65kms, 5 days, and far too many crazy outfits - Habo Hikes Again!

This past week has been long, energetic, and filled with far too many white-bread sandwiches! It started with a walk from the Akko kvutsah's house, and traipsed 25km to the Karmiel kvutsah's house, and then went on to the famous Yam L'Yam hike, where we walked from the Meditteranean Sea to the Kinneret in 4 days. It was heaps of fun to have all those hours of walking to get to know our friends better, and to see Israel in its raw elements. The hike was also a refreshing change in our Kaveret life, which ends in just one month. As always, it was a fantastic week. I don't think I'll ever get sick of hiking in Israel!

Did I mention that our Akko-Karmiel hike had a theme? A few of the boys presented us with a Lord of the Rings character  each, and the first element of our dressup. My character was Galadriel, so they made me a crown out of tinfoil - and then had to remind me who she was! Consequently, I was mortally embarrassed for the first hour of our hike. We were heading out of the town, and ta few boys walked up to strangers along the way to ask "slichah, aefo Mordor?" (excuse me, where is Mordor?). I could have died, despite my elfin powers...

I was disgusted by how polluted the waterways were  outside the villages surrounding Karmiel. Could that water be any faker or greener?

A Bedouin shack that we passed along the way, complete with donkey and pony.

We stopped for lunch at a conveniently placed couch on the roadside, to eat tortillas, baked beans and hummus. We may have hiked for about 6 hours by that point, but the capes and swords were still on. At least they couldn't ask the donkey where Mordor was...

I love how twisted old olive trees are, and these were particularly so!

Finally, after tramping from 6.30am till 2.30pm, we arrived in Karmiel.  It was such a relief to get out of the sun - even if it wasn't as hot as it has been earlier this year, and start heading through the forest to our house.

My favourite outfit of the day was definitely this one - taller-than-me Arzty and his dustpan-on-a-stick were just far too funny as Gimli the dwarf.

Yam L'Yam wasn't quite as outrageous in its dress code as our Akko-Karmiel hike. However, it did have impeccable timing, what with it being during the week of Sukkot. We started with a half-hearted and brief tekkes by the Meditteranean Sea, before driving to the start of our first day's walk. There was quite a bit of busing around during the 4 days (about 10 to 20km worth), but I figure that was better than having half of World Habo dropping dead midway through the trail!

The following photos are an attempt to show the beauty and variety of attractions that we saw while walking along such famous attractions as Mount Meyron (the second highest mountain in Israel) and Nachal Amud.

Our fantastic Madrich for the hike, Tamir, always had something interesting to say to us about the landscape.

The road ahead...

Our brightly-clad group - great times!

An old-style moshav, with the people at the centre and the land surrounding them. I couldn't help but love the symbolism!

Stopping for a much needed break, after climbing solidly for about an hour. Pity the top was only about a hundred metres away!

Sleeping in our portable tents during Sukkot, waking to the sunrise, and spending all day with friends - it was a great combination.

These cool little plants were a fantastic find. They flower in a spiral, so that only a small section is open at any one time. The flowers below them are dead, and the flowers above them have yet to bloom, but they are open and glorious. Its a fantastic metaphor for life in general, but especially for this point in Shnat. With only one month to go, it may be easy to remember what has been and was amazing, or to see what is still to come and will be just as memorable. However, the current little section is beautiful in its own way too, and we should appreciate that while we still have the chance.

With this thought in mind, we finished the hike with a well-deserved dip in the Kinneret, and prepared to go back to our Messimot around the north of the country. I'm excited to go to Manof again, but disappointed that our Messimah experience has been so inconsistent. At least the hike was so much fun!

Contemplation

From going to France, starting volunteering, meeting Chavka - the famed ghetto fighter - to being published in the Teruah, the pace of life at the moment seems to simultaneously be frustratingly slow and furiously fast. In between the ever-increasing doubt about my current role in Israel, and the worry over innumerable little wrongs that singularly mean nothing, but together paint a bleak picture; my current voyage is very different to the one that I set out on. In fact, it is a different voyage for each and every New Zealander that began it with me. As we struggle to understand how to regain control over our paths, valuable experiences, lessons and opportunities should be just around the corner. Instead, we have faced countless empty days and meaningless conversations that are draining, mind-numbing,and yet easy. We all face a difficult choice in our remaining 3 months in Israel - is the right choice always the easiest or most straight forward one?

