My Erim Bayala Visit

My Erim Bayala Visit

ELEM-Entry NY

When you think of Israel, the first thing that often comes to mind is the crisis over the disputed territories. Or perhaps, you think of pious Jews spending their time learning Torah. But how often do you think of the Holy Land’s growing problem with teen and adult age prostitution?

Probably not much.

While rarely spoken of or addressed, every year prostitution in Israel increases at staggering numbers. According to ELEM Youth in Distress in Israel, there are thousands of youth involved in prostitution.

Most of Israel’s prostitutes were sexually abused while growing up. They came to believe that rather than staying in a home where they were forced to have sex with family members, they could get earn a living by entering the field of prostitution. Their ages generally range from 12-24. In most cases they are 16-20. Many still live in the homes they were abused in.

These girls perform numerous sexual acts for their clients But in most cases they receive no or very nominal amounts of money for their service. Generally, close to 90 percent of the payment goes back to the pimps. The women work for food and drinks. In many cases, this is more than they got at home.

Just recently, I spent time in Eilat at ELEM’s Erim Bayala (Awake at Night) house, which helps build feelings of trust that the girls working the streets have never felt.

The small house, which just opened, is adjacent to a high school. Several nights a week ELEM’s volunteers gather there before they walk the streets to find women in need of their help. Currently there are about 10 volunteers at Erim Bayala and 15 working with other ELEM outreach projects in Eilat. About 1,700 people volunteer with ELEM throughout Israel.

Hila, a female volunteer in her early 20s, who is studying social work gave me a quick tour of the facility and we hopped into a taxi to go to the area where the prostitutes work. Upon exiting the cab she showed me the bars where the pimps send them to find clients. The streets were scattered with their “business cards”. These cards showed the prostitute’s photo and contact information. I saw similar on the boardwalk at Frishman Beach, Tel Aviv.

We strolled the streets and Hila told me that the working girls usually hang out in the bars. They know which guys will buy them drinks or something to eat. Once the hook up is made and the drinks and food are done they usually walk to the massage parlor or other locations

The bottom floor of the massage parlor is the Grand Central Station for Eilat’s prostitutes. It contains many doorless rooms and a shower or two. A person could walk by numerous rooms and witness sex acts being performed. The girls then will take a shower and move onto the next client.

The ELEM volunteers often wait in the bars or at the massage parlor. They see the girls exiting their shifts and approach them. ELEM has changed the paradigm of how they work with these people to change their lives.

They never chastise them for working in this profession. They become their friends. They become a person they can talk to about any topic. The girls get cell phones from ELEM staff to use to call them.

It is not uncommon for girls to meet with a volunteer once a week just to chat or have coffee. The volunteers call these girls regularly. They call just to say hello and to build trust. It takes some time for the girls to begin trusting ELEM’s volunteers. But eventually many do.

It is not unusual for the girls to see 20-30 clients over the span of 10-12 hours. So in other words they don’t rest on Shabbat. Sadly, Motzei Shabbat (conclusion of Shabbat, when the work and other restrictions are lifted), it is not uncommon for many Orthodox Jews to go visit these girls. They line up at the massage parlor or in bars. They usually travel in teams of two. One will take off his kippah and long black coat and give it to his friend to hold. He will find a girl and when he is done, the friend will find a girl. And the one who just finished seeing a prostitute will hold his religious effects.

Muslim dads will take their 13 year-old sons to a girl to ensure they lose their virginity.

While some of the girls use drugs, very few become addicts. They may smoke a little or pop a pill or two. This is done to help them escape what they are doing.

Hila and I sat in the Beatles bar sipping beer waiting to see if any prostitutes would enter. None did. But that’s because we were there too early. We left the bar. I went back to my hotel. Hila went home.

But somewhere on the streets of Eilat were young girls that needed help from ELEM’s volunteers and professional staff. Thankfully these people are out there donating their time.

Comments and Volunteering

Hi. Well I have a few readers now. I am slowly getting there. Anyway, some of you comment. But you do it to me via EM or on Facebook.
Why not trying commenting on the blog itself? That’s the point of blogging. All you need to do is go to the end of the post and pop something into the comment box. You can join too. This way you will always know when there’s new post. I know it is not as much fun as joining U2.com or other music sites that give you a chance to get tickets before the rest of the world.

Enough.

