So, I've arrived

Despite British Airways requesting I remove 3 pounds from my luggage because I exceeded capacity (70 lbs , I had 73), travels were uneventful.

Remember what I was saying to some of you about my initial travels would be a true test of Type A vs. Type B personalities. Well...I arrive at the Kibbutz Program Center in Tel Aviv with my Israeli friend Benny, who out of his good nature carries my 73 lb duffle bag up the 3 flights of stairs to the office (only to discover after, the

elevator - it really was in an obscure place). I sitdown with the Kibbutz Program Center woman who then asks me where I want to be, in her heavy Israeli accident. I tell her what area I am interested in - surrounding areas of Tel Aviv and Jeruselem (my reasoning is to be closer to family and friends) and she tells me "No". I grimace with confusion and she explains that there are no longer kibbutzime in these places. What I learn is that the Kibbutz principal (despite what the website tells you) and way of life is dying. For those in the urban surroundings, they have become urbanized themselves and no longer incorporate volunteerism into their means of labor, they have become there own corparations if you will. Those that are still in existance around these areas have a stricter age requirement of 25. Hmmm...nobody tells me these things???

The KPC woman (Kibbutz Program Center) asks me again, what and where do I want to do and go? I look at her and then look at Benny and shrug. Benny and the KPC woman then have extensive conversations in Hebrew, on my behalf. They are pointing at the map of Israel and shifting it back and forth to eachother, at this point, I have glazed over as if watching a ball in a tennis match. They narrow it down for me and explain the advantages to these certain Kibbutzime - despite that they are 2 hours North of Tel Aviv and Tel Aviv is 45 min outside of Jeruselem. The KPC woman begins to call these Kibbutzime to see if there is need/availability for me. Finally, she gets a hold of Ein Gev, where the KPC woman is now on the phone with the volunteer coordinater - she then enthusiastically turns to me and asks if I like babies? The color drains from my face, my mouth instantly dries and I seem absent of a voice. The KPC woman happily tells me there is a need in their Baby House. As she is talking to the KVC (Kibbutz Volunteer Coordinator), I look at Benny who then asks the KPC woman to hand him the phone. Another series of conversation persist in Hebrew, this time 3 ways between Benny, the KPC woman and the KVC. I am pretty stressed at this point, my alternatives are to work on a diary kibbutz - they get up at 4 am to milk cows (not so much) or get up less early and change diapers all day (again, not so much). Insert disclaimer - I like kids, even babies but I don't consider myself a "day care provider" He hands back the phone to the KPC woman, who continues to process me with the kibbutz, and Benny assures me that it is ok, there will be other opportunities for me there.

Benny takes me to the bus terminal in Tel Aviv, sees me to my bus, and I am now all set and off to the Golan Heights, Kibbutz Ein Gev also known as Ein Gev Holiday Village . It was about a 2-3 hour bus ride, where I am literally dropped off in the middle of a road at night, nothing to the right or left of me, but straight across the road is a tall gate that I am assuming is my destination -- I've arrived

I am greeted by Smadal, the kibbutz volunteer coordinator. She walks me around, introduces me to my fellow volunteers and reviews the essentials. As we get to the subject of my assignment, she sees the color remove from my face once again and speaks frankly to me. She explains, the only reason why I am here is because they need help in the Baby House and for me to be open. If I don't like it in a couple of weeks, I can leave the kibbutz, no problem. Being that my options are limited for cheap shelter, I swallow hard and agree to this arrangement.

I get one rest day before I begin work. I arrived at night and wake up to a cloudless, 70/80 degree day. I walk around and find I am surrounded by palm trees, mountains and can see the beautiful city of Tiberias from across the shoreline. I think to myself, ok, I can handle this, this could be worth my while. Maybe this is the Universe calling me to my nonexistant baby urges. Maybe I'll get over being annoyed by the excessive bodily secretions of infants and actually find myself cueing over them...Maybe...

That evening a British couple arrives and Smadal calls me into her office. Turns out the wife has child care experience and would prefer to work in the Baby House and would it be ok to switch jobs? I unabashedly say "yes!". My new job will now be laundry. As sad as it may seem, I joyfully take the job of Laundry over Baby House.