As this year’s date harvest finally ended, work in the dates now shifted to preparing the trees for the next years harvest. We now started to prune the trees, work on the irrigation system, and fold the endless bags that once covered the date of the last harvest. Medjool dates needed bags placed over them because when the dates were ripe, they would dislodge and fall to the ground. The bags prevented any dates from being wasted. They also kept away hungry birds, insects, and any other creature that would climb thirty feet to enjoy such a morsel. Deglet noor dates, even when ripe, would stay in place, on the trees, so they needed no bags. This meant that we had about 24,000 of those darned bags to fold.
We had been folding bags all morning, and the day was moving quite slowly. I really disliked folding bags. At least we were listening to an Israeli radio station playing the hippest in Israeli rock. Suddenly Racheal came up to us and spread some bad news. A particular species of fruit fly had crossed borders from Egypt and the darned pests were munching melon profits. The Israeli Ministry of Agriculture was encouraging melon farmers to spray pesticides chemicals onto their crops in an attempt to thwart the menacing fruit flies. I looked beyond the date trees and into the melon fields beyond. I sure hoped that they wouldn’t spray chemicals on those melons. We kept working that day, and nothing happened.
The next day, we were folding bags again, and suddenly a plane started flying right above. It was equipped and was preparing to spray deadly chemicals onto the adjacent melon fields. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Here I was, this pro-organic, anti-pesticide person. I was working 50+ hours per week for this community, and they were spraying toxic, probably banned in the U.S., pesticides in the field right next to us. I couldn’t believe the irresponsibility of not warning us, especially on a kibbutz with an environmental program!
This event turned out to be the most frustrating event of my kibbutz experience. I became extremely upset over the whole situation. My previous research on pesticide use had shown me nothing but negative results regarding pesticides. Spraying of pesticides might temporarily kill pests, but they also chronically poison humans, other animals, the water supply, and the soil. Also, pests eventually build up resistance to pesticides, requiring even stronger doses to kill them. Basically, pesticide use was unsustainable, and if the kibbutz were to survive, it should at least practice as sustainable methods as possible. I knew that the kibbutz also knew this information, for they had an institute geared toward studying environmentalism. I guess they were ignoring their own words of wisdom.
I didn’t quite know what to do. At first I was going to leave the kibbutz. I told the work coordinator that I was packing my bags and that I should be replaced with another person. I sat down and thought about the situation, and mumbled words of guidance for myself. “Don’t leave the kibbutz Brian, that would be quite premature, and rather un-community studies of you.”
I took several deep breaths and decided to stay on Kibbutz Arava. Since there were many alleged environmentalists here, I knew that there must have been other people who were as concerned as I was about the spraying of pesticide on our kibbutz. To my relief, the next morning, I found a petition, written in Hebrew and English, condemning the spraying of pesticides, and the lack of warning to workers in the fields. The petition was posted by a woman on the kibbutz named Ellen Soleman. I singed the petition, quite proudly, and then sought out to find Ellen. I wanted to discuss with her the events that had happened.
I met Ellen the next night in the kibbutz library. She had told me that it wasn’t usually crowded in the library and I could talk with her as long as I needed. I looked about the room and saw rows and rows of books, many written in Hebrew, and some in English. Most had an aged look to them. Ellen and I talked for several hours in what not only turned out to be an inspiring discussion about pesticides, but also became an informing talk about Ellen’s goal of helping Kibbutz Arava to become a sustainable agricultural community.
Ellen had a deep lineage in agriculture. Her grandfather and great uncles all worked in agriculture, as did her father; and you could say that growing food was in her blood. Ellen continued her family’s tradition: she received her B.A. in gardening; a masters in desert landscaping; and a Ph.D in land reclamation. Ellen became an expert in sustainable agriculture. Her years of higher education allowed her to become conscious of issues that her elder family members had missed. Ellen became aware of the tragic and degrading effects caused by the usage of chemical pesticides and fertilizers in modern day commercial agribusiness.
