Dganit (The double consonant name I still cannot pronounce)

By Tessa Moran

A couple of days ago we filmed Dganit. Her friend Noy was visiting from outside of the kibbutz and Dganit had planned to show her her new room. Teenagers can qualify to rent a private room in the kibbutz for a nominal fee. The rooms are small, but equipped with a kitchen and bathroom. Noy was impressed with the private space. Afterall, few other teenagers live on their own.

We next filmed the girls as they walked from the room to Dganit’s parent’s house, where Dganit said there is better air conditioning and a larger television. Dganit was wearing the wireless microphone and we were filming she and Noy from several feet behind. They spoke liberally with eachother, seemingly unconcerned with our presence. Perhaps it was because the camera wasn’t directly in their faces. As a result, we were able to film a very natural interaction between two average teenage girls. Although Dganit is shy, she does not deserve being treated as an outcast. But judgements in this community are sometimes unfair, and sadly lasting.

We spent the afternoon watching movies and chatting. We didn’t film the entirety of that time, but used it to build rapport with Dganit. We have found that the more we build trust with our characters, the more they open up. We are also able to explain our filming goals. Dganit told us that she was worried that she and Noy weren’t doing anything interesting for us to film. I tried to ease her concerns by explaining that our job is to film her life, including both the boring and the exciting moments. “But you are my guests!” she exclaimed. I told her that we are not her guests. While she should consider our relationship a friendship, our job is to document her life. She should consider us “flies on the wall,” I explained. I’m not sure if she fully understands our role, but hopefully my explanation helped.

We also filmed Dganit’s father, who kibbutz members criticize for being unemployed. He explained to us that he injured his shouder while serving in the army, and that he experiences severe pain while doing physical activity. He told us that he wants to work, but that the army won’t permit it for fear that his injury will be exacerbated and become more costly. Because his injury is not visible to others, it is easily judged as minimal and exaggerated. But the truth of this issue and others have become less clear the more we film, lost in the stories and gossip of this community. How to document the fuzzy reality is still unclear to us. The last scene of Dganit’s father is him sitting on the couch looking out the window longingly. “It will be okay, it will be okay,” he says. I held the camera for a couple minutes after he spoke. We didn’t ask anymore questions, just filmed his quiet reflection. It spoke volumes more than his interview.

We think Dganit is an interesting character. She is quiet, yet thoughtful when she speaks about her life.  She is about to embark on a big life change, but is seemingly uncertain about every little choice she makes. There is something about her that continues to intrigue us but capturing her full character on film continues to be difficult.