It was Pesach
again, two years after I had made my lekh-lekhâ
from the Desert Heights
down into the Water rift.
Tamir informed me that he wanted to have some solitude in the desert
of the Salt Sea.
"But why?"
I asked, "what's wrong with our
desert here, in which we recently walked and talked?"
We sat down and he told me his story:
"I worked at Metzuqe-Dragot, in that hosting business high
up above the Salt Sea.
Devastated by the rejection of someone I was in love with, I left
the place in anger.
I sought refuge near the new springs on the beach,
which by then had not yet been discovered by anyone.
I had a sleeping bag, a pot and some canned food which my father
brought me from Dimona.
After 4 weeks or so I felt somewhat healed and traveled down to
Eilat, where I met YOU."
"What new springs?
Sweet water springs in the SaltSea Desert ?
What are you talking about!"
He managed to present this miracle
so vividly, that I asked, if I could go with him and see for myself.
A guy among the beach dwellers promised to bring us with his car.
When it became night, and the promise was not fulfilled, we set out on our
own.
2 hours before midnight, we were standing at the northern end of Eilat,
hoping a driver would comply with our crazyness
and give a lift to an old woman, a young boy and a dog.
Shortly before midnight it happened - a truck stopped and took us all in.
Tamir and I took turns in keeping the driver alive by talking,
until we reached - after 3 hours - the junction, where the truck
continued up west.
We walked east, down the road to Sodom, tired, but exhilarated.
Finally we left the road and searched for a place to sleep.
We had hardly put our heads on the ground for some hours,
when the glaring sun made us continue on our odd journey.
Walking and hitchhiking brought
us to the Chemical Factory City of Sodom.
While waiting in a rude cabin at the gate, Tamir started to shake:
"I hope they will not recognize me",
he whispered as if hiding.
"I once was a watchman here and my gun
went off by mistake...
it's hard to believe, but no one was hurt, except that I was fired."
They did recognize him, but without mentioning that incident.
Later I made him
understand, that not only was he teaching me about my future,
he himself had to drive back into his past and heal , before we
could come here.
After 18 hours we reached Tamir's
Salt Springs.
Now it's crowded there, a murder has occurred,
but then we felt like the first humans on earth.
We undressed, and naked we immersed in the salty Sea,
rinsed in a tiny pond, hidden among high reeds,
and built a structure of mud to intensify the flow of a little waterfall.
Through all the 18 hour voyage Tamir kept brainwashing me :
"In Eilat your SPS basis of Desert Economy
does not exist .
Where among all the bragging hotels
and the contaminated beaches
and the fortified, mined borders
can you yet find Space or Purity or Silence?
On the other hand -
can't you see the meaning of this eruption of sweet water
along the saltiest of seas and the dryest of deserts?"
Tamir's reasoning was reinforced
by my own:
Watching the flags of Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Jordan on our FourNationTent,
visitors pointed out, what I disapproved of myself:
Where is the Palestinian flag?
Aren't the Palestinians Israel's true adversary/potential partner?
But no Palestianian land borders the REd Sea.
I don't remember, when and how
we returned to Eilat,
but my mind was made up:
"You are right, Tamir!
We have to replace the Red Sea by the Salt Sea."
It took from Pesach to Shavu'oth
until I was ready.
It was another enormous upheaval in my life.
I had finally achieved some stability,
i.e. permission from the authorities.
My mobile home with its palmfrond pent-house on its roof,
appeared like a palace at the edge of the water.
Even now, writing this, [and re-reading on 2013-03-06]
I feel more than just nostalgia.
Imagine! To get up in the morning
and to just run 12 meters right into the WATER!
We traveled once more to our new
destination.
Where could we legally park the bus?
It was clear, that we needed to be hosted by someone.
And what about our Eilat partners, Albert and Mali and the others?
What about the whole idea and NGO called "RedSeaPartnerSHIP"?
Tamir's father lent us his car
and we roamed around the Salt Sea.
On the Israeli coast (70 km ) there live less than 800 people.
The 1967 so-called "green border" divides it into two parts:
north of Ein-Gedi it's Palestinian land, not an option for ME.
But it's where we ended up - after all our knocking at doors.
It was shortly after sunset, the
illumination mystical:
"Let's just drive up here to have a look
at the Daraje".
Wadi Darajeh or - in Hebrew - Nakhal Dragot
which runs down from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea,
like depicted in Ezechiel's
breath-taking vision (Ch.47),
held in store a terrifying event in the end.
But that evening, when we peeped into the amazing canyon,
I also saw lights in human abodes , forlorn in the high desert.
"What's that?" I asked Tamir.
"That is the place where I left in anger,
remember?"
"But it's a place, where we have not
yet tried, let's go there!"
"No way", he retorted but when I reminded him of
Sodom:
"Maybe you have to do some healing here,
Tamir?"
We drove up to the small hosting huts and knocked at the door.
Tamir chose to bare himself and
apologize for the way he had left.
I believe, that this courage opened the door.
Though they were afraid of us, they didn't say "no" rightaway.
We waited in Eilat, and waited, but one day I said:
"Let's move north. If we keep waiting,
we'll never leave."
Little did I know, what implication
of this new lekh-lekhâ
'waylaid' me.
After we had dismantled the palace,
the tents, the "pent-house",
but not ripped off part of the palmfronds which covered the roof,
we started the journey on a dustroad parallel to the highway,
to escape the police.
