Well, as you can probably see from the runner, it's Monday, July 12th. For me that's D -17 as far the army goes. For all that, I am happy to actually have something to talk about besides the army.
As I write this, I am barely capable of movement. My butt and legs are sore to the point of immobility. My back and arms, ditto. My head is throbbing in the glare of a hot cup of coffee on the desk in front of me, and a half eaten bowl of Cinno-minis. The hot white sky that comes with Tel Aviv July is searing through the window. The skin is stripped off the palm of my hands just below the fingers, and the insides of my thumbs. This is where most of the friction occurs when, with a sudden jolt, your pickaxe hits rock.
Three weeks ago an old acquaintance of mine called me and asked if I wanted to go on a "most expenses paid" trip to the Galil with some right wing activist friends of his. My friend's name is Mordy - I knew him only from the Sderot rallies around Chanuka time, which were almost entirely planned and executed by him. (I just brought Bar Ilaners.) So I went with him, and brought my friends G and J (trying to avoid names, internet and that) and went up north for a day with him and the Women in Green.
The Women in Green I had previously heard of as a radical settler organization. Which is fine with me. I'd heard they were kind of crazy - also fine with me. After all, we were just touring the Galil for a day. My friend G was very moved by the speakers, who talked about the importance of securing our land against arabs who try to squat on it, steal it or buy it out. They posed it from a tactical perspective - the arabs buy land that is high ground, or that connects Jewish settlements, in order to isolate and seize the initiative over said places in the event of a war. Hence, the fuss about the Shomron, whose hills loom over the lower Israeli coastal plain that international pressure would have us depend on as our only byway from north to south. I was also moved by such talk, but to a lesser extent. I'm already doing my service to the country, and I take a very open minded approach to talk about us vs arabs. I think it's important to know exactly who your enemies are, and dealing absolutely is less important than dealing effectively. I don't like to hear people go on and on about hating or killing arabs. When it matters and is necessary for our survival, we'll do it, without hesitation. Any other time is gratuitous.
While on this trip, they passed out fliers for their summer program: one week, salary 500 shkalim, 4-9 every day of the week, clearing fields and planting trees in the Gush Etyon block south of Jerusalem, in order to keep arabs from moving on those fields. My friend G immediately volunteered for this, and I followed, realizing that I was looking for a job, after all, and why not do something good? I've never worked in fields before - like REALLY worked. This could be fun, no?
One of the ladies, Nadia, said she'd see if there was more room on the charter for us. A few days later she told us there wasn't. G wanted to go anyway - she didn't mind working for free. I, however, still needed to find a job for July. Only last week, I randomly texted Nadia before signing up for a different program. The next day she textd me back that they did, in fact, have room for me.
Over the next few days, however, I began to hear more and more about the Women in Green, and in particular, Nadia, who it turns out is their leader. My friend Dovid had worked for her before, and urged me to be cautious. My cousins in Ramat Bet Shemesh had heard of them, which really got my attention. They were more radical than I'd pegged them, less respectable. Known for violent clashes with the police and the army, and arabs. They HATED arabs. Dovid said, do you actually KNOW whose land it is you're going to be working on?
Now I know a little bit about the Gush Etyon area. It is, in fact, mostly arab lands. And I for one, cannot afford to get arrested two weeks before going into the army. Also can't afford to get shot by arabs. My cousins urged me not to go. But I was loathe to turn my back on an opportunity such as this. I called G and discussed our options. I told her I'd made plans to escape from the area in a hurry if anything should happen, and made her promise to come if I did. We'd flee on foot to Efrat by pre-determined routes, and take a bus/tremp from there. I memorized maps and transportation scheduled, and photographed them just to be sure. This was the night before the job.
The next morning, I saw my friend Dovid outside the dorm offices, and we talked about it. He said if you think there's gonna be trouble, bring your American passport - you can say you were a dumb tourist then. As we were talking, Nadia texted me: So are you guys coming? I was gonna ask whose land it was specifically, Dovid stopped me. No! Trap! Ask her if you should bring your passport - that'll tell you a lot more. So I did.
Her response: I suppose one always needs ID.
Dovid looked up at me and laughed. Yeah, you're screwed. I grimaced, but we'd committed to come - it was a little late to back down.
