Israel

Friday, June 30

Oh, I know what you’re thinking. The life of an archaeology volunteer is surely filled with private jets, extravagant yachts, and luxury accommodations. Here’s my home for the next two weeks.

Yes, it’s modest, but I had hope for some privacy during the off hours. Here’s how my accommodations looked when I first walked in. 

My “room” consists of one bed, one electrical outlet, and lots of roommates. Here is the living room. I believe the decorator used a style called “socialism-chic.” 

So, where the heck am I? I’m staying in a kibbutz, the Israeli version of a commune. The idea has always been a good one: to build a community based on equality. Unlike other countries where communes didn’t succeed, over 250 of these are alive and well in Israel.  

It does have some advantages. We are close to the Sea of Galilee with palm trees and beautiful beaches. There's a fancy resort near by, so that's where the big money comes from.

I was introduced to my first roommate. He was a little older than me, and he promptly met all expectations.

“Where are you from?”
“Cincinnati.”
“Really? I’m from Dayton! Small world!”
“Dayton, huh? I went to Carroll High School. Where did you go?”
“Chaminade Julienne.”
“Oh, so we're rivals.” 

I traveled 6112 miles and 30 years from my high school, and I’m still a CJ Eagle! To make it even better, he’s going to introduce me to his priest friend. The two of them came together on an archaeological pilgrimage. Who knows? Maybe their parish needs technical support. If that’s the case, I can write off this whole trip as a sales call.

One final note: there’s no reason to worry about me. This is ominously waiting 50 feet away. 

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