The Long Goodbye

Thursday, January 29, 2009

We finished packing this morning and cleaned our barracks (leaving it in much better condition than we found it). Then, it was back on the bus to visit the desert home of David Ben Gurion, one of the founders of the modern State of Israel.

The home is located in a former kibbutz called Sde Boker. Ben Gurion believed that the Negev desert, which covers more than one-half the land area of Israel, contained enormous untapped potential for the State of Israel. His dream was that five million people would settle in the desert and that science would provide answers to the challenge of “conquering” the desert.

While serving as prime minister, Ben Gurion stopped at Sde Boker on his way to a meeting in Eilat. The place was inhabited by a small group of settlers who rode horses and tended cattle and sheep. A short time later, Ben Gurion, already well into his 60’s, applied for membership in the Kibbutz, and moved there in 1953 after resigning from the government.

Ben Gurion insisted on doing all of the jobs on the kibbutz, and objected strongly when the work assignment notices referred to him as “Mr. Ben Gurion” rather than “David.”

While he returned to the government several times, Ben Gurion spent his final years at Sde Boker. If anyone wanted to see him, they had to go “up” to the Negev to visit. (The use of the preposition was intentional: since the Negev was in the south, it would be normal to go “down” to Sde Boker; however, Ben Gurion believed that traveling to the Negev had an element of spiritual elevation.)

We gathered under one of several pavilions to hear a talk about Ben Gurion’s life. Israeli soldiers gathered under several nearby pavilions to listen to similar lectures. Training for this army includes learning about the history of the country, and troops completing basic training often attend graduation exercises here.

Ben Gurion’s house has been preserved as it was while he lived there. There are hundreds and hundreds of books, as well as a small kitchen which Ben Gurion’s wife, Paula, insisted on having. (Kibbutz residences would not normally include kitchens because meals were eaten in a common hall.)

We then travelled a few kilometers to the gravesites of Ben Gurion and his wife. The spot overlooks the north end of the magnificent Ramon Crater and there is a breathtaking view of hills, mountains and dry river beds. Ben Gurion’s gravestone has three dates: the year of his birth, the year of his death and the year he emigrated to Israel. Ben Gurion considered the last date to be the beginning of his second life.

Ben Gurion’s dream of populating the Negev has not yet been realized. But this brilliant, stubborn and quirky man still occupies a major place in the Israeli psyche, representing a world view that asks “why not?” and a willingness to “walk the walk” instead of just “talking the talk.”

We then started the last leg of our journey, dropping some volunteers off in Beersheva and then continuing to the massive Central Bus Station in Tel Aviv. I had heard of a store in the station that sells Israeli army clothing and I thought I’d check it out. I bought several items and when the owner found out we were Sar-El volunteers, he insisted on giving me and three volunteers travelling with me Israeli flag pins with the word “Shalom.”

We took a public bus to the airport. The ride was much too long, and my friend Ellis was right to suggest that the train would have been a better idea. Since our flights do not leave until very late this evening (midnight and 1 a.m.), we certainly were not in a hurry. A good thing.

Check-in at Ben Gurion was uneventful, and I had a chance to spend some time in the new terminal. World class, with a wide variety of shops.

I was also sure to fulfill a promise to my son, David. Last Saturday, as we were descending the steps to the Western Wall in Jerusalem, David pointed out a 20-shekel note lying on the ground. Since it was the Sabbath, David wouldn’t pick it up. I did, and David immediately asked what I would do with it. I told him I would donate it to charity.

David may not have believed me, because he called me on my way to the airport to remind me to give the 20 shekels away. The Lubavitch movement still maintains a kiosk at the airport, and the charity box is now 20 additional shekels to the good.

Next stop: JFK.