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Oliver Benjamin                            
similarities between Utopia and the place I now found myself were
striking.
Unfortunately, this modern-day utopia’s days were numbered.
Tantalized by the external lure of material wealth and greater
individual glory, kibbutz youth were now turning away in droves.
Many of the older folk blamed movies and television for this exodus.
But maybe it was also because kibbutzim were conceived during a
desperate time, when the state of Israel was still getting on its feet
and now that it was a firmly established presence, there was less
pressure for the Israelis to band together and develop the land. Plus,
global economics were making it increasingly necessary for societies
to move beyond agricultural production toward the industrial and
technological.
It seemed that this Utopia would live up to its name and become
once again an imagined state, replaced by merely another everyday
anyplace—albeit, a war-torn and embattled one.
Despite finding myself engaged in some unusually non-self-centered
ruminating, I would shortly find the rest of the world and its measly
problems the very least of my concerns.
“Rippy!” a voice frantic and coarse bellowed behind me,
interrupting my daydreaming about the plight of the western world.
I had been leaning on my broom, not sweeping, and was clearly about
to be admonished by what turned out to be Anat.
“Yes ma’am?” I froze in apprehension.
“Stop sweeping, I want to talk to you,” she said in an unusually
sweet tone. I obeyed immediately, which was easy since I hadn’t been
sweeping anyway.
“What is it Anat?” I asked, smiling politely.
“Jake, there’s something I want to give to you, would you please
come to my office?”
“Don’t you want me to finish sweeping the area first?” I offered
gallantly.
“No, Jake, don’t worry about that. Why don’t you just put the
broom down and come with me. I have something for you to see.”
Anat was being unusually kind, which surprised me. Usually she
was strictly business, as most of the Israelis were. Rarely did you hear
the words, “please,” “thank you,” “have a nice day,” or “sorry” tumble
out of an Israeli mouth. I had learned what the that young couple
meant when they said that nothing is rude in Israel. It’s not that they
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