Learning the lay of the land / by Sarah Gidanian

This morning I woke up early for the Hanukkah tiyul (camping trip) training session. Lisa and I got dressed and then headed for the local bakery around 7:45 am. It’s less than a three minute walk from our house, and whenever you pass by, the most enticingly delicious smell hits your nose. It’s almost impossible to resist going in when walking by, and I hardly ever attempt to resist. Lisa and I go in to find the place packed with people. It’s Friday morning and everyone wants to get the tastiest burekas (essentially flakey pastries filled with a variety of either savory or sweet goodness) in town before Shabbat. Lisa and I joke about buying two of each bureka because they are all fresh out of the oven and still steaming. We load sweet and savory treats into our bag while we attempt to keep our place in line, because the line is practically out of the door. I pay no more than a dollar for my five burekas: two potato, two mushroom & onion, and one chocolate croissant. After Lisa pays for her food, handling the line and Hebrew like a veteran Israeli, we head over to the meeting place for our tiyul.
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A Tale of Two Teachers / by Max Rosen

We are two days away from marking our third month in Israel. And while we are by no means nearing the end of our adventure here, like so many others in my house, I have begun to contemplate the next steps I will take when my time with Yahel comes to a close. My passion, for the last four years of college study, and a greater part of my adult life, has resided in working with children. This passion played a major role in my decision to come to Israel with Yahel, since I would be afforded the opportunity to work in a local elementary school. I am no stranger to working in a classroom, but none the less, I know that things operate differently in different countries, and braced myself accordingly. What I have discovered, is a surprise none the less.

Our experience has actually been quite unique. We work side-by-side with two different teachers, each with their own unique style. When we say, ‘kids will be kids,’ we all know that accounts for a certain level of leeway, be it their understanding of the world, or in this case, their level of mischievousness. Apparently, Israeli kids are notorious for being rambunctious.

One of the women we work with, Oshrit, is probably no different than any other EFL (English as a foreign language) teacher. She was educated in the Israeli school system, and mastered her English abilities while attending University in England. Yet, despite the chaos I observed in the school yard, and heard in the halls, I observed a classroom of quiet, respectful students. Was it simply this handful of students? My theory was proven false upon observing all of her subsequent classes behaving in the same manner. I decided I needed to know her secret, and I asked just that, to which I received the response ‘You cannot let them misbehave like they do outside or in their other classes. If a student does not want to listen, or do his work, I call his parents and make sure they know about it.’ This answer though, did not have me convinced. My own experience and knowledge had shown that authoritarian rule over the classroom always ended in failure. But then I noticed something that made everything clear to me. While walking down the hall, we came upon two young boys getting into a pretty heated argument. At this point, Oshrit intervened, and she and one of the boys began a heated conversation of their own. Voices continued to rise, up until Oshrit’s became the dominant of the two and what had started as an argument soon became a lecture. The entire conversation took place in Hebrew, so of course I understood only a few words, but the context was clear. What followed next totally took me by surprise. Oshrit’s voice went from rigid, to soft and comforting. She said a few more words (that I did not understand) then took the boys face in her hands, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. It was suddenly clear to me, why her kids behaved in the manner that they did. It wasn’t out of fear, but respect. It was clear that they identified Oshrit as a figure not to be messed with, but also as someone they could rely on, someone who they could trust to be fair.
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IDC Students Make a Difference

A group of friends and students at IDC Herzliya, met Yahel Director, Dana Talmi, at an event earlier this year. Following the event, the group of students were inspired.

A few months later, they contacted Dana about wanting to help Yahel, and about wanting to make a difference. They weren’t quite sure how or to what extent, but they knew that they wanted to help. After a quick trip down to Gedera and visits with Yahel and Friends by Nature, they were particularly inspired by the community garden project – they decided they wanted to help raise funds to sustain the garden.

The group of friends were hosting a joint birthday party for all three of them a few weeks after they made their decision, so they decided to talk to the bar where they were hosting their party, and ask them if they would be willing to donate a percentage of the proceeds to FBN’s community garden…and they agreed! Three weeks and three birthdays later, Friends by Nature was presented with a check for NIS 1,500 as well as toys and games for the community.

