Day Nine - Finding the Hermon Field School

From the Sea of Galilee we headed north up Highway 90 to the most Northern part of Israel and to one of the areas of world controversy captured and retained in the 1967 War – the Golan Heights. Greater care appears to have been taken in planning the development of this area and the natural beauty of the mountains and valleys have been enhanced with wineries and Moshavs interspersed along the highway. An interesting mountain cut was made into undulating vegetated terraces one on top of another on either side of the roadway. A communication tower has cut out human shapes climbing the structure. Always a reminder of things past and present a bombed bus or truck will appear and are left in place as real danger still exists.

The area is less likely to be visited by tourists and consequently English signs begin to disappear unlike most of the rest of the country. We were headed to a Field School to spend the night near Mt. Hermon (or Khermon depending on the map). We called ahead to make sure they knew we were coming and got some quick instructions about turning right about 12 kilometers after Kiryat Shemona. It would have been helpful if they said turn right onto Highway 99 from 90 but the Hebrew/English communication left us with a simple turn right where the sign was. It does not take long to go too far in Israel and we found ourselves on the Lebanese border town of Metula having missed the turnoff. We called again. “You have gone too far!” the reception said. “Turn around and come back to the shopping center and turn left.” After several more missed directions we finally made it onto the correct road to Mt. Hermon.

After about 20 kilometers we came to “the sign” saying Hermon Field School and we turned up the mountain road and proceeded to pass Hebrew signs on our way to the end of the road and the gate to a Kibbutz. Entering the Kibbutz, a large cattle ranch, we drove around looking at the Hebrew signs hoping we could suddenly recall the meaning of words never learned by sounding out our elementary pronunciations of the Hebrew letters. Farm animals stared amusingly at us as we searched for human contact or signs of any kind in English or Hebrew we could understand. We found a group of soldiers and one knew a little English but had no idea what the Hermon Field School was. We found the grocery and the cashier also had no idea what we were talking about. She directed me to an office with a phone at the door and a phone number posted. I dialed the number and no one answered and I hung up. The phone rang and I picked it up. “You need to go back down the hill and turn left at the sign” the voice on the other end of the line said. Someone must have been keeping track of us. We finally made it to the gate of the Hermon Field School. Security gates are very common in Israel and the large metal gate opened and we drove in to find an expansive vista of the valley below and a setting of small bungalows. “The manager” greeted us and warmly wrapped his arm around my shoulders and said “you finally made it.”

Hermon Field School