L'chaim

Have you ever tasted asparagus straight from the ground? It's good. Ian picked both Hannah and I nice strong stalks of asparagus this morning. Ian is an earthy man. Over the last five weeks he's done this almost everyday. We'll be walking or talking and he'll just reach down and pluck something from the ground and tell me to taste it. He's given me earth fresh carrots, radishes, lettuce, arugula and numerous leaves of various varieties. Every time I pause as I did this morning with the asparagus, with the belief that everything I consume should be cleaned and processed. Then Ian bites in and I feel that it's okay to do the same. Every time I'm impressed by how delicious everything is. Straight from the ground.

At the end of every spike we have to put together a portfolio and a debrief presentation. The debrief presentation is a power point that we present as a team (in formal attire) to our region director and staff, summarizing our accomplishments over the last 6 weeks. The porfolio is a book we put together with the same purpose, but less formal and more personal. The portfolios are archived in this one room on campus with every porfolio from every project from every team in every class ever. They're more of a resource for future classes, kind of a legacy or a footprint.

Last week our next round project was finally revealed to us via Amelia's usual clues and scavenger hunt. That means the end is officailly here. This past weekend we compiled our power point presentation and wrote up the main components of our portfolio. That meant looking back on the last five weeks and reflecting. My reflection is as follows;

At some point this round our team started hooting to each other as a means of communication. One hoot means, “Hey, what’s up?” Two hoots mean, “I need help, come quick!” And three hoots mean that dinner is ready. One day Adeliah and I were on the farm feeding the chickens and somehow those feathered fiends pulled a Houdini and set themselves free. After more than half an hour of chasing 9 chickens around the farm, we only caught 5. With 4 chickens left running around we were zapped of all energy. I ran to the top of a hill and double-hooted at the top of my lungs. This was the first time anyone attempted to use the emergency hoot. I knew it wouldn’t work. It was cold and raining and Adeliah and I stared around at the remaining chickens, ready to accept defeat when BEHOLD! Not even ten minutes later and here comes all of Raven 4 headed our way. It was the middle of the work day and they all stopped whatever they were doing because they heard my hoot. Once the entire team was there running around together, laughing and strategizing it wasn’t so cold anymore. We caught those chickens that day. And the emergency hoot has not been needed since. Of all the fine things I’ve learned while on Kayam Farm my favorite lessons would have to include the Hebrew lessons. Also, I learned that we can live harmoniously with bugs. I learned that comfort is a state of mind. I learned to inoculate mushrooms. I learned how much different cultures have in common. I learned to plant and harvest. But the most meaningful lesson I’ve learned this round is if I hoot, my team will always be there.

Living and working on Kayam farm has been a golden experience. I dealt with sleeping in freezing weather, and I survived. I don't scream too loudly when I see a spider now. And I know how amazing things taste straight from the ground. I turned 23. I've begun learning how to cook. I discovered muscles that I didn't know I had. All the while we've transmformed this farm into a beautiful and productive establishment. At the same time I can feel myself transforming into something beautiful and productive as well.

Tonight we are holding our own seder in honor of our Jewish sponsors. Our theme was 'freedom', which is what Passover is all about after all. I have to admit, being here is the most free I've felt in my entire life. We won't be here to see the fruits of our labor but we know that the ripples of all we've done will spread wide. We each brought an item for the seder plate. I brought the robin's egg I found the other day. For me, that egg represents discovery. As we finish out our last week here at Kayam Farm I'm realizing exactly how free I am. And I'm very thankful for that freedom.

Cold Nights

The sound of Morgan breathing, Daniel’s fingers on his keyboard, and the soft hum of the refrigerator must be the most soothing combination on Earth. We’re two inches from midnight and we should all be in bed but this is rare, the room being this quiet. We’re all sitting silently, absorbed in whatever is happening on our individual computer screens. Daniel, Adeliah, Morgan and I. Everyone else has gone to bed.


We don’t look forward to bedtime. I put on almost all of the layers in my tiny wardrobe, including a black sweatshirt I bought from the dollar store as well as my hoodie, neck guard and gloves. I usually put my sleeping bag in the dryer before going to bed, so that when I lay down in it it’s nice and warm. I wrap up in one fleece blanket inside my sleeping bag and then I throw another one over me, outside of my sleeping bag. I only go to bed when I’m exhausted enough to fall asleep right away. But every night, like clockwork, I wake up around 2 or 3 AM. The bitter cold creeps inside my sleeping bag and I feel it in my toes, though I’m wearing two pairs of socks. I feel it in my legs, though I’m wearing two pairs of sweatpants. I feel it all over. Cold. The kind of cold that makes you feel wet. I try hard not to squirm because Adeliah, on the bottom bunk can feel the bed shake every time I move. All the other girls are probably awake too. None of us are used to sleeping in such cold temperatures. But we all just lay there in the dark, hopelessly desperate for a little unconsciousness. But it’s cold. Freezing cold. And you can hear every little breeze blowing outside the tent. Can you feel it too or is that your imagination? Eventually the sun will come up and I’ll rush off to take a hot shower to get my blood flowing. But for now, while the weather is cold, the nights here on Kayam Farm are long and unpleasant. We don’t look forward to going to bed. Until I’m exhausted enough, I’ll sit right here and listen to the soft hum of the refrigerator, Daniel’s fingers on his keyboard and Morgan breathing. It’s soothing.