Travel Biography - Week 53.

Arrival at Stella Carmel Christian Guesthouse and Conference Centre.

The few photos from the 1994 trip aren't available at the moment.

Back in 1994, who would ever think that I would "work abroad" - an ideal reserved for gap-year students or highly skilled workers. But for Israel in 1994, I was not allowed to use the word "work" when filling in any legal forms or to Passport Control. Instead, I'm to present myself as a volunteer. In-group, I was known as a "volly" (plural: "vollies.")

On the first day after arrival at Stella Carmel, I was given a day off, as was the custom for all new arrivals. That day, I spent at Haifa, and I climbed up Mt Carmel to get a splendid view of the city sloping down to the harbour. On the hill, below me, was the temple of Bahai with its surrounding gardens. The whole site looked beautiful under the Mediterranean sunshine.

I was impressed with the city but it still doesn't hold a candle to Jerusalem, where my heart really was. Yet, to me, I felt it to be a wonderful privilege just to be in Israel, therefore I would never consider looking down my nose at any location here in the Holy Land - unless I happen to be up the slopes of Mount Carmel, as was the case this time.

The Gardens of Bahai, Haifa. Stock photo.

Daily Life as a Volunteer.

Stella Carmel was a former hotel converted into a Christian guesthouse and Conference Centre. Located on the summit of Mt Carmel, it's in the small town of Isfya, not far from Haifa. With its two floors, its 16 bedrooms received groups rather than individuals or families, although an occasional family did arrive from time to time, the centre catered mainly for groups. There were no double beds at the Centre, just single or twin beds. The eight upper-floor bedroom windows opened out onto a wide veranda offering a splendid view of the village. This veranda, special occasions, such as weddings, were held here.

Among the eight bedrooms on the lower floor, these were separated by a wide corridor from the combined dining room and lounge. From the main entrance, one passes the Reception to the right, and the kitchen to the left, its access to the dining room. The tables and chairs in the dining room were arranged in a long row, thus ensuring inclusion for all, staff and vollies alike. However, midway through the corridor was the self-service tea buffet, which anyone could use. For me, a regular mug of tea was most refreshing in the hot June weather. And I always recall the protest I once made to Margaret the cook when she chided me about the tea mugs.

It's not my fault that those tea mugs seem to love my bedroom! They keep finding their own way there!

But the cook didn't believe me, and I wondered if she thought I was joking or being serious.

Regular day groups assemble in the lounge. On Fridays, a small group of Christian Druze Arabs meet in the lounge for their weekly church service. Among them were two teenagers who were close friends, and their homes were near to each other. They were Rami and Nadal. Nadal was a fun-loving extrovert who, on one occasion, accidentally broke a window pane whilst messing around with a couple of our members. Rami took life more seriously. Of all the people there, Rami had a special respect for me, and I would never forget one evening when he was troubled, he singled me out for prayer with him. The fact that he went away edified and encouraged had always been one of my life's brighter moments.

On Saturday mornings, a much larger crowd gathered in the lounge for their weekly service. These were members of the Kehilat Ha-Carmel Congregation, a group consisting of Messianic Jews, some from Russia, along with some Arabs and Europeans. As far as I recall, I was the only volunteer who attended the service, including listening to the sermon first delivered in English, then, line by line, translated into Hebrew by one of the assistants who also stood in front, next to the preacher.

On Sunday morning was our own Christian service which was held in an upstairs chapel, designated for us only - the staff and volunteers of Stella Carmel, although any guest wishing to join would have always felt welcomed.

Part of Stella Carmel, taken 2000.

Each volunteer had to work six days a week with a mandatory day off, normally between Monday to Friday. Saturday was the busiest day of the week, with a cleaning programme carried out before the start and after the end of the Kehilat service, along with putting out and stacking away the chairs. On Sunday, after the service had ended, we all had to play a role in general house cleaning, including sweeping and polishing the floor tiles. After all that, it was our Sunday treat, a trip to Dado Beach, south of Haifa, in our van driven by one of our staff members or a senior volunteer.

A typical weekday always began with a Bible reading in the chapel. Every volunteer was assigned a morning to read the Bible and deliver a short speech to all staff and volunteers. Every few days, my turn came up. Then we filed down for breakfast.

The day's duties were split into two rotas, house and maintenance. House duties included making up the beds, including a change of sheets and towels, the laundry, cleaning toilets and washbasins, and sweeping and polishing the floor on both levels. Traditionally, the females were assigned house duties whilst the males were given heavier outside jobs and repair duties, including shifting heavy boulders as part of landscaping. With a paintbrush, even facelifting jobs were included in the maintenance rota, a duty I particularly enjoyed. It's also worth noting that our boss Peter didn't verbally tell us what to do. Rather, a daily rota notice was posted on the kitchen door. On it, each of our names was assigned to a rota, along with who will be leading the morning Bible reading, who will wash the pots and dishes after breakfast, lunch and dinner, (by hand) and who is off duty that day.

