Yesterday morning we began filming in the kitchen of the dining room. The chadar ochel, as it is called in hebrew, was an important element of kibbutz life. Kibbutzniks once ate every meal in the dining room, but now only lunch is provided. The single meal is a remnant of old kibbutz life that is on it’s last legs. The once bustling lunch hour now receives a fraction of the patrons that it did during its prime.
We interviewed Yoram, a kibbutznik who has worked as a cook in the kitchen for over twenty years. He was recently replaced as head chef by a younger man from Qiryat Shemona. We don’t know why his was replaced. The issue is sensitive, and Yoram chose not to discuss it. But throughout the interview, he alluded to it, saying that the new chef doesn’t know what he’s doing. Yoram said he didn’t give a “fuck” about what the new chef told him to do, and even yelled at him at one point. We don’t know exactly what he said because it was in Hebrew.
The head chef, when interviewed separately, cited the difficulties of working in the kibbutz. He said the workers in the kitchen are used to doing things their way, and that they often resist change. We felt compassion for both Yoram and the head chef, which helped us to recognize the importance of documenting all sides of the conflict.
We asked Yoram whether he thought the dining room would eventually close altogether. He shrugged and said that it was certainly a possibility. He added that the closing of the dining room would be a good thing because he would be able to open his own cafe. Just recently, some old chicken coops had been refurbished into retail spaces. An art gallery, a gourmet shop, and a home goods and jewelery store have already taken up residency there. While the success of these establishments is uncertain, they represent a move towards entrepreneurship. After asking Yoram why he just doesn’t open the cafe now, he responded, “Because I’m too much of a kibbutnik.”
The comment was poignant, and has helped lead us in a more refined direction for our documentary. While the kibbutz is changing, it seems that some of its inhabitants are not.
I like this pitch for the documentary- it truly brings up the question regarding whether our instinct is to be independent and do it our way- to be entrepreneurs.The thought of the resourcefulness of the kibbutzniks to take chicken coops and make them into businesses is fascinating. Not to condescend or diminish their goals, but it reminds me of our childhood dreams to be entrepreneurs at the neighborhood corner selling lemonade. My childhood friend, Michaela Devenish and I had a pot holder business. One year we bought looms and loops- the good kind- not the cheezy ones they sell now- and made hundreds- no exaggeration – of potholders. I like to think we were artists as we sorted all the garrish colors of the loops and made truly beautiful pot holders. This was back in the early sixties when things were “safe” for kids to go door to door. We actually rang doorbells and tried to sell our potholders. Some people were kind when these two sixth grade girls, a freckled Irish American and the other a curly black haired Italian American, approached them with their wares. I have to say – we sold most to our relatives. I don’t know if any of the potholders remain. We had such plans for that business.The business ineveitably died out. Perhaps, that is why I went into non-profit mental health. I digress – but the chicken coop image is priceless!!!
I may have missed this in an earlier post, but about how many inhabitants are there on this kibbutz? And what about nation wide?