The Amazing Arava
Right from our first venture into Israel in 1984, when we visited David as a student at Hebrew University, I was greatly impressed by what the Israelis had been able to do here in three and a half decades
and despite three Arab attempts to wipe them out. The Judean hillsides were green with hand-planted trees. The swamps of the coastal plains had been drained and transformed into productive vegetable fields. Old cities had grown and new ones had been established. Despite a killing inflation at that time, the country was growing and thriving.
Visiting David and his family each spring since their move here in the summer of 2003, our travels revealed new verdure and orchards and fields of plenty every time we left the house. And a world of commerce and industry that we did not see was humming out there, adding to a thriving national economy--again despite intafadas and suicide bombings and sadly unfulfilled negotiations by the Palestinians.
Each "Study Vacation" we've taken with AACI has enlarged our view of the country--an awesome richness of human and natural resources, of antiquities, of cultural venues.
And, just when I was fairly sure we'd seen most (or even all) of it, we went down to the central Arava valley for still more!
Begin with the word "moshav"- an agricultural co-operative of private farmers. Then picture five moshavim, each about 4 or 5 square miles in area and each moshav run by 120 families and about 700 Thai workers (who live with these families). You already know that this is desert land where only acacia trees and a few other extremely hardy plants (that can survive on 10" of winter rain) will grow. Take away that part of he desert gouged and ravined by flash floods, as well as the flood plain itself. What's left is hard-packed rocky clay that most roots cannot penetrate, so sand is imported (mostly from nearby Jordan) as a growing medium. Wells must be drilled to reach the plentiful water of deep ancient aquafers (150' to 3000' down), though the deeper water is hot and brackish and thus must be treated/cooled before it can be used for irrigation.
The endless rows of peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, and other vegetables are covered (like greenhouses) by mesh or plastic. Drip irrigation hoses bring nutrient-laden water right to the roots. The desert sun does its powerful magic, and there is lush production. Not only of vegetables but of vast acres of date palms, yielding some of he finest dates in the world.
Now consider this: these five moshavim produce 60-70% of Israel's agricultural exports. Truck farms are not meant to be beautiful. But these are mightily impressive! And in the desert, yet!
Alright, the farming in the desert thing is marvelous, but (they say) that's what the Israelis do--make the desert bloom, or become productive. So, let's look at some antiquities.
It seems that the Arava Valley goes back to biblical times (and earlier, if you remember the stone-age remains we saw last October in the southern Arava). Four or five spots in the southern Arava are mentioned in Exodus as places where the Children of Israel camped or found water. Here, on this trip, one special place at Moa in the central Arava was a fortification to protect the southeastern boundary of Judea against the Edomites (from what is now Jordan). This fortification was apparently enlarged several times during the period of "Kings" and down to the end of the Hesmonian monarchies, just before their conquest by the Babylonians in the 6th century BCE.
By the times of Greek and Roman conquest of this area, a thriving spice and incense trade had developed between the lower Arabian peninsula and the port of Gaza (thence by ship to Greece and Italy and later into Europe). The Nabateans, in the first century BCE rebuilt these fortifications into one of their way stations along this route. The Romans eventually took it over and added their (patented) bath houses. The last evidence of occupation is from the early Byzantine era (5th-6th centuries CE).
These remains are only partially excavated, revealing two or three levels of buildings. When and if further work is done, who knows what else may come to light.
The excavations are on three levels over several acres, comprised of waist and shoulder-high walls--perimeter and gate, dwellings, baths, etc. In comparison to the fully exposed ruins we saw a year ago in the north these look a little crude. But these, along with Megido and a very few others (outside of Jerusalem), offer a glimpse into more than a thousand years of history.
On the previous day, we saw another structure of the Nabateans (mentioned above). These were an especially interesting (and mysterious) people. They are thought to have been nomadic tribes from the Arabian and Jordanian deserts, with no written documentation, but with distinctive pottery, some of it ass thin as eggshell porcelain. They first appear in the first century BCE as possible creators of the fabled spice and incense route. The apparently were able to maintain way stations in the brutally dry desert by means of water storage and basic farming at these way stations, methods that have died with them. The Nabateans, as a distinct culture, vanish in the 8th century CE, apparently absorbed by the spread of Islam.
Another part of our tour was strictly for the birds--Arabian Babblers, to be precise (no joke). One of the Moshavim has a bird sanctuary, partly for the benefit of migrating birds (over a million each year traveling from Africa to Europe), and partly as a research facility. Dr. Ronnie Ostreicher guided us for some two hours in an area inhabited by 7 Arabian Babblers (there can be as many as 24 in a social group). For two hours, we learned from him watched them and fed them a little. For the food (Dr. Ostereicher has earned their trust with food and proximity), they hopped around within a few yards of us--a little nervous, to be sure, but more like pigeons in the park than birds in the wild!
That was not the last surprise awaiting us in the central Arava Valley. We visited an antelope farm. And why would anyone think to set up such a thing in the barren desert? In this case, there are several reasons. First, the dozen or so animals represented here, most from the African veldt-a dozen species of antelope and the wild ass-- plus the Barbary sheep, are either endangered or actually on the edge of extinction. So, the owner is breeding them here for zoos and for return to the wild. As his venture here grows, he hopes to ultimately have a "safari" type of experience for Israelis to enjoy.
As a side venture, he is also breeding Langastinos (or crayfish)
for food and research. Apparently, Israeli scientists, studying the way these shell fish regenerate broken off body parts, are close to developing a technique for regenerating knee socket tissue that has been damaged by arthritis--without surgery.
Probably the least expected enterprise here in the desert, however, (at least for me), was the crocodile farm. Yes, a very determined woman, with the help of her husband, built several cement and rock pools on a few acres of this otherwise unused landscape. That, she said, was the hard part
. For a few years, now, they have collected adult Nile crocs--10' - 15', long, cold-blooded, and very nasty. They then set about breeding them and incubating the eggs artificially (thus doubling the survival rate) and caring for the hatchlings, further increasing the survival rate (compared to that in the wild).
Why? Again, the two main purposes are to restock the severely diminishing wild stock in Egypt (poaching, which is hard to control, threatens the Nile croc with extinction) and selling them to zoos around the world. In addition, some precious belly hide is sold for shoes and handbags, and the meat is also in demand by gourmets (?). They can produce 1,000 baby crocs a year now; they aim for an annual production of 5,000.
This latest wonderful trip was a kind of send off as we head back to the US on March 18th. During this winter here, we have finished our apartment ("!!!) and made contact with some old friends: most recently with Al Bogorad whom we haven't seen since our New Paltz days 30 years ago. Bea and Maury Friedman spent a weekend with us on the way to see their son in the southern Arava. And, back in late December, we went to dinner twice with Joyce and Brooks Colburn (from Westport) who were here on a tour.
A very fine stay it has been. As Porky Pig used to say, "That's All, Folks
!" (until this coming October, at least).