Evening, Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Independence Day
We did not want to celebrate. The Expulsion Authority had hung Israeli flags on the lampposts throughout our refugee camp. A bandstand was erected by Thai workers in the public area close to our caravilla. We hung out our orange Gush Katif flag.
Moshe and I walked through the camp. Schizophrenia had set in. Flags flew in the area of those who left Gush Katif before the expulsion. Some people tied orange ribbons on the flagpoles or splashed orange coloring on the Magen David of the flag. Others flew Gush Katif flags.
In the area called N'vei Dekalim, nary a flag was to be seen. Home after home shouted a silent protest. The State of Israel had betrayed them and this year, they would not celebrate. Some streets had tables and chairs set out so neighbors could share a subdued dinner. Signs posted during the night saying "We are not celebrating this year" were torn down in the morning by Expulsion Authority workers, to remind us that we are refugees and they are in control.
The band played. A member of each Gush Katif community stepped up to the microphone, stated his or her name, and spoke briefly about their now-destroyed villages. Yes, the band played and teen-age yeshiva boys bused in to bring a bit of joy danced. We didn't. Children's rides had been set up on a basketball court. Vendors sold cotton candy, hot corn and hamburgers. An ice cream truck slowly prowled the area.
A festive evening forced upon us. We would have chosen a different way.
Morning, Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Independence Day, Nitzan
A morning visit from family. Moshe's brother, as adept at these things as Moshe isn't, fixed a dangling light fixture and replaced a broken drawer knob. We ate a fish lunch while the savory odor of grilled meat wafted in from neighboring barbecues, mangalim. After all, it is Yom Ha'Atzmaut. We refused to participate. Neighbors settle for the ubiquitous Independence Day mangal.
Afternoon, Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Independence Day, Lachish - A New Gush Katif
We drove to meet like-minded people in Lachish. Lachish is a magnificent region in the center of the country, almost devoid of Jewish settlement, within the Green Line, with gentle rolling hills and grape vineyards nestled in its valleys. (On your map of Israel, between Beit Shemesh and Kiryat Gat.) Here we will build our new home, a new N'vei Dekalim.
Several of the Gush Katif settlements have already moved into existing kibbutzim and moshavim to bolster their dwindling population. We - over a thousand cars from all over the country made the journey - were warmly welcomed by Danny Moravia, head of the Lachish Regional Council.
An explanation of the ancient history of Lachish was given. I had already "Googled" the region. A travel route between Egypt, Israel and Syria, Lachish abounds with archaeological artifacts in unexplored caves. The climate is temperate - low humidity, comfortable temperatures.
The Lachish plan is to build within the ecosystem. Homes, made of the indigenous materials of the region, will become part of the surrounding landscape. A planned spa includes Jewish spiritual nourishment while the body cures itself in the mineral waters to be found in the region.
The plans are there. The plans call for N'vei Dekalim to build on the hills and slopes of an area to be called Egoz. We are waiting for government approval.
I'm excited. To be part of this adventure to create a township from its inception is the stuff of life. An empty hill is to be transformed into a town - a wonderful town, a Jewish town - at one with the environment.
Someday, we will celebrate Yom Ha'Atzmaut with joy. It will be a celebration that we, the expelled Jews from Gush Katif, will initiate; not one that was forced upon us.
We did not want to celebrate. The Expulsion Authority had hung Israeli flags on the lampposts throughout our refugee camp. A bandstand was erected by Thai workers in the public area close to our caravilla. We hung out our orange Gush Katif flag.
Moshe and I walked through the camp. Schizophrenia had set in. Flags flew in the area of those who left Gush Katif before the expulsion. Some people tied orange ribbons on the flagpoles or splashed orange coloring on the Magen David of the flag. Others flew Gush Katif flags.
In the area called N'vei Dekalim, nary a flag was to be seen. Home after home shouted a silent protest. The State of Israel had betrayed them and this year, they would not celebrate. Some streets had tables and chairs set out so neighbors could share a subdued dinner. Signs posted during the night saying "We are not celebrating this year" were torn down in the morning by Expulsion Authority workers, to remind us that we are refugees and they are in control.
The band played. A member of each Gush Katif community stepped up to the microphone, stated his or her name, and spoke briefly about their now-destroyed villages. Yes, the band played and teen-age yeshiva boys bused in to bring a bit of joy danced. We didn't. Children's rides had been set up on a basketball court. Vendors sold cotton candy, hot corn and hamburgers. An ice cream truck slowly prowled the area.
A festive evening forced upon us. We would have chosen a different way.
Morning, Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Independence Day, Nitzan
A morning visit from family. Moshe's brother, as adept at these things as Moshe isn't, fixed a dangling light fixture and replaced a broken drawer knob. We ate a fish lunch while the savory odor of grilled meat wafted in from neighboring barbecues, mangalim. After all, it is Yom Ha'Atzmaut. We refused to participate. Neighbors settle for the ubiquitous Independence Day mangal.
Afternoon, Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Independence Day, Lachish - A New Gush Katif
We drove to meet like-minded people in Lachish. Lachish is a magnificent region in the center of the country, almost devoid of Jewish settlement, within the Green Line, with gentle rolling hills and grape vineyards nestled in its valleys. (On your map of Israel, between Beit Shemesh and Kiryat Gat.) Here we will build our new home, a new N'vei Dekalim.
Several of the Gush Katif settlements have already moved into existing kibbutzim and moshavim to bolster their dwindling population. We - over a thousand cars from all over the country made the journey - were warmly welcomed by Danny Moravia, head of the Lachish Regional Council.
An explanation of the ancient history of Lachish was given. I had already "Googled" the region. A travel route between Egypt, Israel and Syria, Lachish abounds with archaeological artifacts in unexplored caves. The climate is temperate - low humidity, comfortable temperatures.
The Lachish plan is to build within the ecosystem. Homes, made of the indigenous materials of the region, will become part of the surrounding landscape. A planned spa includes Jewish spiritual nourishment while the body cures itself in the mineral waters to be found in the region.
The plans are there. The plans call for N'vei Dekalim to build on the hills and slopes of an area to be called Egoz. We are waiting for government approval.
I'm excited. To be part of this adventure to create a township from its inception is the stuff of life. An empty hill is to be transformed into a town - a wonderful town, a Jewish town - at one with the environment.
Someday, we will celebrate Yom Ha'Atzmaut with joy. It will be a celebration that we, the expelled Jews from Gush Katif, will initiate; not one that was forced upon us.