Endings and Beginnings

I knew the visit would go quickly--too quickly. Here it was, Saturday afternoon, and Rotem and I would board the bus at 6:30 am the next morning. She would return to her Jerusalem high school, and I would join the Road Scholar program that would serve as the next part of the journey. It was decided even before my arrival that it would make sense for me to go via bus with Rotem rather than have Doobie and Betty drive me into the big city. When we arrived in Jerusalem, I quickly saw why, but that’s another story for another blog.

There was so much I’d wanted to see and do and people I wanted to meet while at Kibbutz Massada. One such was Stuart Rooney. I’d seen his comments on Betty’s Facebook posts and loved his acerbic sense of humor. Well, I did get to meet him, but only for a moment, and I couldn’t confess it to Betty until it became clear that an honest-go-goodness sit-down meeting wasn’t in the cards. Doobie had driven me out to Massada’s far borders, beyond the cemetery, beyond the banana fields, beyond the abandoned guard tower.

Banana fields covered by netting to keep the birds from destroying the crop

We went past an abandoned guard tower, a testament to improved relations between Kibbutz Massada and its Arab neighbors.

Abandoned guard tower, where Kibbutz Massada used
to keep watch on its Jordanian neighbors

In the distance Doobie pointed out the fields that lay across the border in Jordan.

The hills are the Golan Heights; the fields on its slopes are in Jordan.

On our way back, we saw a tractor approaching. It turned out to be Stuart Rooney taking a load of brush to the dump. We introduced ourselves and chatted for a couple of minutes. 

"Don't tell Betty we've met." Stuart extracted a promise from me since we still planned on a proper, formal meeting before my departure several days hence as we said our goodbyes to allow him to get back to work.

That meeting would never happen since Stuart got called away on a business trip to the United States. When it became clear that we weren't destined to meet formally, I finally confessed to Betty that Stuart and I had met--at the dump. I can't believe that Doobie and I were able to keep the secret as long as we did.

Betty and I did spend a delightful half hour or so with Stuart's other half, Orna, on Saturday late afternoon.  Orna is an accomplished painter and author, with a book about to be released, and I enjoyed looking at the paintings which adorned her walls. 

On our way back from Orna's, Betty suggested we dine at Massada's only restaurant, Fresca, an Italian bistro. We called Doobie and got him to join us. There we enjoyed the best pizza I have ever tasted. I am not a fan of pizza and won't normally eat it at home, but we opted for three separate varieties (they serve "personal" pizzas) and relished each one.

I loved Fresca's decor and tried to capture it with limited success.

Betty and Doobie at Fresca

Apparently I wasn't smart enough to be bothered turning on the flash!

Up against the (pallet) wall at Fresca

The most delicious pizza ever!

Pothos draped from a pallet hanging from the ceiling. Love this idea.

Back home, Betty pointed out a teapot in the front yard. 

"Do you remember this?"

"I sure do," I responded. We'd bought matching teapots in LA's Chinatown on one of our many adventures when Betty still lived in Pasadena. She'd brought hers to Israel. Mine has long since disappeared, although it just might reside at Nasreen's house, buried in a cupboard somewhere.

I'm not as young as I used to be (ha!) and can't match the hours Betty and I used to keep in our youth, where we'd stay up till 3 or 4 am each time we'd get together. 

That 6:30 am bus loomed large on the horizon, so we said our good nights about 11 pm, not wanting the morning to come.