Unlike their friends at neighboring kibbutzim, who have been singing the economic blues, members of Kfar Aza express confidence, maybe even a bit of boastfulness, about the way their kibbutz has adjusted to international capitalism.

And why not? Kafrit International, a manufacturer of compounds and additives for the plastics industry, has been such a success that it is buying up factories in Europe and developing a new non-Israeli brand name, Plasteam, to identify it for international investors.

Kafrit purchased the Constab Additive Polymers plants in Ruethen, Germany, and in Portsmouth, Great Britain, then obtained two production lines of a related company, Silon, in Sezimovo Usti, Czech Republic.

"We're looking for other properties as well," reported David Goldstein, the company's financial manager.

Last year, the company reported grossing $45 million, and it has estimated that its sales volume will nearly double to $80 million this year as a result of its acquisitions, Goldstein said.

Purchasing European properties was "very important for two reasons," Goldstein said. "The market in Israel is limited, with no growth potential. The only way to grow was to go outside. Raw materials in Israel have to be imported. It takes four to six weeks to import them. If the customers needed our products right away, we couldn't get them any faster unless we had
plants in Europe."

Kafrit, which means "villages" in Hebrew, is considering going "big city" with the corporate-sounding Plasteam group name. The strategy enables the German, British and Czech acquisitions to keep their old and well-respected names, all the while building awareness for the group name.

Conducting a tour of the Kafrit factory, Goldstein said 80 percent of the shares of the publicly-traded company are owned by the kibbutz and that half of the factory's 160 workers are kibbutz members. Altogether, the kibbutz has 300 members, with another 500 people living within the kibbutz boundaries.

You won't find any Kafrit products on the shelves of a store, because the factory deals strictly in "middle stage" products, usually in the form of plastic pellets.

"Nothing we produce is a final product; it is either a compound or an additive" used by manufacturers of such end-stage products as plastic sheeting, windows, shoes, coverings and signs.

A lot of the equipment within the factory looks like what you might see in an end-stage factory— extruders, for example— but Goldstein said they are there only for purposes of quality control. It's important to know that the compounds and additives produced by Kafrit can do the job expected of them.

So, how does having — dare we say it — a "capitalistic" team running a factory on a socialistic kibbutz make life different?

Dudi Doron, another of the factory's high-ranking managers as well as a kibbutz member, states proudly that youngsters are coming back to live at Kfar Aza instead of fleeing it as they do other kibbutzim.

"The main thing for the community is if you are not changing, you will stay behind," he said. "Mefalsim (a neighboring kibbutz) thought everything would be okay, but people found after the (agricultural price) crisis, there are no pensions, no social security."

Yoam "Dobush" Cohen, a journalist and kibbutz member, said compared to other kibbutzim in the Sha'ar Hanegev region, "we have many cars for members to use, to go to the cinema or to visit relatives."

Ziv Mazliach, the kibbutz's general secretary, contended "we provide a better education and make life easier for our members. When our students go to a university, Kfar Aza pays."

"Our community life is on a very high level," Cohen said. "An Israeli goes to New York and wants to know the news from Israel. If he is from Kfar Aza, he will want to know first what happened in Kfar Aza. Even people who leave the community for one reason or another want to stay on our newspaper list."

Outlooks were not always so optimistic. The name of the kibbutz means "Gaza Village" because it is located just on the Israeli side of the border with the Gaza Strip. The settlement began under the name of Yagev ("Farmland") in 1951, and hard times resulted in its abandonment for half a year. After being reconstructed, it looked as if it might be abandoned again in 1955 and
1956. People were recruited from other kibbutzim from around the country to keep the strategically placed kibbutz in operation. Today, Kfar Aza hosts one of the Israeli military installations that monitor the border between Israel and Gaza.

The plastics factory was started in 1974, but did not go public until 1993. Kfar Aza became known as a kibbutz willing to experiment and to change, not only in the way it ran its factory but in its attitude toward other cherished institutions.

Varda Goldstein, wife of David and a cultural affairs officer for the Sha'ar Hanegev region, noted for example that Kfar Aza was one of the first kibbutzim in the area to end the "children's house" concept, in which children of the kibbutz lived together rather than with their parents.

The kibbutz today is trying to find its way between socialism and capitalism. An ongoing struggle is whether kibbutz members such as those who manage the Kafrit factory should be rewarded for their efforts by being permitted to keep a larger portion of their salary than other kibbutz
members.

For people like Doron, the need to change the system is obvious: it will create incentives for kibbutz members to earn more, increasing income for the kibbutz in the process. However, a luncheon discussion in Kfar Azza¹s cafeteria indicated that there is a considerable gender gap concerning this question.

Kindergarten teacher Mandy Damarin, Hebrew University student Sharon Shachar and Orit Zadzikevich, who grew up on the kibbutz, agreed that the feeling of community and the lack of materialism one finds in Israeli cities are chief attractions of kibbutz life.

They expressed fears that if kibbutz members are paid differentially according to the jobs that they do, snobbism and social division are likely to ensue. A teacher's work might be seen as less important than a factory manager's.

Shachar said the sense that people care for each other, rather than for material things, was her prime motivation for joining the kibbutz.

"Compared to my cousins in Montreal, I have a very different life," she said. "Their goals are more materialistic. The way I see it, either you can work to get money and financial rewards, or you can have other rewards."

"I like it that everyone here knows my name," said Zadzikevich, who grew up on the kibbutz except for the time her father's business took them to New York. "I had a brother who died in the Army, he is buried here. When I met my husband, I thought he would want to take me from here, but instead he was attracted to come here."

Damarim, who grew up in Beckenham, England, said she chose kibbutz life because it was how she wanted to raise her four children. "I feel safe here," she said. ³"There are no rapists, or intruders, or people who are going to accost my children."