Outside Kochav Ya'akov's Fence

In response to this problem, the young, passionate, and idealogical move specifically outside the fence's protection. One man started his catering business outside the fence, "Davka!" as they would say in Hebrew, specifically to make the point.

Catering trailers outside the fence.

The Jews aren't the only ones playing the settlement game. Since 1967, the Arab states have invested billions in building as much as possible to hold territory and block the expansion of Jewish communities. East of Kochav Ya'akov stands a fingerlet of mansions and apartment complexes. No cars, no carpets draped over the balconies, no children in the street, only silence. The entire complex stands starkly empty, built only as a place-holder.

Bottom left: Kochav Ya'akov Catering. Top right: The empty mansions of Al Amari.

Rabbi pulls me aside. "Look at that ridge line out there with the Arab housing." About three miles distant, random slapshod buildings arranged in no particular order, empty a mosque minaret.

"Yeah, I see it. That's Jaba," built on the ruins of the ancient Jewish city of Geva, fortified by King Solomon about 3,000 years ago.

"Look below slightly, and you'll see a little bit of Kochav Ya'akov."

Sure enough, a small trailer with a couple of olive trees rests in Jaba's shadow.

"He's a gardener, living with his sons. He's planted an olive orchard but it doesn't produce yet. You can make a good living with olive oil."



Trailers (bottom right) in the shadow of Jaba (above.)

Looking east, we spot Migron, about four miles distant, built by the next generation of settlers, the children of the original pioneers of the established communities.

Foreground: Kochav Ya'akov's rooftops. Background: Migron

And Migron will be our next stop.