The Desert

I don’t know what I thought a desert is. Perhaps, it is always as I now see it. Only I couldn’t conceive the extent of a desert’s ugliness. Lotan (Arava, Israel), perhaps, is the worst of all. I shudder to think something could be worse. Under the cover of darkness, I was spared a truly heartbreaking scene. The land is desolate harshness. The sky, without a fluffy cloud, tears my eyes. The sun, a constant scowling gaze moving across the horizon. A harsh accusation against the humans who have decided to encroach on her territory. The heat. Not much can be said about the heat. Personal experience is required to understand how truly awful it is. Shrubs (which have been, optimistically, called short trees), scant strong grass, and bamboo shoots protrude from an endless sea of white soft sand. The dust does not cling to your feet though. Or, years of walking on Juja soils have equipped me with the necessary soft and tall steps. The land, however, is not without character. Slightly beyond the brave manmade structures is a mountain range. It is stony and inviting. I have found myself thinking that I could brave the scorching sun to explore it. The grass is always greener on the other side.?

The people have been friendly. I couldn’t have asked for better hosts. Take Teddy, my manager, for example, he was with me when, under the cover of darkness, I was still under illusions of what a desert is. And when light came, and I understood what I have gotten myself into, he helped me make sense of my new world. Or the resident shopkeeper, epitomising why Israel is known as the land of shrewd businessmen and the start-up nation, took the effort to explain to a bunch of ignorant Kenyans how it is cost-saving to buy a 25kg bag of rice instead of 1kg. In a span of 20 minutes, we understood that Eilat, a town 50 kilometres away, is a tax-free zone (my poor Kenyan pockets jingle and tingle in celebration) and everything is substantially cheaper. I am smitten. Lotan is a place ripe for making great memories. There is a constant sense of community in this place. Both the Israeli and citizens from other nations feel like my family. Despite the significant presence of several language barriers, I feel profound belonging. And when the days get hotter and longer, the nights shorter, the sand in my eyes gritty, and the sand begin to stick to my feet, I know I will derive strength from this community.?

It is said the good things I am looking for exist in the realm beyond my comfort zone. In Israel, I hope to make a step towards these good things. Lotan emphasises the significance of the human desire to survive. His will to thrive, and if in the race for survival, he is required to conquer nature, the evidence that he can. Without being immersed in the context, it is impossible to appreciate the fragility and, at the same time, resilience these little pepper plants signify.?

In Israel, I have come to study agriculture with a vision to replicate the same in Kenya sometime at the end of my 11-month attachment. In addition to the aforementioned national mission for this program, I desire to discover how well my theoretical passion for agriculture translates when put under practice, and an uncompromising adversary, the Negev desert.?