Lori’s Version (Part 1)

My morning assignment begins at 9:30 am in a building located less than 5 minutes from my newly constructed two story house. Somehow a garden is pushing through the sand which surrounds it, thanks again to Israeli ingenuity, know how and a determination to make things grow no matter what the challenge; in this case, desert. A formerly bare, sandy, open area where about a dozen homes now stand, each with their own flowering garden, mini porch and  front yard with a view not more than 10 meters away to yet more housing under construction, then lush forests and mountains in the distance. 

From 9:30 to 12:30 I help out with a group of severely autistic young adults, some so high on the autism scale that their day is not much more than standing statue-like in the same place for an hour at a time, only to shift to a sitting position thereafter for an equally long period of time, to others who spend a good part of the time asleep until snack time. At one point one of the educators approaches and communicates with a plasticized board showing photo ‘pictograms’ symbolizing said individual, and the various simplest of tasks of the day. Others, at higher functioning levels, assist daily in the making of bread, preparing the table, serving snacks, and tidying up. Some spend their time doing puzzles, drawing and colouring or occasionally singing songs or responding to questions similar to those you would ask a kindergarten group. This week being Chanukah, there is somewhat more excitement and animation than usual, as the holiday themes are integrated into the day’s activities.  One young man greets me the first day with ‘machar Chanukah’ (tomorrow is Chanukah) which he repeats to everyone throughout the morning. His greeting the following days is the equivalent of ‘Chanukah today’ followed by various phrases about lighting candles, eating ‘soufganiot’ or doughnuts, one of the traditional treats of the holiday, and spinning dreidels.

The expression heard most often throughout the morning however, is not one repeated by the attendees of the program, rather it is the educators frequently commending the participants on their accomplishments with a ‘Kol Hakavod’ (literally ‘with all honours’, but in this context the more casual ‘Good for you!’) no matter how small or how often they occur. 

The group, affectionately known as the ‘Chaverim’ or ‘Friends’, uses this kibbutz facility, kind of a meeting hall,

for the program five mornings a week. The non- profit organization, started by a group of parents, is based in Be’er Sheva, a 20 minute drive away, where the rest of the week is filled with a variety of learning activities both social and educational, held in various locations.

It doesn’t take more than a few days to begin to come to know each young adult from the other, as their distinct personalities, unique facial expressions and quirky behaviours emerge. Many have already endeared themselves to me: Uriah, mentioned above, perhaps the highest performing of the group, totally focussed on Chanukah who I will probably remember with fondness from now on everyone as Chanukah approaches, Sasha, of Russian origin, non verbal but communicative in his own way, whose eyes twinkle and smile lights up the room, Ruthie, who enters the building each morning with energy and confidence, as someone who knows her way around the room and is adept at all her tasks and responsibilities (the first to help with making challah, cleaning the table and dishes afterwards) and zooms through puzzles and colouring pictures almost quicker than they are set out or drawn for her. 

Next week’s assignment will take us to new accommodations in Be’er Sheva, where we will work at a youth centre for adolescents no longer attending school and in need of a safe place to spend time and perhaps learn some life skills, receive guidance re reintegrating the education system, or who simply need emotional support.

I am hoping that through my contacts in Montreal, including staff at Federation CJA who put our volunteer schedule and travel itinerary together for us, plus several contacts I have made over the years in the field of autism, I might be able to secure some additional expertise, teaching and educational supplies/ideas and/or funding to the organization that operates it. The current situation is one of needing to secure a long term location of their own for the program now being housed on the kibbutz.

Afternoons have been spent working with a kibbutznik named Merav who has also welcomed us into the home she shares with Lily and her two children Etamar and Mayan for several dinners and lunches when we have not been guests of other kibbutzniks or the farm owned by the father of her children and his partner, Ron. Complicated, I know. More on all of that in the next time, because I am now compelled to stop writing to take photos of the setting sun, magnificent pinks and purples filling the space above the rooftops and between the trees just beyond my doorstep.