Tel Dan: Day Five: Reflections

 

Why did I enroll in an archeological dig that demands such physical stress in the dust and heat? Was I trying to re-live a fantasy to be a 23 year old again? To show myself I still had it, and to indulge in an adventure?

I certainly learned that I do not have the strength and stamina to match those in their teens or twenties who could work longer, harder, and better than I could. Nor did I attend every lecture; I dallied for a week and most would stay a month. I was here to have an experience, most were here as part of their career development or to complete an advanced educational degree.

However, I did experience something on this dig as part of the archeological community that was different than the other segments of my Israel journey. I wanted to have activity in a community that would awake me physically, spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, and communally. Tel Dan did that for me. But what affected me the most was not the archeology itself, but the community of fellowship that came together in this endeavor of higher purpose that was larger than the task at hand. We were Jews, Moslems, and Christians who lived, ate, worked, played, and conversed together. We modeled a community in this setting that we will each take back to with us, having been changed in the process.

A Shangri-La it was not. I have been told that by the fourth week when the comity and novelty wears off, the people become exhausted and irritable. This week, the first time laundry was collected for washing it was all mixed together and everyone has to sort through the clothes to select what they think is theirs. One person concerned for getting back his own clothes said. “Well, this may become an excuse for shopping.” Internet was promised on arrival and still has not been set up after a week of threats and pleading…on and on. But as Hal our area group leader said to us, “The first day of the dig is the closest I come to heaven.”

My friend Ali Ayoud, Chairman of the Israeli Arab scouts, told me an Arab folklore story that captures the spirit I felt in this place with these people.

An old man is dying and asks his son to fulfill his last request. He should go to every village and build a home. The son takes the financial inheritance, and starts to build a house in every village, but he begins to run out of money. Discouraged that he cannot fulfill his father’s request he sits forlorn on a bench, when an old man sees him and asks why he is so sad. The son tells the old man the story and is surprised when the old man starts to laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” asks the son. The old man says he is not mocking him, but says you did not understand your father’s request. When he said to build a home in each village he did not mean to build houses. What he wanted is that you should make a friend in each place you go, so that you are at home in every place you go. 

Perhaps that story best expresses how I feel about what we did at Tel Dan. In addition to our collective effort to reveal some of the history of this land and to increase our individual knowledge, we have made many homes with each other. Perhaps it will have some long-term effect on ourselves, our loved ones, and the communities we return to, having encountered one another.