A Wall of Light - Edeet Ravel [6]
The wind is now blowing more powerfully, and it whispers loudly, like a thousand lips shushing high up in the sky, as it sifts through the Poinciana, eucalyptus, and pepper trees. The moon shines down on a piece of wall, a burnt-out house, a pile of rubble, a tile floor without walls and ceiling. In the weaving moonlight one can almost see the ghosts of the spirited life that flourished here.
I am thinking of the deserted village of Eldar, which we entered so proudly and energetically this morning, and the lives of the Arabs who lived here. I wandered through some of the hovels, looked at the overturned jugs, grain, books, baby shoes, and smelled the smell of destruction. Are we also destroying, pillaging, being cruel in this ancient land, with our ideals and our refusals to stoop to the world’s rottenness? Perhaps. We have moved into Eldar; it is ours; we are responsible for our acts, even though we are bound under the direction and discipline of our Movement. But do we have an alternative? Can we step aside, refuse to be morally sullied by Eldar and demand some other section of our Homeland on which to build our homes? I do not think so.
We are not responsible for this cruel and forced contradiction; we would prefer to disown it if we could; we bear no hatred towards the Arab workers and peasants.
But we have been forced into a position where we must fight for our lives and the lives of our people, and today life is largely determined by frontiers, and frontiers must be defended no matter what the price. We do not have the right to shunt this moral and political responsibility off on others. The kibbutz that we build at Eldar will be dedicated not only to the renaissance of our own people, but to mankind and the future of mankind. And this includes our Arab neighbours.
Dori
We have two bedrooms. I’m in the one with Skye and Elan and Simon.
My bed is next to the wall between the bedrooms. Right where Lulu’s bed is on the other side.
Elan is in the corner after me and Simon is in the corner after Elan and Skye is in the corner near the door. When the door opens Shoshana can’t see Skye right away. If Skye is sitting up in bed she has time to get under the blanket.
We take our pyjamas out of our drawer. In Canada people keep their pyjamas squished up under their pillow but Pioneers don’t have pillows. We’re supposed to fold our pyjamas but I don’t know why. I understand about the pillows but not the folding. We don’t need pillows. But pyjamas are just for sleeping in. Who cares if they’re squished?
We get into bed and Shoshana says goodnight. This could be a bad part but it’s not so bad for me because I’m waiting for my goodnight kiss. We’re not supposed to talk. If we talk Shoshana might come back and get mad.
One of the rhymes I like is Who Keeps Barking All the Time—
Who keeps barking all the time?
It’s that little dog of mine.
He guards us with all his might
Good night, he says. Sleep tight.
What I really love is the picture that goes with that rhyme. It’s a picture of a Children’s House in another kibbutz. The children there are luckier than us. They’re allowed to get up and go to the window. Their Minder isn’t Shoshana. And they have a dog. No wonder they’re happy. I love the aqua in that picture. Aqua is my favourite colour.
Except for Friday we’re not even allowed to talk after Shoshana leaves. If she comes back and finds us talking we’ll be in trouble. Sometimes we take a chance but not tonight. Tonight no one has anything to say and it’s quiet. There’s a potty in the middle of the room in case someone has to pee. Elan sometimes pees in his sleep. He can’t help it.
It’s dark outside and very quiet. We can hear the jackals in the mountains. I love that sound. Ah-woooooooo. Jackals don’t like humans but they’re too far to reach us. Just like the Enemy. The Enemy is dangerous no matter what but most animals won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. Unless they’re hungry and you’re the only food.