Cows, Cliffs, and Conversation

Kfar Vitkin and Netanya

It’s Shabbat once again and its hard to believe another week has gone by. Last Friday Atar (Lew’s “boss”, the Director of Philanthropy at Sheatufim) invited us to her home in Kfar Vitkin for Shabbat dinner. She suggested we take an afternoon train (about a 20 minute ride) to nearby Netanya where she would meet us with her car. She arrived with her son Zeev (2 years 8 months) who had a lot to say about the train. We traveled the short distance to her moshav (cooperative village) where she and her husband, a “son of the village” rent a small home. En route she pointed out the closest beach and the hummos restaurant she suggested we might like to try. The village is located between the two main highways that run from south to north. In the past the primary enterprise of the residents was dairy production with each family, including Atar’s in-laws, maintaining milking cows behind their homes. Every day the milk would be collected and processed in a central facility and trucked out for distribution. Gil’s father still raises some cattle for beef and his mother makes cheese but these are hobbies rather than for income. The aroma of the barn still wafts over the village though. One child from each family is allowed to live in the community, which is how Atar and Gil are able to rent their home not far from his parents. They have a large yard with a garden and fruit trees and plenty of space for Zeev and his new puppy, Nano, to play. After a little tour, Atar sent us off in her car to explore until dinnertime.

Our first stop was the local hummos restaurant where a bevy of young, hippie-esque women served the customers who ordered from a colorful chalkboard menu. The restaurant’s motto, printed on the sign outside and on the check, is “Make Hummos Not War.” , Next we headed for Netanya, a large seaside town and home to a popular Ikea store (no, we didn’t stop there). We arrived just before the outdoor market was closing and got a good deal from the flower vendors on a bouquet to bring back to Atar. Parking the car, we headed down to the main plaza which is a huge open area lined with cafes and arcades, leading to the promenade that runs the length of the cliffs overlooking the sea.

Although Netanya is often called the Riviera of Israel, and apparently does have a lot of French-speaking residents, it put me more in mind of Santa Monica. The promenade is lined with beautiful, fragrant plantings, play areas, a roller skating area and an outdoor amphitheater. There’s even a glass elevator that goes down to the beach and closes at 6 p.m. on Friday for Shabbat. Across the street, lining the promenade and facing the sea, are the luxury high rises inhabited by wealthy Americans and others. We looked on the website for one particularly hideous new complex, built out of gray concrete and looking like industrial turbines, and found that the apartments sell for about a million and a half dollars.

We descended via an impressive stairway down to the beach and walked a couple of miles, enjoying the spectacular day and cloudless blue sky. At the far end of the beach, as we neared a resort hotel perched on the cliffs above, we came across a number of ultra-orthodox families and young couples. We wondered where they came from. After we hiked up to the hotel to use the facilities (and where we saw a banquet hall set up for a Tu B’Shevat celebration, the new year of the trees) we started walking back along the clifftop walkway. A short distance down the road we came to a very large yeshiva/school. On the corner was a sign marking the entry to a religious neighborhood and requesting that anyone who chose to enter should respect their customs and dress modestly. In an odd juxtaposition, this neighborhood is almost directly across from a huge seaside mansion, replete with its own helicopter pad. As we concluded our stroll on the promenade we passed many Russian-speaking couples and a group of oldsters sitting out in their wheelchairs enjoying the pleasant evening.

Then it was back to Atar and Gil’s home for Shabbat supper. We lit the candles and sang a few songs, then feasted on various appetizers such as kibbeh, pickled cabbage, grape leaves, nuts and dried fruits for Tu B’shevat, squash soup with a special middle eastern spice mix that we’ve since purchased, fresh cheese made by Gil’s mom, eggplant from their garden baked with tahini, chicken stew with curry, sweet potatoes, and Jerusalem artichokes, Russian style potato salad, green salad, rice, and, after a pause to digest a bit, fabulous carrot cake studded with sesame seeds and a tea infusion from lemon verbena freshly picked from the garden. It’s a good thing we took a long walk!

The conversation ranged from the current economic crisis, the need for corporate oversight/accountability and what role government should take, to questions about whom we supported and why in the recent U.S. presidential election. Gil, who has a business degree and works in high tech has a more positive view of the merits of capitalism, while Atar, the activist, weighs in on the side of the need to enforce social responsibility on corporations. Then we moved onto marriage, divorce and gender relations. Atar and Gil, not wanting to validate the Orthodox stranglehold on state-recognized marriages, followed the time-worn Israeli custom of leaving the country to get a marriage license in Cyprus (kind of like a quickie Las Vegas marriage) which the state accepts as valid. However, Atar also wanted a Jewish wedding so they had a lovely outdoor afternoon affair in her parents village, replete with chuppa and the seven blessings, conducted by a woman friend. Looking at the pictures and hearing about the event, we were struck at the similarity to our own wedding in Chapel Hill. When I asked about the prevalence of divorce, Atar said the rate is about 40%. She explained that whichever member of the couple applies for the divorce first, whether it be in a civil or religious court, the venue they choose will have jurisdiction. Men tend to choose the religious court because they will probably get a better deal there.

The conversation then segued into questions about the efficacy of real Arab-Israeli dialogue at the personal level. Atar shared her experiences with a group of Palestinian and Israeli women and the two ways of thinking that coexist uneasily in her: on the one hand she truly believes that all people have similar goals to love, be loved and live in peace, while on the other hand she has come face to face with the conflicting value sets, whatever their historical origins, which make it difficult, if not impossible, for members of each group to understand the other. She feels that this has become even more challenging as many of the brightest, most educated Palestinians have moved away. In response some Israelis have become cynical and just want to live their own lives, while others are sad and frustrated. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful knowing that this passionate and thoughtful young couple is committed to making a difference for the common good.

As the evening came to a close, Atar was curious about why we had decided to spend our sabbatical in Israel. Her question made me realize that aside from the a desire to be in a beautiful place, having lots of stimulating new experiences, I also wanted an opportunity to explore the many unresolved feelings I have about my relationship to this country. There is a big gap between the incredible summer I spent here as a teenager and our current sojourn. During those years Israel was mostly on the backburner for me. So now it’s time to reevaluate and deepen my understanding of life here.