By now he was beginning to feel empty. He was still unemployed and found that every day was the same routine. He didn't like it.
It was only then that his feelings towards the kibbutz surfaced. He realised he'd made a mistake in coming back to England. His work permit could possibly have been extended. He now felt just the same as he had a year and a half ago when he'd spent five months in England. He hardly saw any of his friends. None of them lived close enough to have true contact. He'd had a couple of all-nighters with his friend that had visited him in Israel. They'd watched videos and listened to music until almost 8am on both occassions. They were the oases in the desert that was his life. In his position he could understand the value of friendship. All his close friends were on the kibbutz and he wanted to be there but not as a transitory volunteer nor with just a work permit as both offered only limited stays. He wanted to live there. Actually make a home of the kibbutz.