It was a two hour journey from the Gush Dan are to the Gush Etzyon - first a bus from Bar Ilan to Jerusalem, then from there to Elazar, and a walk on foot along the road to Netzer, where we were to meet the Women in Green. As me and G walked, arabs passing us honked loudly and glared at us - thank God for highway dividers. When we got there we were surprised to find most of the other workers were... well, kids. The pamphlet had been targeting 16-18 year olds, which had also led us to hope they weren't expecting trouble. The girls there were 15-16. The boys were all more like 13-14. This also, encouraged me. There were some farmers, Mordy, some camera men, a rabbi, a pile of tools and , of course, Nadia.
After a brief chat, the group split up into men and women - I should say boys and girls, in hebrew its either way banim or banot - which went to separate work sites. It was a long, long walk, past the yishuv of Elazar - I carried a pickaxe and a hoe on my shoulder and walked with Mordy, who's about to join (he hopes) Golani Brigade in the army. He loves to pick fun at me for being in Netzach, but I don't really care. I am where I chose to be. And he's a douchebag anyway. He kept laughing about how me and G were gonna get blisters.
What followed was 3 and a half hours of hoeing and digging holes in neat rows for trees t0 be planted in. The fields were tiered like Russian steppes- when we finished one, we moved literally up to the next one overlooking it. Within the first fifteen minutes I'd scraped some skin off the palm of my hand, and me and Mordy had 3 holes. We moved a lot faster than the younger kids, and they all kind of assumed we were madrichim, which we of course took advantage of. I kept yelling at the kids in hebrew to clear the field, move on to the next hole, gather the tools, bring water, etc. Finally one of them asked Mordy how he got to be a madrich. He was like, well, I just kept coming every day and digging, and then one day I dug SO much that they said, Now you're a madrich. I couldn't help but laugh. Anyway it was much better than when he looked up at me and said, Wow Kovi! Isn't this GROUNDBREAKING?? When I shook my head he thought I didn't hear it. I had to stop him from repeating it a 3rd time, or God would have returned the world to utter nothingness.
The 3rd field was almost entirely rock. We were sitting there for about 45 minutes on just one hole, hacking and chipping away, with me occasionally throwing in little questions like, So are we gonna plant a tree in this rock, once we're done making a hole in it? Is that the plan? Eventually we broke through to soil. Each hole got easier after that. By now the insides of my thumbs were also stripped of skin and we'd gone through a lot of the water and all of our snacks. Mordy is a much bigger guy than me, and he was kinda wobbling back and forth, barely able to stand. I laughed at him as I climbed up to the next field, You're gonna needa pick up the pace Mr. Golani. The whole day we traded barbs about how my unit is essentially there for when his collapses on the Syrian front. Truth is, we'd be in trouble if that happened, because Golani is the best infantry we've got. By american standards, they'd be considered special forces.
Over the course of the work, the only trouble encountered was the appearance of an army jeep. I'm told that when it was on the girls side with Nadia, she exchanged some harsh words with them. On our side, it just kinda hung out. The young kids, most of whom were from Efrat and the surrounding Yishuvim, went over and chilled with the soldiers, exchanging high fives and such. Me and Mordy were careful to steer clear of them. Anyway, they drove off and there was no trouble.
As night fell we gathered the tools and walked back to the staging area, where I was rejoined by G and we all got sandwiches and T-shirts. We were all too sore to move. There was some talking, some eating, we danced, we kissed, we schmoozed, etc.
Mordy caught a tremp back. Me and G ended up waiting at the bus stop down on the highway for a bus back to Jerusalem. The stop had concrete barriers around it to take cover behind, if the arabs on the hills started shooting down at us. 2 hours (and 2 hot-fudge sundaes at the tachana merkazit) later, we were back at Bar Ilan.
Today I rolled out of bed feeling much like the living dead. I have yet to do much else with my morning. Why is it significant that my body is barely mobile today? Because, of course, we're heading back out. I was relieved that there was no trouble, but of course, barring that, it's back to work in the fields. They are, apparently, hefker fields that we're trying to make a move on before the arabs can get to them, or so they say. Either way, we're planting whole groves. The feeling of planting a grove of trees with your own hands, your own sweat, in the soil of Eretz Yisrael, watching the lights of Efrat in the background... it's something I've never experienced before. Could be my arms and hands and back won't forgive me for it, but I wouldn't miss it for the world. And now, I'm off the dorms office again to talk tachlis.
