“You can come for a week. A week is the minimum.”

“Okay,” I said reluctantly to the secretary on the other end at Neot Smadar, thinking to myself: how on earth am I going to survive a whole week in one place? I was at a serious crossroads in my life, 25 years old, with a career, a steady home, and a clear path ahead. I decided to stop everything to look for something new – something I felt was missing, something waiting to be discovered. I wanted to volunteer somewhere completely different from anything I had known, and a few friends had told me about the remote kibbutz of Neot Smadar. I decided to go for it, thinking I’d stay a week and then continue on my journey.

When I got off the bus on the Arava road, I started walking toward the kibbutz through an orchard of apple trees, the most beautiful trees I had ever seen, standing there in full bloom in the middle of the desert, when suddenly a man appeared with a smile and a hat, gesturing toward the entrance. Of course, I had arrived from the wrong direction.

The First Week

As I stepped into the kibbutz, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Although I had grown up in a small village and had seen other kibbutzim, this place felt like the most beautiful I had ever encountered: chamomile and rose flowers adorning the roads, strange and gorgeous trees, pink buildings, all blending in a surreal way with the desert earth. Everyone smiled at me, and everyone was kind.

During my first week, I volunteered in the kitchen and discovered something amazing. At the kibbutz, meals are eaten quietly and with such care, simple yet nourishing. On Shabbat, the dining hall transforms into a palace of abundance, a place for conversation and simple celebration, the table overflowing with the kibbutz’s own creations: cheeses, wines, fresh juices, and vegetables, everything local. My body thanked me; it was beyond precious to eat like this.

From there, I moved on to different experiences: pruning grapevines at sunset, harvesting dates, working in the incredible cheese lab, tending the vegetable garden, which was perhaps the most colorful garden I had ever seen, and everywhere the special spirit of the place was palpable. 

At night, I would wander to the art house just to play the piano or gaze at the intricate wood carvings. I helped in the winery and got very drunk in the process, stacked olives in tins in the packaging facility; it felt like I was learning rhythms and rituals. I shared a room with a wonderful French volunteer named Raphaëlle (who became my good friend; we even traveled to India together after our shared time). She was a goat shepherd on the kibbutz, returning each day with the scent of the herd, a smell I grew to love. A voice seemed to whisper everywhere I went: there is no other place like this in the world. Everything felt original, refreshing, and the approach to everyday life and tasks was remarkable.

Photo: Media neot, Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0

Our Own Microcosm

Kibbutzim, as a concept, are deeply ingrained in Israeli culture, and I personally hadn’t always connected with them. But Neot Smadar was different: it had a sense of art, discovery, and experimentation. Because everything is independent and locally made, it fosters a feeling of capability and curiosity: What else can we do? How else can we live together? I fell in love with that ethos. Eventually, I settled in the nursery, which I ended up running, and spent almost half a year with the youngest members of the kibbutz. There, too, the spirit of openness and innovation thrived; it was so special to take care of the seven angles I was lucky to love.

Two experiences will stay with me forever: the weekly volunteer gatherings around the bonfire, either on the cliff or among the trees, where we shared stories and experiences with depth and attention, conversations so profound they could still make me cry. And the lake, yes, the magical, man-made lake created by the kibbutz founders. I wandered there every day, thinking, reflecting, watching – its color will always echo within me. 

I stayed at Neot Smadar for six months instead of a week, and that says it all. The community continually reinvents the kibbutz, sustainability, and life in Israel. Like anywhere, there’s complexity and intrigue, but the intention is evident in every corner, and to me, it is beautiful – a commitment to continue exploring, learning, and creating.

Some facts you should know

Neot Smadar (Hebrew: נאות סמדר) is a kibbutz and community located in the Arava Desert in southern Israel, about 70 km north of Eilat. It was founded in 1989 by a group of friends from Jerusalem seeking a lifestyle centered on cooperation, creativity, and sustainability. The community combines organic agriculture, art, and tourism. Its vineyards grow Cabernet Sauvignon, Shiraz, Muscat Canelli, and Sauvignon Blanc in desert conditions, while the boutique winery produces natural, low-intervention wines. 

Neot Smadar also operates olive groves, goat dairies, and a café-restaurant serving vegetarian meals and selling the kibbutz’s products. An Art Center offers workshops in stained glass, ceramics, textiles, and metals, and its buildings employ eco-friendly design adapted to the desert environment. Recently, Neot Smadar was recognized as one of the UN World Tourism Organization’s “Best Tourism Villages,” highlighting its sustainability, cultural richness, and rural innovation.

Check out their website. And if you live in Israel or come around, do pay a visit to this magical place, even just once; it’s truly one of a kind.