For the past five weeks, my daily life on Kibbutz Ketura feels like an odd version of summer camp meets socialism. First and foremost, the kibbutz has everything a village and/or a camp needs: a dining hall, a library, a secondhand store, a community center, a soccer field, a pool, horseback riding stables, a coffee shop, a pre-school, and a store that sells the basic necessities. The kibbutz even runs a communal laundry, meaning I separate my laundry by color, place it in different chutes and hope that I receive it back in a few days. There is really no need to ever leave the kibbutz; everything is taken care of here in this little desert oasis.
Kibbutzim, which are small, cooperative communities of about a few hundred members, were first created in Israel in the early twentieth century before the founding of the state of Israel. Kibbutzim offered the opportunities for new immigrants to put their socialist and Zionist ideals into action: through collective hard work, kibbutz members made the desert bloom. Traditionally, kibbutzim were based on agriculture, though modern kibbutzim have diversified their economies. Today, 270 kibbutzim exist in Israel, although some kibbutzim are more privatized than others.
Kibbutz Ketura was founded in 1973 by 30 graduates from the Young Judea youth movement. Today there are 150 members, many of whom immigrated from other countries, as well as 200 children, Israeli volunteers on a year-of-service, and about 50 students at the Arava Institute. The kibbutz is a special place religiously in Israel. It is a traditional, egalitarian, and pluralistic kibbutz, meaning both observant and non-observant Jews live together. The kibbutz holds services every Friday night and Saturday morning, some of which I have attended.
The kibbutz has a diverse economy, and unlike other kibbutzim, it has not privatized. The Kibbutz grows Medjool and Deglet Noor dates, which are native to the region. The Kibbutz has an algae factory and is also home to the Arava Power Company. (The Arava Power Company installed a 4.95 MW of solar field on the kibbutz and manages 120 MW of solar energy throughout Israel.) Of course, the Kibbutz hosts the Arava Institute and runs short-term environmental educational programs.
Kibbutz members work either at one of the kibbutz “industries” or support the daily operations, such as managing the kibbutz store, sorting everyone’s laundry, cooking the food in the dining hall, or managing the kibbutz’s guesthouse. Nobody is paid directly for their work. The kibbutz council allocates salaries, and some members may receive more than other members depending upon how much revenue they bring into the kibbutz. All kibbutz members share cars and a credit card. It is a common sight to see kibbutz members walking bare foot in the dining hall or even throughout the entire kibbutz. In a sense, the whole kibbutz is one large home.
The kibbutz is also like one big family. Last night, the kibbutz held a wedding for a member’s daughter. The kibbutz provided 30,000 shekels and a venue for the wedding. Everyone at the kibbutz was invited, even though none of the Arava students and interns had ever met the bride and groom before. The night before the wedding, the entire kibbutz convened to set up the wedding. We moved tables from the dining hall outside, set up chairs, and arranged centerpieces. The next evening was a great night of dressing up (though Israelis are very casual in their dress—yes, there were people wearing flip-flops and shorts to the wedding), eating good food, and dancing.
From my eyes, the kibbutz seems like a wonderful place to grow up and retire. Kids can roam freely, play outside, breathe fresh desert air, and easily convene with nature. Neighbors know one another and are friends, in most cases. Life is easy here, and older residents have the support from younger residents.
For myself, I have to separate my good short-term experience with the realities of living here. “Summer camp” is fun, but after a while I miss the bustle of a city. I cannot get a Mexican or Thai meal when I feel like it. I am not always meeting new people. I can’t go to events happening around a city. These are sacrifices that I can make for a fun, short-term experience, but in the long run, I need bustle and variety in my life. I can still take the lessons learned from the kibbutz into my life: I want to find a strong community and to live in a location that is easily accessible to nature. I just will not be a kibbutznik. No bare feet for me.
