her and asked if she knew of any other people in the area who were involved in eating organic, local and leading a healthy lifestyle. She sent me back a list of places with the associated numbers to call up.
If you've ever had a job where you need to cold call, take the anxiety and awkwardness of that and multiply it by 1,000 to understand what calling a random number in Israel and not knowing if the person who answers the phone will speak English and be able to understand you. Amazingly, Hila, the first number that I called roughly understood what I was saying to her, or at least was intrigued enough to invite me to visit her on Kibbutz Neve Eitan the next day and check out the institute that she assisted a man named Uri Mayer-Chissick in operating.
So that's how I came to literally show up on the doorstep of the kibbutz Neve Eitan, and be welcomed with open arms to Mekomi.
Mekomi, which means local in Hebrew, is part deli - providing the area with teas, almond milk, cashew cheese and a host of other tasty options; teaching institute - where students from across Israel can come to learn how to eat healthier, lead a lifestyle grounded on concepts from ancient medicine and nutrition and be educated on an environmentally sustainable lifestyle; and go on foraging tours - where participants learn history of the edible plants around then make a tasty meal with them.
That day when I spontaneously showed up at the doorstep, Hila, Tami and Yael were just about to sit down for lunch, so I had excellent timing! They served up a fresh herb salad topped with homemade, vegan yogurt dressing, sweet potatoes with baked garlic cloves and beet, zucchini and frehki [an ancient grain from the Levant] stew. It was delicious and my stomach was happy, although my mind however was being blown by all the research and activities the three women, Uri and the institute were involved in.
We swapped stories over the meal; I couldn't believe that all this was at my fingertips, just waiting for me to find it! It did take a lot of my own legwork, courage to really get out there and perseverance.
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| Noga in the wild |
Within two days of finding Mekomi, Tami had arranged for me to go on a foraging tour with Uri that Friday. Bright and early Friday morning, Uri picked me up in a white van playing Israeli music from the 80s that was a favorite of his young daughter Noga. We drove to a park near Megiddo; the morning was overcast, a little wet and the park was a deep, dynamic green. We parked the van on a hillside and walked over the park entrance where around 10 or so Israelis arrived in various levels of outdoor gear for Uri's foraging tour. In truth, I was surprised by this turn out, I didn't know that many people were interested in these pursuits, plus they turned out to be incredibly good natured group and well versed themselves on plant-lore. Uri lectured in Hebrew, but his father who had come along for to help, was from England originally so he translated so I could understand . Noga ran along with the tour in bare feet, more than adept herself in the lush wilderness, where she seems to be at home climbing ancient olive trees, and eating fresh, wild asparagus and flowers she picked.
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| Foraged greenery |
Over the next few hours, I lost myself in a complete immersion of all things green and leafy in the vicinity. I poked under rocks, tasted leaves and buds and gained a new found respect for the land I'm living in.
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| A work of art and tastes |
At the end of the foraging lecture, the group was turned loose to collect our own plants. Ever the stalwart group, these Israelis had come equipped with their own foraging tools, thermoses of tea and even a bottle of wine. Uri, his father and Noga turned their attention to building a fire and beginning to chop up vegetables, and make preparations for a meal centered around the foraged materials. Vegetables were chopped, green leaves and herbs were minced and a wholewheat pita dough found its way onto an ancient, traditional-styled oven.
The piece de resistance of the meal was a work of art served up on huge, silver center piece consisting of colorful stripes of natural tahini, just picked and squeezed wheat grass, the best olive oil Israel has to offer, sumac, spicy sauce and the roasted insides of eggplant, all topped in sesame seeds. The idea was to take a piece of pita bread and scoop up everything from the platter.
The tastes, setting and humble atmosphere came together to create something very genuine and pure. A lot of the experiences I've had in Israel have come from the hands of program organizers, who from time to time seem to have their own agenda they're pushing or have kind of dropped out and don't seem to really care at all any more. As a result, a lot of the me this experience can feel disconnected, or like a "drink the koolaid" pressured sort of experience to feel the same sense of belonging that others are having, although I'm clearly not. I feel lost, and angry when this happens. So this experience was completely refreshing to me and made me at the brink of something amazing and like I needed to completely reevaluate my entire perceptions of the country around me.
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| A well made pita |
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| The end result of the chickpea stew |
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| Fixing the fire |
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| Traditional pita cooking methods. |
I returned home smelling like wood-smoke, exhausted and exhilarated. I had little time to rest, since Uri and Noga had invited me to join them, his other daughter Ayla and his wife, Tali at her family's house for Shabbat.
Her family welcomed me with great excitement and curiosity; it seems it's not every day that a random American just arrives at their doorstep looking to volunteer, so I was something of an anomaly. Tali and her family were gregarious, personable and animated; the entire family was fluent in English and had no reserves answering all my questions on religion, politics and Israeli culture that I had felt unsure about how or who to ask these of.
The evening was amazing, I was in a lovely, warm bubble of connection, plus excitement over what finding the Institute and a welcoming group at the kibbutz; the potential seemed limitless and I felt like I was on the verge of learning something new and really meaningful.
After that first week of introduction to Uri, Hila, Tami and Yael, who all have their own vital roles at the Institute, I have now been volunteering with them for around a month. It's become a meaningful and harmonious place for me to spend my days both in mind and body when I can orchestrate an escape from Beit She'an, which is typically two afternoons a week. The work I do varies from cataloging academic articles, to helping with Taglit (Birthright) group visits. I'm also learning new recipes for everything from almond milk, fermented lemon dip infused with mallow and lentil cakes. My heart feels involved in everything I do there, as well as the new things I'm learning, which hopefully helps others in the pursuit of something that I really believe in.
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In case you are curious, click here to link to Uri's website and background on Uri and what he studies.
The Institute/Mekomi that I refer to is called in Hebrew as המרכז להנהגת הבריאות which is tough to translate but means something like "Center for Health Leadership", but that doesn't quite encompass everything it does with foraging tours, the deli stocked with Rambam tea, cashew cheese and olive oil, plus lectures on a wide range of topics including eating local and green architecture. Click here to link to a webpage that will give more background on the "leadership" element of the Institute. You may need to right click and then choose an translate option to be able to view the page in English.
The Institute attracts a wide range of disciples all from different walks of life curious about what can be learned and new skills that can be acquired. Most people hail from the center of Israel; since it's such a small country, it's not usually more than a two hour drive to get from Tel Aviv to Kibbutz Navay Eitan. Click here to see on a map where the kibbuz is located, so you can see where I spend my days. Unfortunately, there are no locals from Beit She'an involved in what's happening at just one of the kibbutzim merely a 6 minute drive from their homes.
