Finding Fulfillment: A Mission to Clean Up the Golan Heights

Endless rolling hills, refreshing swimming holes, ancient volcanic geology, and centuries of history. The Golan Heights is a stunning breath away from the hustle and bustle of Israel’s center, and a place I am lucky to call home. While my family has been settling into our new house on Kibbutz Kfar Haruv, I have been exploring the southern Golan and embarking on as many hiking trails as I can. Though I am thrilled to report back with sights of impressive basalt columns and towering waterfalls, I am also saddened by the sheer amount of garbage on every trail. In fact, Israel’s trash problem is prevalent throughout the entire country. Highways are lined with plastic bags and bottles. Hikers leave tissue alongside the path. People go to beautiful places like streams and beaches for a picnic, but fail to pack everything out. Despite the numerous difficulties of living here, citizens take immense pride in the land of Israel. If we care so much about our homeland, why is there so much litter left on the ground? Who and what could work to fix this pressing issue? 

Occasionally, I struggle with my family’s move from Fresno, California, to Israel. My parents had thought of making this move for as long as I can remember, but we felt extremely impassioned to make it happen after October 7th, 2023. While we have no other family in California and barely any emotional ties to Fresno, our cousins, history, culture, and hearts are in Israel. My parents and I can agree that we have always felt an unrelenting whisper that we should be in Israel. So this past summer, they finally made the move while I am finishing up three more years at UCSB. The truth is that my family’s move defies logic. Reestablishing life on the opposite side of the globe is expensive and complicated. Life was easy and comfortable in Fresno, but what we lacked was fulfillment. Lately, I have been questioning the notion of fulfillment and what makes me feel fulfilled. I’ve found that simply being here is not enough, and that I need to take part in something. In the words of my father, “we moved here to contribute to the goodness of this country.”

As I am only here for three weeks this winter break, it starts with the little things. Nahal El-Al is a breathtaking six-mile loop, about a ten-minute drive from my house. I hiked the trail frequently over the summer, especially to take a dip in the swimming hole underneath the White Waterfall. During one of my visits, a backpacker informed me that the water was extremely polluted due to litter and drought. It was true, I was swimming with plastic bottles and other garbage disintegrating on the pool floor. Both disheartened and disgusted, I promised myself to do something about it the next time I was there. I am proud to say that I fulfilled my promise, and recently hit the trail with a large garbage bag in hand. It’s about a mile walk descending into a canyon before reaching the White Waterfall. I decided to hike all the way down to the waterfall and pick up garbage in and around the pool before heading back up, collecting trash along the trail as I went. My heart sank as I realized the task could be endless. So much litter was stuck in thick branches, poorly hidden under rocks, or had rolled down the steep edge of the trail. It was too much for one person to pick up in one day. Although I did not get to everything, I do feel that I helped make a difference. I thoroughly cleaned up the area surrounding the waterfall, where hikers stop to enjoy the view, have a picnic, and go for a swim. I also picked up all of the trash directly on the trail and caught in the shrubbery surrounding it. I don’t know if it will remain litter-free, but hopefully, I inspired those visiting that day to pack out any garbage they created. A few added to my garbage bag, and told me toda lach and kol ha kavod. I also predict that if people don’t see any litter surrounding them during their visit to the waterfall, they’d be less emboldened to leave their trash there. Hauling a full, tearing garbage bag back up the canyon was certainly not fun, but I am so glad it is how I spent one of my days here.

I finally reached the top of the trail, tossed the bag in a dumpster, and headed to the car. Two people who had seen me on the trail requested a ride to their neighborhood nearby. The hitchhikers asked me questions about my stay in the Golan and why I came to clean the trail. I told them that I cared about the place, and I wanted to help make it better for both hikers and wildlife. They asked if I also pick up garbage in California. While I have volunteered for a few organized programs, I have never taken the initiative to organize my own event or go out to do it by myself. California is still another home to me, with landscapes that I adore and ecosystems that require protecting. I currently have so many questions about what I’m passionate about, what I want to do in the future, and what fulfills me. Realistically, I’m not going to be picking up trash every time I hike, but doing it made me feel really good, and I want to do it more often both in California and in Israel. I also wonder if I could get friends, or even strangers, to join me. Picking up trash is such a simple task that makes a notable difference. I am excited to contribute to the goodness of Israel by continuing to clean up the Golan Heights, one trail at a time, as well as eager to see what could happen with the help of more hands. I am proud to have noticed that Israel is becoming more aware of its trash problem, adding an abundance of trash cans in cities and towns, as well as laws and fines that help prevent littering. I am also aware that there are programs to clean up more populated places like Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. However, I haven’t heard of operations like this in the Golan Heights, and it would be so incredible to establish something here. The Golan Heights contains some of the best nature that Israel has to offer. If we don’t work to protect the places we cherish, who will?