At the Negev–by Kathleen Wilkinson

In the Negev
In the Negev

The Jewish Federation of Rochester sponsored an Israeli trip in February 2015. We had 67 people, half of us being first-timers. The following is my attempt to begin to understand.

It rained all but one day of the trip. Not steady, but enough to keep things damp. From Tel Aviv to Bahad Echad, where IDF officers are trained, then early evening spent in a Bedouin camp, minus camel rides (thank goodness) but yet again eating piles of delicious food. Well after dark, in the pouring rain, we arrived at the hotel at Mitzpe Ramon. We saw nothing but the hotel room that night.

In the morning – oh glory! The entire complex was built of blond stone, matching the landscape. We had sun in the morning, though the crater was filled with fog. As that dissipated the beauty all around us came into focus. Plain old rock? No – ribbons and spots of color varying from palest beige through gold and yellow to brown, strata revealing the incredibly ancient history of this unique place on planet Earth. A sense of a welcoming and enfolding emptiness.

Through the western Negev we drove to David Ben Gurion’s desert home. Such an air of peace among his simple rooms, where what mattered was not the interior but the beauty of the land beyond the walls. Many important talks were held here, which is belied by the simplicity of the place. Come sit on the veranda, have some tea, let us discuss the present and future of our country.

Our group visited the grave to lay a wreath and pray, but I stayed lower on the trail. I pay homage to those who made this land by being a part of the land. I dislike the formality of honoring the dead at a specific place.

To look out over the expanse of rock and small green plants and blue sky, see the tiny flowers just peeking out in the early spring sunshine, to visit with a new friend amid this unexpected peace – this is when I fell in love with the Negev.

the Negev
the Negev

Later I sat for a while in the hotel lounge taking in the colors of the rock – an unexpected stream of red meandering through the beiges and browns. There is a road going through the crater, and from up high I watched as tiny cars traversed the empty bowl, no indicator of a settlement at either end of the road so where are they going? I would have stopped and sat on the ground to express my need to be part of it.

I must return very soon, to strengthen my love and make memories to hold through time.