Working the Holy Land One Weed at a Time

Image by Flickr: raondo.com

By Andrew Udell August 15, 2011

While some high school juniors choose to spend their summers working at summer camps, attending college programs to boost their résumés, or simply hanging out to relax after a hectic and stressful year of hard work, I decided that I wanted to try something uniquely different from anything I had ever done. After a couple of plans fell through, a friend of mine (also named Andrew) and I chose to volunteer on a farm in Israel. Through the program WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms), we found Kibbutz Hokuk near the Sea of Galilee.

With hindsight, I guess one might say that I romanticized the idea quite a bit of working the land of Israel on a Kibbutz. However, it really did end up being a learning experience I will never forget. Prior to my experience in Israel, I had done some farming in Vermont, which I really enjoyed, but never anything like the journey I was about to embark on. In addition, I have really tried to eat consciously — whether that means eating locally or choosing to avoid eating meat on a regular basis — so, I thought that this would be a good opportunity to try something new and accomplish my goals of truly involving myself in the process of how food reaches my plate. Sounds like this would be a perfect fit for my summer, right? Wel … let’s just say it was a worthwhile experience that ended up being far more difficult than I expected.

After a long flight, my friend and I spent a night in Tel Aviv before heading out to the farm the next day. When we arrived at the farm, we helped to get rid of some of the weeds that were overwhelming the parsley and after, we were given a brief tour of the facilities. Shortly thereafter, the owners of the farm told us that they were not going to be there for the weekend, which meant we had the place to ourselves (along with one other middle-aged female volunteer). I was nearly as excited as I would have been if my parents gave me the same news because, at the time, we were pretty nervous — the place was pretty desolate, secluded, and kind of run down. For the next three days, while we were on our own, we cooked all of our meals with fresh produce from the farm, hiked in a nature reserve nearby, traveled to a watering hole, played chess, and otherwise just hung out. The first days were quite overwhelming, to be honest. It was the first time I had ever really traveled alone and, while I expected to meet a family and spend some time with them adjusting to a new lifestyle, I was forced to dive into this excursion headfirst.

Each morning we woke up around 4:45 AM and shortly thereafter we prepared for the day. We had a cup of Turkish coffee (which I really became slightly addicted to), and began working in the fields. Working the fields does not quite capture the work — a more apt description would be weeding the fields. Because it was an organic farm, no herbicides or pesticides were used (that can normally eliminate weeds), and I did not anticipate how much weeding would take place. We worked until about 10 AM everyday, at which point, two of the volunteers would go into the kitchen (in the main tent) and prepare a hearty breakfast, which usually included hummus, tahini, eggs, vegetables, and a cup of coffee (or two…). We would then continue to work until about 12 PM and then had the rest of the day for whatever we wanted to do. We traveled to Tzfat, Tiberias, and the Sea of Galilee in addition to hiking around the kibbutz and hanging out.

Having grown up in New York City, I found it difficult to truly connect to the process of food. I was certainly not very close to the farms where I was getting my food from and the concept of “farm to table” was difficult to fully comprehend. Working on a farm in Israel, or should I say weeding on a farm in Israel, was really tough work. We worked seven hours Sunday through Thursday in the treacherous heat. But, I was able to see the fruits of my labor every single meal. At home, I cook a meal or two every once in a while, but I certainly do not cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was really special to have that connection to what I was eating — being involved in the entire process manifested itself in every meal or snack I ate. When I now purchase organic or local foods from my CSA, I try to think about the effort required to produce vegetables and fruit. It is not that I thought that produce just magically ended up in supermarkets near my home; but, I was now able to take a glimpse into the process of food before it goes to the supermarket. It was meaningful for me to connect to where food comes from and my eyes were really opened to the arduous, yet rewarding, progression of how food ends up on my plate.

Andrew Udell is a high school student at the Abraham Joshua Heschel School in New York City. He is the founder of Veguary, an organization that raises awareness about the dangers of the modern meat industry.

I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s award-winning journalism this Passover.

In this age of misinformation, our work is needed like never before. We report on the news that matters most to American Jews, driven by truth, not ideology.

At a time when newsrooms are closing or cutting back, the Forward has removed its paywall. That means for the first time in our 126-year history, Forward journalism is free to everyone, everywhere. With an ongoing war, rising antisemitism, and a flood of disinformation that may affect the upcoming election, we believe that free and open access to Jewish journalism is imperative.

Readers like you make it all possible. Right now, we’re in the middle of our Passover Pledge Drive and we still need 300 people to step up and make a gift to sustain our trustworthy, independent journalism.

Make a gift of any size and become a Forward member today. You’ll support our mission to tell the American Jewish story fully and fairly.

— Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO