Day 4: When I woke up all the other beds were empty, so I assumed it was late.
He was wrong, it wasn�t, so he met up with Ingrid and went to the Project 67 offices, whatever they are.
They sorted him out with a kibbutz and placement, so presumably, they�re something to do with that. He said his goodbyes to Ingrid, and got in a bus back to the central station.
When he got to the kibbutz, he met Roy - a dominating Mel Smith lookalike from London�s West End - who was presently the longest serving volunteer at Kibbutz Yad Hanna. He also met L.J. (Little Johnny), Una (shaven-headed Irish girl), Elsrey (non-descript South African girl), Carol (genuinely friendly Korean), Carina and Nicola (South African�s with a penchant for Vodka), and Nicola (German).
The barracks were okay, very basic, with a distance problem with regard to the toilets; something of a problem given Carl�s stomach�s reaction to Thai food. Carl shared with L.J., who frequently disappeared off the face of the Earth for no doubt a comedy reason that I can�t quite think up at this point.
A strange omen upon Carl�s arrival was the re-opening of a closed-for-refurbishment pub, after three months. There was going to be a huge party, but it turned into a low-key affair following the death of a complete stranger. Ironic, then, that this "low-key affair" turned into a really good night, with Carl and a 9-year-old lad the only ones left standing in a game called Killer.
Day 5: Roy woke up and startled me.
After nearly missing lunch, Carl�s first day at work was the day off, naturally. Carl made the mistake of accepting Thai food made from homegrown chili peppers, and went to bed. The strange sensations then started, as did the first of his three days of "Thai Botty".
After peeling all the potatoes in the world, he set about peeling approximately 300 million onions, started to feel a fever coming on, and went to bed.
Day 7: After a good night's sleep, my head still hurt a bit
He went to work but around lunch-time, could barely move his head for the pain. The nurse revealed his temperature to be high, and began worrying, since it was his head, and she reckoned your head was a fairly important part of your body. It was time to see the Doctor.
He had an inflamation at the base of the skull caused by a fever and a chill wind to the neck. Tablets, cream, and three days off was the prescription.
Day 10: I have been on the kibbutz for nearly a week.
From what people were saying he was supposed to be bored, but wasn�t. Every day something happened, which was quite a stretch from the Groundhog Days of Apollo.
He went into some town (Nantanya?) with a couple of girls and bought some crepe paper and two coconuts - a far cry indeed from changing a backup tape and then trying to drag out eight hours in an office.
Day 11: Another lie-in thanks to my compulsory day off.
He spent the day making a �grass� skirt from the crepe paper, as it was the last say of some festival (Purim?) with the highlight being an infrequent fancy dress party. This was Friday 13th March, so whilst Carl was engineering breasts from a coconut, Andrew was suffering in London.
The fancy dress party was excellent, with Carl unleashing his outfit on unsuspecting volunteers to much a hoot and a whistle. That was the start, apparently, of a great night with much beer, dance, and laughter. Carl didn�t win the bottle of wine for the best outfit, though. No, that went to Roy, who went as a scarecrow, and not as Mel Smith, which he probably would�ve won with, too.
Day 12: Didn't wake up until 12:40. was late.
Carl managed his first visit to a beach so far in his trip. Erm, next day...
Day 13: I had to be at the point for collection at 5.45 because the chicken pens are about 10 minutes drive from the kibbutz.
Unfortunately, Carl was assigned to a chicken farm, which is not exactly a laugh a minute when you have a phobia of birds. As Carl found out.
There were eight pens crammed with about 8,000 chickens, and his job was to walk amongst them armed only with a stick with an orange bin-liner on the end to collect the eggs. His phobia is mainly regarding birds flapping around his head, and knew that he�d lose it if it happened. One went flying into his chest, and I dare say he could�ve done with dropping a few friends off at the pool.
The next job was to wash the eggs, which he spent as much time as possible doing, for fear of being sent back on the front line.
Day 14 : Woke up in a semi-doze. Chickens again.
The daily routine of keeping birds out of his hair continued - something of a throw-back from Carl�s English nightclub days. Collecting eggs, washing them, and picking up dead chickens were today�s tasks.
At tea-time, the volunteers all found out what jobs they had the next day. Carl�s boss for the chicken work, Adam, said that they probably wouldn�t need him the next day, but he wasn�t counting his chickens...
[slump]
Day 15 : Chickens wasn�t quite as bad today.
He�d mastered his technique, although when walking the chickens followed him around, catching up with him and pecking his boots. Er...
Day 16 : Today I was off the chickens.
Carl was odd job bob-a-job Bob (he does odd jobs for the odd bob) today, fixing, painting, sweeping, etc.
And that�s about it, really.