Holy friggin balls, I'm on a kibbutz.

(Written for Day One on the Kibbutz)

Oh Jesus. I’m in a prison.

No, maybe I’m just using hyperbole. Actually I’m just on a kibbutz.

Good news first: my roommate is Australian and very nice. If there’s any people I consider crazier than Israelis, it’s Australians, so that’s pretty cool. I’m already starting to accidentally talk in her accent when I respond to her, and it’s incredibly embarrassing.

What’s weird is that I made some passing silly reference to how the rest of the world thinks Americans are all fat, and she totally didn’t get it. She was like, “Americans are said to be fat?!” And she was dead serious. I was like, “Um, you didn’t get the memo from the rest of the international community?” She said something like, “No no no, you guys are supposed to be really good at history. You REALLY know your history!”

What??? Dude, I’m MUCH fatter than I am good at history!

(She later qualified her view of Americans with, “Well, actually you’re all quite clueless when it comes to international history, but your own…..you guys REALLY know it!” Which I guess is true. I’m crap at international history, besides basic Israeli history, but I know a shit ton about American history—although most Americans know more than me about American history.)


Okay, some bad news:

The beds here are basically metals frames with cardboard boxes for mattresses (not literally). We were given bedding, but it appears as though someone peed on my comforter several times in the not-so-distant past. At least I have a pillow—but I’m not sure I can legally call my pillow a pillow. It feels as though someone put a teddy bear in a sack and then sewed it up and called it a pillow. Have you ever cuddled with a teddy bear? It’s fantastic, isn’t it? Have you ever used a teddy bear as a fucking pillow though?

I also got some threads to wear for working on the kibbutz. I have several sweaters that look more appropriate for Alpine skiing than they do for working in an Israeli summer. But people are gonna be so jealous of my retro wardrobe from the 80’s. People are NOT gonna be jealous of my retro wardrobe that smells like pee. I have not one but TWO pairs of magenta pants (that smell like pee), and I have some serious Mom Jeans (that smell like pee). But the crown jewel of this entire collection is the small pair of spandex tie-dye leggings that I received (which also smell like pee). The comedic potential of these pants is incredible, and I cannot wait to wear them and watch as this tie-dyed spandex wonder struggles to contain my fat ass.

Apart from all that, I actually quite like this place. My room has an extra bed, so that’ll be nice if anyone wants to come visit—I hope when my American friends (or friends from any country for that matter) are in Israel, they will pay me a visit and sleep on my extra cardboard box. Consider this an open invitation, friends. And as a special bonus, I’ll let you try on the leggings.

There are very many Russians here, and there’s a girl from Chile. She speaks little English and little Hebrew, so my roommate keeps telling her to speak to me in Spanish because I frequently understand Spanish. So it’s been interesting… It must be so tough to be the only one here to speak a language. It might mean my Hebrew won’t improve as much, but at least if I ever really get tired of Hebrew, I can speak in my native language to my roommate (even if Australian English hardly qualifies as English!)

Aw eff, son…. It’s gonna be a long five months!