So I am here to write an apology, or because my anger with my world is brimming over, but more likely the second.
Perhaps my problem is that I have an overdeveloped aesthetic sense that gets too much emphasis in my daily dealings, but if this is what I choose, then I should choose a place that suits it. I have obviously chosen poorly.
So to my apology, I am sorry Yaniv that I did not ask you nicely to clean up the mess between our community building and the containers behind it. I am really sorry that I did not understand that your need to collect poiki wood and leave it where dozens of people pass a day somehow trumps certain people’s desire (or is it only mine) to see our community moving into a state of greater order. Moreover, I am sorry that I spent the time last year to clean up just that space and fill an entire dumpster with the waste that had accumulated there.
Now that I have started, I see that I am sorry for so much more than that. I am sorry I ever came to this hell. I am sorry that I didn’t spend more time to understand the Israeli mentalities before I chose to come here, the “it will be alright,” the “don’t be a sucker,” the idea of a “kitbag question,” the kibbutznik’s “I did (am doing) my assigned part, so leave me alone as to anything else.” I am sorry that I spent any of my time and money trying to make this place better ($6289 just to purchase the playground), and not understanding that this is what a regional authority is for, the authority that took down the swings and replaced them with an old tire. I am sorry that I forgot that people don’t value what they have not paid for. I am sorry that my temporary fix of the sink at the synagogue seems to have become a permanent fixture.
But perhaps it's more personal than that. Perhaps I am sorry that I ever believed there is something special in being Jewish, or that a Jewish community, kibbutz or state, with all its mitzvot and supposed striving for g-dliness, might somehow care more or differently. And perhaps that’s all it is. For all the people around me, I still feel alone, and if I am going to feel that way anyway, I might as well be somewhere that matches my aesthetic sense, as shallow as that may seem.