Such questions and dilemmas have plagued me for months now, but I was very surprised to see them remain despite a fantastic trip to France. There, I was very privileged to meet my uncle's new partner, Laurent. He was lovely, and fitted in well to our crazy Livschitz family. I was almost more excited to see my Dad again though, as I had not seen any of my family in about seven months. We had some great fun together, including touring both Paris and Provence with the rest of my extended family and Laurent's. Despite the happiness of the occasion, however, I had to ask myself several times if I valued going back to New Zealand, Israel, or simply remaining in Europe most. Although I have made fantastic friends in Israel and learnt a lot, the volunteering so far has seemed shallow compared to my expectations of social work and regular roles as madrichim, instead of teacher aides. Furthermore, although it is rewarding to see the improvement in the troubled teenagers that we help (most of which are court-ordered to attend special high schools for at-risk youth), I find it fundamentally wrong that the process focuses as much on our individual development as on our chanichim's. So why not return to New Zealand? The answer to this is as simple as the reason for not staying in Europe - because as imperfect as our programme may be, it is a journey incomplete. And as flawed as the volunteering programme is, the children still need our help - even if they don't realise it.

Since coming back to Israel, life has hum-drummed along. We unsuccessfully try to fill our days with distraction that fails to cover the flaws of a life not completely purposeful, and have more conversations to fill the gaps where deep ones should lie. Today we met Chavka out of the blue (and by this I mean we all received a text late the night before telling us to prepare to see her early the next morning). She is full of life; bursting with charisma and impertinent charm, yet inspiring too in her own little way. As a member of Dror in Warsaw, she had frequently snuck out of the ghetto to bring back vital news about the outside world and other ghettos. When captured by the Germans, she pretended to be a Pole, and so was in Auschwitz under a false identity during the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. In spite of her story being so unique to the time in which it was set, a short introductory video of her showed us the true meaning she wished us to gain from the meeting. A clip of her talking to a few under-privileged Arabic children featured her in classic movement mode; "don't be so full of self-pity. You see a problem; so change it." It was clearly a hard message for the kids with no resources and little support to take, but I understood what she was saying.

Its not the first time such a message has been told to our group, and no doubt it won't be the last. So as we look at our average lives and see how they could be better, I wonder how we will take ourselves there, and if we have the strength to do so. Will our journey through Habonim Dror's ideals end where we want it to, or will it remain painfully below expectation?

Will the choices we make - I make -  be the right ones, or the easy ones?


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Some photos of France:

Before leaving - I can never get over that breath-taking view from our balcony!

The wild beauty of my little shortcut to the bus stop.

First sights of so many things - Paris, Dad, colossal French structures...

The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower was incredible - you could see miles of crowded landscape all around.  Dad and I couldn't figure out which palace this was, but the street dancing that occurred on its front steps was incredible!

The Batobus - a local water ferry - dropped us off at more famous sites, including Notre Dame. I couldn't believe the size of it!

Yes - he is standing outside Notre Dame, wearing a bright orange bunny suit with undies on the outside, banging a tambourine and holding a sign saying "your smile is beautiful". I like Parisian buskers.

Every one of the hundreds of statues of Jesus on the outside of Notre Dame was in a different pose. These were some of my personal favourites.

Morning strolls along the river.

The Lover's Bridge - couples seal their love by placing a padlock on the outside barrier of this bridge with their initials on it. How poetic!

Endless cafes made for endless amounts of delicious food, mostly in the forms of cheese, bread and wine.

Our picturesque little house in Provence.

A view from the back garden - too book-like for words!

An artist's touch - Chinese lanterns in the huge, spreading tree above the outdoor dining table.

More of the endless old buildings. Many of them were thrice the age of New Zealand , and made Israel look like a baby.

Even secret paths, worn down by hundreds of years of use, couldn't hide the beauty of Provence.

Churches existed everywhere, as did stone and camera-wielding tourists.

Gordes - a mountaintop city straight out of something like Lord of the Rings.

A patisserie that reminds me so much of our gorgeous house. It was so classic!

What would France be without roses? These bordered the property, and no photo could convey the depth of their colour or gorgeous smell.