There were two married couples on site, the manager or director and his wife, and two elderly volunteers. The rest of us were all single. Heather took care of Reception. She was the one responsible for taking group bookings and assigning dates of accommodation availability. She was also responsible for the centre's finances. Margaret was the cook, and on a typical day, a volunteer of either gender was assigned to assist, although she refused to have me assist her. Patricia was the head of all domestic duties, and she hadn't been around that long, as she recently replaced her predecessor who was transferred by the committee of ITAC to the London office. Aside from Peter the director, the only male staff member was Andrew, head of maintenance, whose West Country cider-producing vocal accent stood him in good stead.

The volunteers consisted of five males and six females. Among us, there was one married man, David. Then there was Trevor, a fellow in his forties. And graduates Scott and Richard, both on a gap year. It was posh Richard who shared my bedroom while right next door, Trevor shared his bedroom with Scott. Except for David's wife, all the female vollies were of graduate age, with one prominent character, Josephine, or Jo for short, as a strong-willed but fun-loving self-made group leader and a staunch feminist who loved using the phrase the New Man to mean that we males should be more domestic-minded and having less of a masculine front.

There were also two guard dogs whose shared kennel was between the centre's main entrance and the volunteer's accommodation building, separate from the centre, and itself relatively new. Every volunteer was given a turn to feed the dogs first thing in the morning. I too had my turn. 

The volunteer's accommodation block had its own kitchen, a TV room and a lounge combined, the two male bedrooms on one side of the lounge, and female bedrooms on the other side. At the door leading to their bedrooms from the lounge was a notice written in bold, To the Airport. This puzzled me at first before I learned that any liaison between a male and a female volunteer resulted in instant dismissal, and the offender was booked on the next flight out of Israel.  

The centre had its own van. This had a combined use of bringing in stock every week and conveying us as passengers, especially on our weekly trip to the beach. Of the volunteers, only David and Trevor were allowed to drive it, along with Margaret, and Peter, our boss.

During the week, every volunteer has a day off. Although allowed to remain at the centre, the off-duty volunteer was encouraged to go out and either explore or engage in some leisure activity. With eleven volunteers, on each day, at least two vollies had a day off, a male and a female. On one day, three of us shared the day off. But on each of my off-duty days, I always went out on my own. Directly outside the main gate, there was a stopping point for the local sherut. A sherut is a communal taxi, unique to Israel, where the driver waits until the car fills up with passengers. Then each of us pays a small fee (ten shekels) to be taken to central Haifa. A short walk to the bus station, and it's off to Tiberias, either for a swim in the Sea of Galilee, or to hire a bicycle and do some local exploration.

On one occasion, I hired a bicycle from a hotel in Tiberias and cycled clockwise the entire 64.5 km, or 40-mile route encircling the Sea of Galilee. This was quite a challenge, especially for the first few miles northwards out of Tiberias, where I rode over hilly terrain. However, by the time I arrived at Capernaum, the terrain was reasonably flat and offered some fast riding. En Gev, a kibbutz on the east side of the lake, was a welcome stop. Also, thanks to the 1967 Six-Day War, when the Golan Heights fell into Israeli hands from the Syrians, such a ride as this was made possible. Otherwise, I would have been stopped at the border of Syria just a few miles east of Capernaum, and be forced to turn back. Before 1967, virtually the whole of the eastern coast of the lake was in Syria.

A view of Isfya from a volunteer's bedroom, 2000.

On another day off, after arriving at Haifa by sherut, I boarded a bus to Acre, a Mediterranean port north of Haifa. I then found myself walking through the Old City, with narrow souks resembling those of the Old City of Jerusalem. But with Acre, one of its perimeter walls was lapped by the sea directly below where I was standing. The site featured a tunnel which looked a little like Hezekiah's Tunnel in Jerusalem, only that this one was much shorter, and it was dry, but I still enjoyed walking through it.

Acre was the most northerly venue I had visited in Israel, and putting it all together, up to 1994, Masada, near the tip of the Dead Sea, was the most southerly point I ever visited. Between 1976 and 1994, I visited Masada, the Dead Sea, Hebron, Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Nazareth, Tiberias, En Gev and Capernaum of the Sea of Galilee, Haifa, and finally, Acre. Thus, it was Trevor who referred to me as a man of Israel. Although I never got to know the travel background of either volunteers or staff, chances were that for them, this was their first visit to the Holy Land, and centred their stay around ITAC, opening the possibility that I have seen more of Israel by 1994 than the rest of the team.

However, Acre wasn't a big town. After seeing the most interesting parts, I walked south to one of the bathing beaches, relaxed and swam in the sea. To the south, Mt Carmel dominated the horizon and I could even make out the village of Isfya on its summit.

Eventually, as evening was drawing near, I boarded an Egged bus at a bus stop near the beach and headed back to Haifa, where a sherut for Isfya awaited.

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Next Week: How did Israel in 1994 end up as a disaster?