This time of year, and always, we are so thankful to those people who do not just sit on the sidelines – they get involved! If you are involved with Yahel already, thank you, and if you want to do more, please let us know. We are happy to talk to you about how we can work together to make a difference.

“Drop everything! And read this…” / by Lisa Frenkiel

Every Thursday between 9:30 am and 11:30 am, you can find the Yahelnikim sitting around a table in the Shapira neighborhood with a Rabbi.

“But I thought this wasn’t a religious program?” “He is just trying to make you more religious so you will move to Israel.”

These are two responses I have gotten when I explain our weekly Beit Midrash (Jewish Text Study). To these questions I say: It isn’t particularly religious and by engaging in Jewish text study, he isn’t trying to convince us to move to Israel.

Even before I met our Rabbi, I loved the idea of Beit Midrash. I wanted to explore the work I am doing in a Jewish context and each of us are, after all, Jewish. And, even if we aren’t religious, we did choose to come to Israel – not Kenya, Zimbabwe or Harlem.
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Israel’s landscape / by Jenna Neulander

Together, the Yahelnikim and our fearless leaders have been exploring more of the country. This past week we traveled to Hava v’ Adam, a sustainable eco farm. There, we met up with another Masa program, Eco Israel, and learned more about living sustainably and how to leave the least human imprint on our environment. They turned everyday conventional living into something useful.

The landscape in Israel is always changing. For such a small country, in a matter of hours you can swim in the cool fresh waters of the Kinneret surrounded by lush green hills and then travel south while you gradually watch the earth fade from green to the beige sand. Just like people, Israel changes with her moods. During the rainy season, which we are entering, green starts to patch the usual grey areas of the land – surprising and bemusing the eye. Israel’s weather changes in the matter of an instant and can quickly warm your skin or chill you to the bone. With Yahel we have been experiencing the land. A part of our time here is spent connecting to the land as well as the people. Sometimes my mood coincides with Israel, the rain brings a calm to my day and fresh air to our home. Other times we aren’t on the same page, she is happy and shinning while I feel like curling up in a blanket and staying inside. We always seem to resolve our differences and I cherish the moments I am able to stand alone and look out onto this amazing country.

When teaching meets learning / by Justin Lichtenstaedter

Justin and the Yahelnikim doing group activities with other Friends by Nature staff members

When I began teaching here in Gedera, I thought I would be helping my students learn English. The major mistake in that assumption is that “Teach” and “Learn” are totally different. Knowledge imparted is not congruous with knowledge received.

We have a program called “Shabab” which essentially means, “Homework at Home”, where I have been going into a seventh-grade boy’s home and helping him with his English for almost two months now. I can remember the first time I walked into his apartment and sat down in an environment that had me confused as to how to spell “cat” and “dog”. We sat on the couch with the TV on playing music videos. The father was sitting next to us with a screaming baby in his arms. We crouched over to work on a knee high Coffee table. Making it even more difficult was the fact that my student knew almost no English. How was I going to teach English in this environment?
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Recap: Yahel Weekend in the North

Exploring Afula with Hadas Goldman

A couple weeks ago, the Yahel group, including a few Ethiopian young adults from Gedera, spent three packed and wonderful days up North. The weekend started on Friday morning when the group headed to Afula to meet with the local “Tarbut” community. “Tarbut” is a network of young communities comprised of artists who have chosen to live in marginalized areas in Israel and contribute using art and education. The group met with Hadas Goldman, one of the founding members who started the group about six years ago. Today there are many Tarbut communities in Israel that function as communes and include several hundred members.

A beautiful day for a hike

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My life-changing experience / by Jesse Wallsh

About eight months ago I arrived in Israel.