Ellen described the downward spiral caused by the current unsustainable, commercial agriculture industry in California. “Californian farmers have been practicing a poor land ethic with regards to ecology. They are not practicing sustainable methods. They are using the most destructive chemical pesticides and fertilizers available. I have seen the “end", and I want NO part of it. This “end" is a food and water base that is so poisoned from use chemical pesticides and fertilizers, that people are afraid to eat and drink, for fear of poisoning. I have seen people who have worked in commercial, chemical agriculture their whole lives. Those people are chronically poisoned. I call them the “Walking Death.”
Ellen wanted to do things differently. She moved to Israel to check out the kibbutz. She wanted to practice sustainable agriculture and felt the kibbutz would be a good place to achieve her dreams. Ellen heard of the young Kibbutz Arava. Her knowledge of desert plants and land reclamation made Kibbutz Arava an ideal place for her work. In 1974, Ellen traveled to Kibbutz Arava and decided to stay. Within a year she married one of the founding members, and has lived there ever since.
Ellen arrived to Kibbutz Arava in 1974. She remembered the landscape of the young kibbutz. “There were only 13 trees here, none taller than me (5'5"), and all were sick." Ellen’s previous experience with agriculture made her a valuable addition to the young and barren kibbutz. She instantly went to work planting trees and making kids. Ellen helped to plant the date orchards in 1975, and practically planted half of the 2800 date trees found there.
Ellen helped Kibbutz Arava attain an agriculture base by following a plan which she helped to set up. She described the goals of the plan. “When I arrived to Kibbutz Arava, our first aim was to start a commercial agriculture base. We started by planting the date orchard. Our second aim was to broaden our agriculture base by beginning other sectors of agriculture. We planted new crops such as citrus and mangoes groves. Our third aim, and my personal goal, was to adapt new crops to the arid and saline environments found in the Arava region. By domesticating crops to these environments, we could increase our agricultural and economic bases.”
Ellen continued. “This third aim of our agricultural plan takes place in the experimental orchards. This is where I work. If you walk just north of the date orchard you will find the 20 acre experimental orchards. Currently, fifty or so types of organic citrus are grown there, including pamalites, mandritess, pameloes, and blood oranges. We also have pomegranate, and a variety of nut trees. Our most successful venture, so far has, been growing pitaya. The pitaya is a cactus that produces a most succulent and tasty fruit. The pitaya cactus is a wonderful commercial crop for this region because it doesn’t require much water, can handle saline conditions, and has a high wholesale and retail value. The fruit currently sell for 15 shekels a piece, so they are quite cost worthy to grow. We have just started a large branch of the pitaya, branching off from the original experimental garden which we started several years back. It seems like a promising venture. Other crops I am trying to adapt are the spiny argon, merula, and cactus apples.”
Ellen continued by explaining the ecology of her work. “In the experimental orchard, we try to set examples of adhering to a good land ethic. We are utilizing very little water, and have zero water runoff. We are not destroying the land by using pesticides and fertilizers. We are not contributing to greenhouse gasses by operating heavy machines.”
I asked Ellen about the melon sector of the kibbutz. I couldn’t understand how the sustainable experimental orchards could exist side by side with the pesticide residue melons. Her response was quite simple. “On kibbutz, we have different businesses. Each are run by different people with their own ethics regarding farming. Unfortunately, the people running the melons feel that we are making more money by practicing these non-sustainable methods, such as using pesticides. I hope they become more aware, because all that we are donig by using all these pesticides is creating stronger bugs. In addition, the soil where the melons grow will become so saline from years of pesticide and fertilizer use, that we will be able to grow nothing there. There what will we do?”
Ellen then aswered her own question. “I decided to take initiative. I have started a committee which will address the issues of sustainability. At the meeting there will be one person present from each branch of our agriculture. In addition, there will be an expert on pesticide use and a health official present. We will discuss ending the use of most pesticides on this kibbutz. I would like to ban indiscriminate aerial spraying, such as what happened a few days ago. This is not a developing country. People won’t starve if we don’t use as much chemicals. After all, if we produce food that we are afraid to eat, then why produce food?”
Ellen was the leading organic farmer on Arava and a special woman. She was the tree woman. Our inspirational conversation lasted several hours. I thanked Ellen and walked back to my room. A half moon lit the sky. It was getting late, and I would need to get up at 5:00 the next morning.
Next chapter: Some final words...