Wednesday, October 14, 2009

A whole new world

This mural was painted on a few different walls of the absorption centers at Ayelet Haschachar; it reads "Go forth from your land, from the place in which you were born, from your father's home, to the land that I will show you" in Hebrew, the quote of God telling Abraham to go to the Promised Land, extremely relevant to those who left everything behind in Ethiopia to travel to an unknown land with nothing but their faith in God - how appropriate!!!

When I made the decision to study Hebrew and volunteer for a year in Israel, I had no idea I'd be needing translations from Amharic on a regular basis. Having just graduated college, studying American Studies with minors in Art History and Latin American Studies at Brandies University, I, like many of my peers, decided to take a "gap year" before plunging into today's dreaded job market, and spend some time in Israel. My program of choice was the Peace and Social Justice track of WUJS-Hadassah, located in Jerusalem, which promised me a fully furnished apartment, ulpan, and an internship placement at the non-profit organization of my choice.

Jumping forward three weeks after my arrival in Israel, I found myself on a bus to Afula with Ziva and Tal, two of the six staff members at the Israel Association for Ethiopian Jews - the organization with which I had chosen to volunteer. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't entirely sure what our mission entailed in heading north from Jerusalem early that Wednesday morning, but I did know I was embarking on what was sure to be an eye-opening experience as we would be visiting various Absorption centers in the north of Israel.
Ziva, Tal and I met up with Danny Admasu, the organization's Executive Director, and Avi, spokesperson for the aguda, with whom, after paying a visit to the city's famed dried fruit and nut store, we drove off further north to Ayelet Haschachar and Beit Alpha.



Ziva, Avi, and Tal at Beit Alpha

From what I could understand (through my slowly-progressing knowledge of Hebrew, not to mention my non-existent knowledge of Amharic) Ayelet Haschachar is a kibbutz which is also home to two absorption centers for Ethiopian Jews. The first, which hadn't received new immigrants in over a year, housed mostly single people or young couples, the majority of which
were at work for the day by the time we arrived – an extremely positive indication of their success in the community. Beit Alpha is a much larger absorption center, pretty isolated with its own schools and parks, and therefore much less opportunity for employment.

Ziva, Tal, Avi, and Danny met with the staff at the absorption centers, and I sat in on the meetings taking "notes" (writing down words I didn't know with every intention to ask someone later on) and trying to keep up with the conversation. Though I could tell the tone was serious, many of the details were lost in translation. The best example of this being the third absorption center where I entertained the myriads of Ethiopian children by teaching them random words in English and capturing their favorite poses with my camera, only to find out later that the adults at this particular absorption center are unemployed and seriously frustrated with nothing to do and no feasible vision for their future. The children who were so playful and so bright were obviously getting a decent education, but their parents, with little to no experience in speaking Hebrew, are being left behind.

The specific circumstance of the Ethiopian community living in absorption centers is truly difficult to comprehend. These parents went through tremendous efforts to make Aliyah, to trek through Ethiopia to Sudan, often leaving loved ones behind, just to stand upon the holy land of Israel, and yet upon thier arrival, they are clustered into 'absorption' centers, which often are wholly removed from Israeli society. Some are offered mindless janitorial work or other physical labor that doesn't require language skills, but many sit idly by with hopes that their children will succeed, as their children are able to grasp the Hebrew language and adapt to the modern Israeli culture that is so vastly different from their country of origin.


Danny Admassu (right) listening intently to the residents of Beit Alpha about their frustrations with their situation.


It is incredible to see these people, living with so many frustrations, knowing they have to trust in the next generation to ease into Israeli society. Israel, on the whole, is perhaps not as welcoming and trusting of all Jewish people as those of us in the United States or the western world might assume. One would think that a culture so built on immigration and welcoming in the Jewish victim might open its arms to all those in need, but this particular community of people who differ so vastly in culture, custom, and yes, race, has been living stagnantly in absorption centers around the country for years.
The situation is both surprising and upsetting, but there is so much hope and so much excitement in the eyes of the Ethiopian youth that there can be no doubt the community will flourish and succeed with enough patience and cooperation from both sides.



There's nothing more exciting than meeting a bright-eyed little Ethiopian boy named Yaakov wearing tzitzit and a kippa.


2 comments:

  1. Your description of the absorption centers is so sad. And yet I've read about Ethiopian Jews in Israel who have "made it" in the army hierarchy, in the arts (Eidan Reichal project), and in other areas. What makes the difference for some who do manage to break out of the sad reality you describe --is it language? How does your organization help?

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  2. So what I realize I didn't address so well in my post was what the IAEJ does. It is an organization which is based mostly in advocacy for policy change, and ultimately tries to make life for Ethiopian Jews easier by finding job opportunities and scholarships for higher education. While many, many Ethiopian Jews have made it in Israeli society - have high ranking positions in the army, are in college, or are excelling in other areas - still many more have just emigrated recently (within the last two years) and therefore don't have the resources (neither financial nor language skills) to get out on their own feet and move out of the absorption centers.

    The IAEJ works with Ethiopian student activists and other groups of community leaders to advocate on behalf of those who feel they don't have the voice in Israeli society, and to make sure the absorption centers are doing everything they can to acclimate their residents to the surrounding Israeli community.

    It is important to remember that these particular Ethiopian Jews, relying on the absorption centers in which they live, do not represent the whole of the Ethiopian community in Israel, and while their stories might be upsetting right now, they will hopefully have much more positive stories to tell in the future.

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