At the time I really wanted to volunteer, immerse myself in a different culture and spend time living abroad. I had hopes and desires, but I had no idea what my experience would be like. Would I be able to make an impact in the neighborhood? How much of a difference can I make without knowing Hebrew and with my limited Amharic (the language spoken by most of the Ethiopian Jewish immigrants)? Would I make great friends? Questions flowed through my mind like a river slowly carving a canyon. But, I answered “yes” to each of these questions.

During the first two weeks of my time here, we were very busy learning. We had sessions about empowerment, Ethiopian Jewish culture and sustainability. I was eager to start mingling and meeting people in the neighborhood and volunteering, but I was grateful to be introduced to these important issues and not just thrown into my volunteering immediately. On my first day off I walked through the neighborhood alone. I brought a hacky sack and asked kids and teenagers if they wanted to play with me. I played with some kids and I also talked with some older folks who were sitting on benches. I greeted people with my limited Amharic. I had a nice talk with an older man and I told him I love injera (Ethiopian flatbread) in Amharic. After telling him this he invited me into his home. I was really surprised, and honored, at the invitation. I had never been invited into anybody’s home or fed right after being acquainted. He asked his wife to bring me some food and we ate together. I wasn’t able to communicate very well, but fortunately I knew how to say two of the most important things; thank you and the food is delicious.
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Breaking down stereotypes / by Sarah Gidanian

So I’ve been running around the house stressing out and procrastinating writing this blog, probably annoying all of my roommates when one of them, Justin, suggested we go get ice cream. Since we’ve all been living together for about two months now, my roommates know me pretty well. They know I’ll do anything for ice cream, especially from this phenomenal little family owned ice cream shop a block away from us. We tend to frequent it because the owners are truly sweet. With their broken English they ask about how we are doing, and give us free samples when they can’t explain the ingredients of a certain flavor, along with chocolate syrup on the house; just a day in the life volunteering in the quaint town of Gedera. As we leisurely stroll back to our house enjoying the cool evening we encounter some of the many residents of Shapira, most of which are young adult Ethiopian males. Justin, Max and I greet the people we meet and in our extensive vocabulary ask how people are doing, usually not knowing what they say in response. This generally promotes good natured laughter on all sides, particularly from three young males. We stop to chat, they ask us where we are from in broken English, and we answer in the basic Hebrew we learned in Ulpan. They are shocked and thrilled to find out Justin and Max are from New York while I’m from Los Angeles, and that we ventured from such “cool cities” to volunteer in Shapira of all places. The conversation progresses to what music we like, we answer knowing most of the boys love Tupac, based off of a mural a street over and the random graffiti found in the neighborhood of his name. The boys ask us if we enjoy living in Shapira, if we’ve partied, and how long we are staying. They ask if we’re Jewish, if Max and Justin had a bar mitzvah, and what the Jews are like in America. They also extensively question us what it’s like in America for the “black” people, especially now that Obama is president. Using a combination of Hebrew, English and hand gestures, we tell them of everyday life in the states, and they tell us about growing up in Shapira. All of them speak Amharic, Hebrew and of course broken English. They seem to genuinely express an interest and curiosity in learning everything, and are fascinated by us, as much as we are fascinated by them. We stood on the corner of the street across from the community garden cracking jokes, sharing stories, and differences in culture. The fact that we can’t really speak Hebrew and they can’t really speak English was not a deterrent at all.

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Define: Help / by Max Rosen

When we think about ‘helping’ someone, our thoughts often go directly to a relationship of victim and savior. The victim, a person (or people) who, by some course of misfortune, have been left vulnerable, incapable, or maybe both; it is the savior who comes to the aid the victim(s) in their hardship and does exactly that, he saves. He is the strong assisting the weak, the extended hand reaching out to the fallen. But in the six weeks that I have spent living in Gedera, I have come to understand a new truth, that the actions we are so quick to define as ‘helping,’ may in fact not be helping at all.

We often assume that to help requires action, and in many respects it does. But that action must come from both parties. If you were to come across a village where water was scarce, naturally you would assume that they needed a well. But the course of action cannot simply be to build that well for them and go on your way, thinking you’ve done them a service. It is important that you make them a part of the process, allowing them to be the source of their own salvation.

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