Page 21 - Issue 8
P. 21
Sounds Good
by James Grant-Rosenhead, Kvutsat Yovel
Friday night. Shabbat shalom. Outside
it is dark, but our machaneh is lit up.
The moon is shining bright and stars
are twinkling in the clear night sky.
The warm yellow light of the bonfire is
reflected in the faces of our kvutsa
members, who are sitting around it in a
circle. Uri’s homemade cable of light
bulbs is hanging from a tree, powered
by the battery of the Renault Kangoo
from our kibbutz car pool.
I am lying on my back inside our tent,
listening to the sounds of our tiyul Kvutsat Yovel on Tiyul, October 2008. (Clockwise from left: Jon,
campsite: Emma, Kinneret, Inbal, Gil, Anton, Emily, Robin & Abe)
Nearest, I can hear the music which Jon and Dawit are playing on their mobile phones in the
adjacent tent. Our adopted boys are listening to music from Eritrea, from where they fled,
leaving behind their friends and families, in order to avoid fifty years of compulsory military
service. After walking and hitchhiking across Sudan and Egypt, they have found temporary
refuge with us here in Israel;
Behind them and to my left, I can hear the constant sound of running water – the trickling of
the stream as it flows onwards into the Jordan river;
To my right, above the crackling of burning wood on the fire, I can hear my chevrai kvutsa,
energetically singing songs from the shiron, accompanied by the strumming of an acoustic
guitar;
Jackals are howling in the near distance, but their cries are drowned out by the laughter of our
children, the discussions of my wife and kvutsa mates, and the music around our medura;
And it occurs to me, whilst lying here, that these are the sounds of my life.
Sounds good.