Page 13 - Issue 30

7 years ago I was just a
bright-eyed Workshop
chanicha, thrilled to be
spending a year in Israel with
friends before jumping
straight into my first year of
university. My messima on
Workshop involved traveling
to and from my kommuna in
Akko in the afternoons to play with chanichim in a
youth moadon called Beit Hatziruim, located in Haifa’s
Hadar neighborhood. Although I barely spoke Hebrew
and often felt clueless as to what I was meant to be
doing, I enjoyed running around the park playing
tofeset or trading English words for Hebrew words with
chanichim eager to show off their English skills. After
Workshop ended and I returned to the United States, I
continued to think about Beit Hatziurim from time to
time. Who were the chanichim who were currently
there? What were the chanichim who aged out of Beit
Hatziurim up to now? Were the same brown leather
couches still sitting in a circle in the corner? Did the
rooms still smell like mildew and ‘mitz petel?’ When I
made Aliyah this past Spring, it was a no-brainer for
me to consider messima at Beit Hatziruim again - this
time as an olah.

By the time I began at Beit Hatziruim, the tzevet was
already planning and recruiting for the “Kayetzet” in
July. The Kayetzet was essentially a day camp. It ran
every day from 1 pm to 6 pm for three weeks. There
were four kvutzot - two for Kita "ד", one for "ה", and one
for "ו". Every day the peilut looked different. Some days
there were peilut at Beit Hatziurim, such as ‘Yom