Three quarters of the kibbutz is off camping this weekend at the foot of Mt. Ranier. I am home because I'm working this weekend, and two of my three housemates are home, so it doesn't feel too empty here in Gimmel. Tonight, we had a storytelling night, bolstered by homemade gazpacho, takeout pizza and lemonade splashed with gin. We - the four of us - took turns telling stories, generally unscripted, all somewhat enlightening. Stories about being on drugs, stories about finding humanity on a hitchhiking trip, bungee jumping in South Africa...even my story about Charlotte on the train. Later, we migrate to the (cooler) basement of house Aleph, switch from gin and lemonade to rum and coke, talk about kibbutz business and our love lives. Me and three men, laughing and yakking until midnight.
Also, some gratuitous photos, of the house I used to live in (house Bet.) No shots of Gimmel up yet.
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