Tamir and one helpful-hurtful guy started to cook our dinner.
After about 20 km the bus, packed to the rim, came to a stop.
When none of us could make the engine move again,
I urged the boys to leave me and go home for the feast!
"Until I'll find someone to repair the
bus, I'll celebrate alone."
In hindsight I see, that my home gave me a chance to part from it.
Parting of this kind has to be done in solitude.
Believing that I was still mobile, I once more enjoyed ,
that I could just stop in the middle of nowhere
and then explore the new environment with a beginner's mind.
After the night and the day of the feast and another night,
my mobile phone brought a person to repair the bus one last time.
For when he got the engine moving
-
"I don't know what I did, but you better
use the momentum and move " -
I drove a little to the end of the dust-road,
crossed over to the highway,
and - though it was dark - had the police on my tail right away.
No sincere apology helped me this time.
It was over.
They accompanied me to the next gas-station, Yotvatah.
I parked my home and slept in it one more time.
In the morning a truck towed me all the way to the Dead Sea.
A few weeks later I went to Eilat for my trial and was fined.
13 years of mobility had come to an end.
What was worse:
13 years of living fencelessly also had come
to an end.
In Metzuqe-Dragot I found a free space on the highest spot,
but this didn't blur the awareness of living in a place surrounded
by barbed wire.
two sad photos taken on
2003_12_08, after the beginning on "Noah's Shore".
Above: traces of the earth triangle of my pyramidal tent
and behind it the little shrubs which I used to nurture with my
urine and little waste water.
Below: behind the dry shrub - part of the barbed wire fence
and ugly electricity poles and several garbage containers
I don't know, what made me decide,
that this was also the end of my living in this bus.
With Tamir's help we created another beautiful little palace,
but only for the purpose of receiving visitors and guests there.
"When our partners, David and Ya'acov,
Albert & Mali, will come,
we'll have a cosy place to meet and work".
I proposed to Tamir, that we
should live in our tents.
Each of us roamed around to find her/himself the right spot.
Some 25 years ago, soldiers had dug corridors of ditches there.
Tamir had the guts to choose a spot, where two ditches met,
so as to be able to create a two floor tent,
one mainly for his bitch which soon gave birth to two puppies and
died in doing so.
 |
Here
are two photos made when we
revisited the place in December 2003,
Tamir at the ditch, on which the tent was erected
and Tamir at the grave which we dug for his bitch.
A hair of mine disquietens the appearance of a peaceful scene....
|
I rejoiced in the symbolism of Tamir's choice:
Hadn't our FourNationTent in Eilat advertised the prophesy:
"they shall beat their swords
into plowshares,
and their speares into pruninghooks"
(Isaiah
2,4)
Our tents were about 300m apart , both located towards the north.
We could not see the guest cabins, nor were we seen by the people.
I took care of buying 2 little solar systems for lamps, fans and
tapes,
and began to explore, what we were supposed to do at the Salt Sea.
-policemen2.jpg)
The very day I came back from my three
month exile in India (1998),
I found Tamir surrounded by a group of Palestinians from Tul-Karem,
who trained to become policemen.
Their training - strangely enough - included
a practical course
which took place at Metzuqe-Dragot.
Tamir was there for them,
and asked me too,
to spend an evening with them.
They wrote us this letter into our guest-book.
Some days ago [2003_06_21] I informed Tamir of what I feel
will become my new assignment.
In some aspects - but only in some - it may be a continuation
of our RedSeaPartnerSHIP.
It was then that Tamir, who recently dared to move to the
ridge above the Mediterranean, said:
"You know, our cousins - or more exact, our brothers - are
always around, whereever the bus is."
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The last ten days of my "exile"
were spent in Jordan,
and the very last day in Bethlehem -
at the day of the US president's arrival-
and in Ramallah.
I searched for partners, as always,
and found a man named Nijm - "Star" - who
was ready to gather for me
the representatives of
the Palestinian green NGOs.
|
|
After preparation in writing and phonecalls,
David, Ya'acov and I went to meet the people "Star" had invited.
We went with Ya'acov's car, but didn't dare to enter Palestine.
So we were fetched from Jerusalem by someone.
I shared my dream
about partnerships in mobile desert hosting
enterprises.
We learnt,
that according to the outline of the future Palestinian State
,
40% would be desert (Israel: 60%),
and that a certain desert area already belonged to the autonomy.
All of us hoped, that such a cooperation as I proposed,
would
become reality.
But soon after this gathering I was evicted
from Metzuqe-Dragot, and the strength to promote my initiative
in Ramallah left me.
"Of course", nobody else took
over~~ |
-policemen.gif) |
-Ramallah-1998-9-1.jpg)
When "Star" returned to
his parked car, after he had brought me to the director of a
certain NGO,
he found a fine attached to it!
I was glad, that there was a Palestinian police who could stick
fines to car windows, and I was glad, that this happened to both
of us. I begged "Star" to let me pay half of it!
-Ramallah-1998-9-2.jpg) |
A last attempt to win over Oren, the manager, for my ideas.
That was in January 1999.
On February 21 I got a 3 day ultimatum to leave, the bus included.
-withYa%27acov.jpg)
-Tamir-Yamit-mytent.jpg)
-CR-Metzuqe.jpg)
-Ramallah-1998-9-3.jpg)