Monday, 10 March 2014

Dear Diary...Saturday, 3rd February 1990. New year, new start. Healing wounds.

10.40pm, and for the first time in a very long time I'm feeling happy. 
I needed to get away from the airport and all it stands for - too many memories, too many mistakes.
I'm blocking it out and running away - back to Israel like a defective boomerang, but it's where I feel safe.
My emotional bolthole.

A new kibbutz on Wednesday, via Tel Aviv.

It wasn't a great start, as I arrived in the rain and it appeared to be a ghost town.
RAIN - I came to get away from rain!
How can it possibly rain so much???

A room of my own in Mexico City, but that first day...I've never seen such a quiet kibbutz.
Do people sleep all day?  I didn't met anyone at all till the dining room in the evening, but then I met some South Africans and a Danish girl called Trine, who seemed to have a thing about carrots and they were really friendly.

Yesterday I worked in the dining room and it was fantastic - I met so many people and today there was no work at all!
Which was probably just as well, as yesterday also involved a very drunk afternoon with Steve, Simon and a bottle of vodka, followed by the pub.

First impressions can be so wrong.
Thursday morning I was convinced it was all a mistake and was trying to phone Maabarot to blag my way back.
Now, I'm just glad I never got through.
And the beach - oh my goodness - the beach!
Went there with Brazil and Tokyo this afternoon, on the way back from Caesarea.
You can see the sun setting over the sea from the dining room.

And tomorrow - avocados.
I hate fieldwork but it doesn't look like I'll get out of this.
On Ginosar I only lasted two days in the bananas as I wasn't very good.
Oh, God!
What if it rains?
I've got nothing to wear!!!

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