It Takes a Village
the view from Mount Carmel

Yemin Orde Youth Village sits high atop Mount Carmel, surrounded on three sides by lush banana plantations. Clean, white bungalows house 500 residents, who live, study, and play together on the 77-acre campus. Students gather in bright, spacious meeting rooms, they stroll along gently winding pathways, and they swim in the aqua-blue Mediterranean Sea below. But don't let the serenity fool you. Personal turmoil and group conflicts seethe just beneath the surface.

Yemin Orde's tranquil-looking campus provides a safe haven for disadvantaged Jewish youth from Israel, Europe, Latin America, Ethiopia, and the former Soviet Union. They come from countries at war. They come from families in crisis. They come to Israel and Yemin Orde because no one else wants them.

"Most of our kids have not been treated fairly by life," says Susan Weijel, director of outreach and development. "They have been spit out and rejected by the rest of the world. The thing they most fear is that they'll be rejected again." But at the Youth Village, youngsters ages 5 to 19 discover a welcoming environment where they build inner strength and reconnect to their native heritage.

Yosef, an Ethiopian boy, is a good example of the difficult challenges of bringing children into the Yemin Orde family. When he was 5 years old, he walked with his family from Ethiopia to Israel, a dangerous 1,500-mile trek. Along the way, two of his brothers died. Four years after arriving in Israel, his father died, and then a brother was killed in a gang fight. By the time Yosef was 14, he was depressed, angry, and violent. His personal losses left deep scars, which prevented him from trusting anyone. "For someone as bitter and angry as Yosef," explains Weijel, "we begin by offering security, a safe place where he feels that no matter what he does, he belongs here."

Building a foundation of trust takes time, especially when cultural barriers interfere. Voya, for example, came to the Youth Village from a Russian orphanage he hated. But adapting to his new surroundings proved difficult; after all, he didn't speak Hebrew, and even Israeli food tasted strange. So, although Voya's past plagued him, an uncertain future seemed worse. One Shabbat afternoon, he ran away. When searchers found him, he said he was walking back to Ukraine because he wanted everything in his life to be as it was before.

In these situations, says Weijel, "We discuss, discuss, and discuss. We send the kid to talk with everyone who has contact with him-his counselor, his teachers, our staff, and professionals. They discuss what happened and what the problem was."

Cultural and economic differences between students cause many of the problems on campus.

From time to time, jealousy rears its ugly head. "It can be a problem," says Shagau Mekonen, a Yemin Orde graduate who works as a counselor. "One kid sees that another kid gets new clothes, or receives more pocket money. So we discuss it. We encourage them to express their feelings. But what they'll come to understand is that the kid who received more, usually needed more."

Yemin Orde also teaches respect for cultural differences. Fifty days after Yom Kippur, Ethiopian Jews observe Sigd, a day of prayer and fasting that celebrates Torah learning and Ethiopian Jewry's yearning to return to Israel. Jews in Ethiopia climb the tallest mountain and look with longing toward Jerusalem. Although only half the residents in Yemin Orde are Ethiopians, on Sigd, everyone wears white and hikes to the top of the highest hill. "By encouraging each child to be proud of his own heritage, we inspire self confidence," notes Weijel. "When children feel self-esteem, it's easier for them to accept others."

Unfortunately, when new residents arrive in the Youth Village, their self-esteem is in short supply. "They think their lives are ruined and that they've failed," says Weijel. Nothing, though, could be farther from the truth. Slowly, but methodically, staff and veteran residents rebuild each human spirit that arrives. Working with tools, such as patience, trust, and understanding, students and faculty at Yemin Orde Youth Village construct a community filled with ty 1B6 Molv4 (shlom bayit, family harmony); a home that echoes these words of the Yemin Orde Youth Choir:

"No more Russians or Israelis, no more black or white; We are simply united by hope, because we are all of humankind; Hundreds of souls from all over the world, and harmony binds them all together, With a hand on your heart, yearning for more, On top of Mt. Carmel, the Village of Yemin Orde."

The Yemin Orde Youth Choir

“A river of colors, many streams run to the sea,
Dreams carried by the tides...
But the light always shines when hope remains
Without a past, there is no present or future….”

For the 20 members of the Yemin Orde Youth Choir, “The Journey of Life” is their own story. Written by the kids themselves, set to music by their director, Ronen Lan-Rieder, it's the way they live every day.

For the teenagers who grow up in the Yemin Orde Youth Village, their school is simultaneously a home, school, and refuge from the painful past most of them left behind. Here, they learn about themselves and their own cultures, about Judaism and their place in the Jewish world, about Israel and what our homeland means to Jews the world over. Day by day, the kids from all over the world learn to live and work together as one people—a river of many colors, running to just one sea, filled with dreams and hope and light.

The choir travels and performs the world over, sharing not only their glorious music but the Yemin Orde philosophy as well: that to succeed as a group, each individual must be respected and confident.

 

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