The very first month my husband and I arrived in Israel in 1972, we were bussed from our language center, Ulpan Ben Yehuda in Netanya, some five hours to the northern border to Kibbutz Baram, along with our entire Hebrew class of newcomers, in order to see the daughter of our teacher get married. In true kibbutz fashion, there were several couples marrrying at once so there would be a manifold joy for the kibbutz and all the families involved and no doubt less strain on the kibbutz budget. The bus ride was so long that when we arrived and I saw the brides walking around outside on the green lawns in lovely white dresses, and the grooms in their casual opennecked white short-sleeved shirts, I was sure tht we had missed the entire event. After all, the food was all set out and everyone was milling around eating and greeting each other; only the music and dancing had not begun. Later I realized that the idea of a reception apparently was not relegated to the end of the ceremony. And I learned that buses sent to central places in the city to bring family and friends are a feature of bridging the literal distances between cityfolk and kibbutz life.