Shabbat, 13th August, 1983.

Since my last letter to you, absolutely nothing has changed regarding my room - maybe this week. "Savlanut" is something I've developed a lot of. (Patience.)

I've been in the dairy for a week now. I wouldn't say that I enjoy it exactly, but it's certainly not a bad job - as long as it's summer! Actually, to be honest, it's a lot better than my last job; I'm just afraid to admit that publicly in case they decide to keep me there. I'd still prefer to be out in the fields.

Last Friday night the kibbutzniks hired a boat on the Kinneret - the "Love Boat", they called it. It was a pleasure cruise with disco, booze, etc., which lasted from ten in the evening until about 2:30 in the morning. (I didn't go.) Anyhow, on Saturday morning I asked our illustrious friend Lazar how he enjoyed it. An expression of pure agony crossed his face.


"I've never been so bored in my life," he said. "It's bad enough I should live on a kibbutz with these people - with a fence around us - but to be cramped into a boat with the same people ....why do I do it? For four and a half hours! I've never been with my wife for such a long stretch since we've been married! Why? I mean, we went from one end of Kinneret to the other, then from one end of Kinneret to the other, then from one end to the other .....I mean, where can you go on Kinneret? And what can you see at night? It's crazy! I thought of sinking the boat at one stage - just for something to do - but then I thought that with all the beer we had on board, the Kinneret would probably overflow. You've never seen so much beer in your life!"


"So next year," I said, "you'll go out in your little U-boat and sink the "Love Boat" for your fun?"

"Oh, no," he groaned, "next year they'll do something really exciting. They'll hire a train and shunt us back and forth between Jerusalem and Tel-Aviv. Not a whole train, mind you, just two carriages."

Aside from that, not a hell of a lot has been happening. The Ulpan seems far away now (and my Hebrew still further) as I settle down to a routine of work, eat and sleep. In this heat I tend to pass out for two hours in the afternoon. It's nice to know what my job is without having to check the work sheets every night. The only unknown is which shift I'll be milking. Every night after supper (at about eight) we have a short "refet" (dairy) meeting to determine the next day's shifts.

I still get a hell of a kick out of riding my bicycle. It's really useful at the dairy, too - dashing over to put some calves back in, or to check something at one of the sheds. It's a treat not to have to walk everywhere.

Oh, one thing I found quite amusing. The Volunteers all went over to a neighbouring kibbutz the other night on an organized visit (to their pub). I had no intention of going with them, (I'm not a Volunteer now, so strictly speaking, I shouldn't have anyway), but the Volunteer leader insisted that I did. Why? Because she didn't trust the tractor driver! She wanted me to come in case he got drunk (another South African) so that I could drive the tractor and wagon home. There we were, going to a party, twenty or so Volunteers on the back of a wagon!

Anyway, Aubrey was almost sober enough to drive home, which was a blessing, because I'm not sure that I would have found my way through those banana plantations - they're really dark at night. He only went off the road once. Unfortunately, that once was while he was trying to avoid some irrigation sprayers in the fodder fields. We got well and truly soaked while he tried to get the tractor back on the road.

Well, folks, that's all for now. The life here takes a lot of beating - I've never felt better!