The future is still in the fog - and we must be creative, open our minds and understand that when there is no choice, it is possible otherwise • Vered Ben Saadon on the shaky year
Vered Ben Saadon
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PR
Monday, six in the morning, wakes up to the sound of the alarm clock.
Dressing, heels, makeup, preparing myself for a day full of masculine style conversation with men of all kinds.
Today is the day I go out into the field, feel the pulse and see what’s new out there, what works and what needs to change.
Get in the car and gallop towards the parking lot at the train station in Rosh HaAyin, camp and join our dedicated area agent.
Such a day is especially challenging because on this day I change language and speak masculine.
Breathing deeply, entering a first date.
The guy in front of me is used to such meetings, wants to start working.
The price is high and he wants a discount, but I'm mine: "The product is good, we worked hard on it. There are no discounts."
For all the articles in the Women's Day project in the food section of "Israel Today"
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Orna Raskin: "A woman should be responsible for her fate"
Kramer Pages: "Women's Day - Who Needs You Anyway ?!"
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So far everything is as usual.
That's how it is business.
But then he took out the doomsday weapon: "Listen, I do not know how to do business with a woman."
No no, I answered.
That's not going to change, we'll meet next year.
A year passed and the story repeated itself - word for word.
I stayed on my own: "As you can see, nothing has changed. We already talked about it last year."
He obviously did not remember.
Since another year has passed, the wines have been sold online, and what about me?
I'm the same woman, a little more tired.
I went through a shaky year full of uncertainty, where even when the workers were in the cell and the visitor center bled. I insisted on coming every morning, wearing make-up and heels. I left the music on, the tune must go on.
Last March I posted a painful post in which I wrote about how I was afraid of losing the business we had built, personally and myself, in hard work for 25 years - manual labor day and night, from scratch and without means.
After the wedding, when I was 18 in the middle of twelfth grade and at the height of matriculation, and packed after paratroop service - we moved to Mount Gerizim because we wanted to settle the country. We planted grape vineyards and waited endlessly for four years until we could sell the first grapes.
After an exciting vineyard desecration ceremony, we sold the grapes to one of the largest wineries in the country - and they made fine wine from it.
Three years later we decided to try our luck and open a winery, to try to produce wine on our own.
No experience, no money, with two babies.
Hard years, no indulgences, with hard work, farming and believing in the righteousness of the way.
The effort and faith led to the first wine winning the first medal, one of many.
I stopped counting a long time ago.
Today we produce 100,000 bottles a year, 40% of which we export to the US, Europe and more recently to the UAE. The visitor center is still deserted, and we are waiting for the sky to open.
The future is still shrouded in mist, who knows what a day child.
The closures and procedures leave us no choice, and we must be creative, open our minds, be brave and understand that when there is no choice it is possible otherwise.
And perhaps precisely out of the complexity and difficulty we will find the middle way, the one that will lead us to a balance between what is desired and what is present, between dream and reality.
I can not wait.