Not about the War!

 

If you want to read a blog about what it is like here during the war than this blog is not for you. This is not a blog about the war or about living here during the war.

"A missile hit my grandmothers’ house in Kiryat Gat or at least it looks like it from the pictures."

That was the first thing my partner for tonight’s evening milking said to me. To clarify, you should know that I do not work in the cow shed, the dairy, but I do some extra chores there about once a month I milk in the evenings. Kibbutz Ketura is located in the southern Arava, a remote desert area that despite being in the “south” of Israel is as likely a target  for missiles as you finding penguins in the North Pole. One could say that we are unaffected by the war which would be doing an injustice to those who are now serving in the army and to their families and yet the threat of a missile attach or terrorist attack is remote. I remember the last time we had trouble here but that was so long ago and I don’t want to blog about the war.

My partner for the evening is a kibbutz volunteer, a young woman who has family in Israel but lives abroad. Volunteers like her are praise worthy under normal circumstances and even more so during these troubled times.

"I can't believe it. My cousin was with my grandmother but she decided to visit me here. I can't believe it. I am a little shaken up," This last part she says stiff upper lipped and yet visibly rattled.

The initial rinse cycle of the milking machines grinds to a halt and instead of comforting words I just emit a quiet "yalla" and start to prep the equipment. I have milked with this young woman before when she was still new here but now she is my boss during the milking. I love the fact that in a few short weeks a complete stranger can be entrusted to tend to our communitys' assets and we (the kibbutz members) take it in stride.

All the cows are now waiting for us to finish the prep and start the milking. This is unprecedented because our herd, which was once around 300 strong now whittled down to just over 100 as the kibbutz is in the throws of expanded our algae business and increase our export of nutraceuticals while we slowly sell off cows and tear down cow sheds.
 
"Why would they shoot missiles" at my grandmother?
 
She gets a chortle from me
 
"I mean why would they even shoot missiles at Kiryat Gat? There is nothing there. What could you hit?"
 
My first thought is to that a missile could hit the Negev Brewery. Okay I have a one track mind. The Negev Brewery has an interesting collection of workers including a former Southern Lebanese Army soldier living the dream and brewing delicious beer. I hope they are safe.
 
Actually I am a little annoyed. Mostly at my self for not having more words of comfort but also to my thoughts that go something like this, “So if it isn't your grandmother it is someone's. grandmother or brother or spouse but this is not a blog about the war. I do not want to blog about politics or who did what to whom or what do the politicians need to do. There are some great blogs out there, enough for everyone to choose one that speaks to their frame of mind.
 
Tonight I am thinking about cows milk and wondering how well thought out was the kibbutz decision to close the dairy and expand the algae farm? If Israel becomes sunk in an economic boycott our algae my be in jeopardy and that precious milk will be missing from the Israeli table. Perhaps we will have to eat our own antioxidants and suffer the side effects of longevity.

The milking proceeds very quickly until we are surprised by a young lady who is calling to the volunteer. She leaves and has a short tête-à-tête with her cousin and I try to read their faces.

 
Reading faces is something we all do but during a war we become instant news analysts. Is that person angry with what I said? Is that woman crying because of the war or perhaps some other mundane tragedy?
 
“Everyone is all right”, she says and again my mind wanders back to Kiryat Gat until she adds, "It was her neighbors’ apartment!"

No one leaves unscathed from these events even the name of this young woman reminds me of another whose boyfriend was killed while serving in the southern Gaza Strip. We all know a someone who.. a boyfriend or husband a son or father and yet this really is not a blog about the war.
 
In an odd juxtaposition the reason I am even at a milking tonight is because of the hostilities in Gaza. If this were just your run of the mill summer, these cows would now be living in the greater Gaza suburbs. These cows are actually earmarked for pastures (okay cowsheds) closer to the missile range. These cows are luckier than they know. Some cows have been less fortunate.
 
The last cows are milked and we are washing and putting away the equipment so that everything is ready for the morning. I am using the high pressure hose to clean out the muck while the kibbutz volunteer returns the cows for the night. As she passes by she says, “ My grandma and two cousins are okay...and so is my great grandma. She is one hundred and one and usually beats the others while running to the bomb shelter.”
 
I am done for the night so I cycle back to the house and enjoy a beer with a couple of the my kids. Now as I type this I click over to see images from the rocket attack on Kiryat Gat, mostly images of a car on fire but no mention of one hundred and one year olds running for cover or lucky cousins that fled to the south.

I realize that you think I am writing about the war but I am not, I am writing about living in Israel. Its about going to work, about serving your country about volunteering and about knowing that you are part of something greater. Another day in the Jewish State.

 

Shabbat Shalom