If your planning to travel; I have one tip for you. Don't be a complete mong and take a suitcase. Travelling around a country with a suitcase is the travelling equivalent of Superman after a bumpy horse ride (RIP Christopher Reeve). A simple task, like walking up a set of stairs, becomes such a strenuous task thanks to this fat, rectangular box your carrying around. So needless to say, my trip from Tel-Aviv to Kibbutz Bar'am wasn't the most riveting time I've ever had.
I had to get the train to Haifa and then get the bus all the way to the kibbutz. I honestly can't remember how long it took, possibly 3-4 hours(?). The trains in Israel are awesome, they have these double decker carriages. Much more advanced than anything we have on the British Isles (although that's not hard!). It was also on this journey that the whole situation of potential war in this country came to me.
Everytime you enter a shopping centre, train station, bus station etc. you must go through a metal scanner; like at the airport. Whilst it's annoying and time consuming; I wasn't complaining one bit about these security measures. Palestinian militants have attacked the Israeli's many times with suicide bombers. There is a constant threat of a terrorist attack at any time (suicide bombing on a bus is a terrorist attack in my eyes). But I can honestly say, I felt safer in Israel than some dodgy places in England at night time. Because the Israeli's have their security on lock down. Everywhere you look, you'll see an Israeli soldier ready to have a go if it all kicks off.
The Israeli soldier is no toy soldier either. All Israeli's must do national service. The girls do 2 years, and the men do 3 years. Everywhere you look you will see an Israeli soldier casually waltzing around with an M16 strapped over their shoulder. At first I found this intimidating, being from a country where it's barely legal to carry a water pistol. But after a while, I realised that if I was to be at a scene where a terrorist is attacking, I would be surrounded by some of the hardest soldiers in the world to take them down. It's pretty much a nation of Mediterranean squaddies; and I wasn't complaining one bit.
After getting the double decker train to Haifa, I had to wait two bloody hours for the bus! What was I to do for two hours? Luckily for me, there must of been a lot of soldiers on leave or something, because the bus station was full of them. I love people watching, I particularly love people watching if it involves a bunch of hot Israeli girls in army uniform rocking a big fuck off rifle on their shoulder. I was starting to wish the bus would never come. But lo and behold, here it comes.
I love travelling on bus' and trains. Screw the haters. It's even better in a foreign country, it gives you a chance to just sit back and marvel at all the weird and bizarre things passing by. This bus journey was awesome, we passed some truly amazing scenery, it only sucks that I couldn't stop and take a picture sometimes. But this bus wasn't Japanese. The only thing slightly concerning me during this journey was the spotty little runt sitting next to me. Out of all the beautiful girls on this bus, I ended up with the Jewish Ron Weasley sitting next to me. Great. Not only this, he thought it would be wise to rest his M4 rifle across his lap whilst pointing the barrel next to my leg. He didn't seemed bothered at all. He just sat there listening to his I-pod and texting away like the spotty teenager he was. But I wasn't going to say anything to him... I quite like the idea of not having a bullet in my leg.
As the sun set, the roads started to meander like the Amazon river as we proceeded up the mountainous terrain of north Israel. I was loving it. In England, the closest thing we have to a mountain is Vanessa Feltz, so when you encounter unfamiliar terrain like this, it really is a joy to look at. Whilst I was lost in this child like admiration of all around me, we suddenly arrived at my new home. Kibbutz Bar'am.
I was told that as I came off the bus someone would meet me. This wasn't the case. I wandered about outside some shop like a complete wally. Typical, nothing can never just run smoothly for me ay? Just as I thought that, an Israeli man in his late 20's walked out the shop door. I told him i've just arrived as a volunteer and have no idea what i'm doing. Straight away he gets on the phone for me. He hangs up and, with a smile, tells me my man will be here shortly. What a relief.
Not long after I had been told this; an Israeli police 4x4 pulls up in front of me. At first I'm quite taken back by this and I don't quite know what to make of it all, even more so when the window scrolls down. Down goes the window and appears a well built man who looks to be in his 40's, with a face as red as Rudolph the reindeer's nose. On top of all this, he's rocking sunglasses which are clearly to try and give off the Terminator look. But in all fairness, he carries off the Terminator act pretty damn well. He stops the vehicle and scans me up and down (probably scanning for the best way to kill me). He slowly says to me "somebody will be with you shortly..." and off he went. As quick as he came, he was gone. And to be honest with you, he had completely left me none the wiser to what was going on. "Who the hell was this Israeli Terminator wannabe?" This man is Raviv.
I was getting pretty impatient by now, I had a long journey and I really needed to just get to my new home and settle down.
"Are you the new guy?"
I turn around to be confronted by what I can only describe as a juggernaut of a man. His name is Alex from Sweden. I have this theory on Swedish men; you have two types. Their either built like a matchstick and are just complete and utter fairies, or you get the massive Viking type who loves to get wasted and smash a skull or eight. Alex was the latter.
He gave me a a brief low down as he walked me to the 'Volunteers'. This is what the dorms are called where the volunteers live (funnily enough). So apparently the first job everyone starts on is apple packing. There is a small apple packing factory on the kibbutz, he warned me how monotonous the work is and my best bet is just working hard and the hopefully get a job working on the apple orchards or in the kibbutz dining hall. Before all this though, he asks me a question he feels very passionate about. This question could either make us great friends or the worst of enemies. His question is:
"Do you drink?", to which I reply
"I'm English". This answer is good enough for him and not long into my first night, he's soon putting me to the test of whether I was being truthful or not. But more on that later.
When we arrived at volunteers I was greeted by a few people chilling on the seating area. Not because their nice people, just because they happened to be smoking outdoors when I arrived. From what I can remember, there were two girls (one from England and one from Sweden) and two male convicts- I mean Australians. One of the Aussies was the scruffiest and vilest creatures I'd ever laid eyes on. He had long scruffy hair and sported a battle worn Alice Cooper t-shirt with a whole under each armpit. Seeing him made me feel proud of the fact we sent them all away to an island in the southern hemisphere. I would later learn that there is no God when I ended up sharing a room with this UK reject for most of my stay at the kibbutz.
I was kindly shown to my room, I would be sharing a room with a Korean and a Swede. After staying at a hostel for two weeks; sharing a room with only two people seemed like a complete luxury. The dorms are split into two buildings and can hold about 80 volunteers in total. I arrived in winter time, so there was significantly less than this at the time. There was about 40 of us maybe at this point. But that was more than enough to cause some havoc. Within my first night there I was made to feel right at home. Apparently after Alex showed me to my room, everybody was asking him about me, he said to them all
"He's from England and I can't understand anything he says". I was still failing to get with grips to the fact that nobody could understand my flawless English. I needed to start dumbing it down a bit.
As soon as I had put my suitcase in my room, Alex kindly provided me with some alcohol. Alex's room was THE party room. If you wanted drink and scandal, Alex was the man to go to. My first night was a messy one, in fact the following months full stop, were going to be messy ones. So messy, that I will not tell you of them all now, because I think the partying alone deserves a whole chapter to itself. That's how crazy partying on a kibbutz is. I think the environment helps you get wasted. I can't explain it, for some reason, getting drunk on a kibbutz makes you a million times drunker and crazier than you've ever been drinking in your standard Friday/Saturday pub or nightclub. To be a kibbutz volunteer in the Holy Land and do the things a volunteer does, is truly a middle finger in God's face.
In fact, I'm getting so excited just thinking about the things I will write about my times in Bar'am. I'm going to stop there and call it a night. So stay tuned folks.
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