It is time for today’s post.

How many of you volunteer? I’ve been involved with this since I was a little kid. Well not sure the Cub Scouts was volunteering. I joined because I wanted to copy my fadder (That’s what a former Chappy camper used to call his dad. I think he still does.) I surpassed him. I’m Eagle. He’s not. But from Cubs through the Boy Scouts the emphasis was helping others. We had to do our good turn daily.

I have always given back and been involved as an adult leader. These days I don’t do as much as I used to. I guess because I am no longer a Staten Islander. In my teen days when I was chief of Aquehongian Lodge #112, one thing I noticed was we had a steady group of adult leaders volunteering. My job was to get the youth involved. One of my favorite leaders, used to scream, “We need more boys. We gotta keep this program going”. I miss him. I’m proud to say my meetings usually had about 100 people attending. Most were scouts. These days we are lucky if we get 10 people in the room.

I had my core group of leaders and volunteers. I appointed them all. One once said, “Yeah you had to be nice to him and have lunch with him the Tottenville High School Library and rehearse the ceremonies. Then you got any position.” Of course he is one my closer buddies. Perhaps that was the case. Or perhaps it was not. I sense someone may comment about how many trunks I used to carry in camp? But that’s in another post…

Many of the fun adults are still around. Some left us for the great campsite in the sky. I hope if I ever get there it looks like Chappy Hill. The Hill I remember. That was my summer camp.

I never stopped volunteering. In my frat, Tau Epsilon Phi, I led tons of community service projects on SUNY New Paltz’s campus.

I’m a Trustee on the Ten Mile River Scout Camps’ Museum committee. I do their PR and am now on the editorial committee for our newsletter, “Smoke Signals”. I could do more with the group. They are my camp family. Many of them watched me grow up. Some of these scouuuuts (our camp joke) met me when I was 12.

About a year and half ago, I had my best Thanksgiving. I was in Tel Aviv and worked with the kids from ELEM/Youth in Distress in Israel. ELEM-Entry NY does lots in the U.S. to help these kids. I am part of it.

I‘ve noticed in all my activities is that no matter how hard you try to bring in new blood, it is always the same group. Whenever new people come to help out we usually wine and dine them to the extreme. Offer them cool patches. Whatever it takes? A few come back.

Sadly it usually the same bunch that grinds it out. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all know who will be late? What everyone will drink? And of course, who will complain about something?

We are the ones who will arrive hours before the event and stay hours later. We will be the most stressed and perhaps the dirtiest. But it is us who will have the most fun. So join the party. You won’t be let down.

Imagine if we could double our attendance? Just think of how many more Eagles would soar or kids could get the help they need?

Any thoughts?

Shabbat in Forest Hills, N.Y.

I am lucky, very lucky. I never have to worry about finding a place for a Shabbat meal. That’d be dinner or lunch. I’ve lived in Forest Hills since the summer of 2007.

For the last several years, I’ve been fortunate enough to be treated to dinners that would cost well over $150 per head in any of NYC’s five star restaurants. I’ve been to the homes of several rabbis, Machane Chodosh’s Delicious Taste of Shabbat, Anshe Shalom Chabad’s dinners and to the homes of countless friends I am part of the family.

Years ago, a Rebbetzin said, I am the wandering Jew of Queens. I am. But aren’t we all wandering? I am happy to report. I’ve found a permanent home in Forest Hills. But do wander around the area.

Despite that I have Cooking merit badge, I am in no position to host Shabbat. Unless you want some delicious chopped meat and veggies cooked in foil? I can whip up anything over an open fire. Well maybe not gefilte fish. But I never tried. However, I am great supplier of Israeli wine, vodka and Arrack. At least, I hope I am.

Yes, I’ve done a few Shabbats in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. No offense to my U.S. friends. I find there is so much more spirituality for me to daven at the Kotel and have dinner in the Old City. I am sure you’d agree. I look forward to when we all do that together when Jerusalem is rebuilt.

Each dinner offers its memories. In one house a really cute girl with yellow, not blonde hair (according to her) will stand on the table and tell us how she made the dinner. She will let us know how the only thing she’s still not big enough to turn on the stove. But she cooked it all. She’s five. Pretty soon according to her ima (mom) won’t be able to tell her what to do.

In another house lots of cute and super smart little kids run around. They treat us to a lesson in the morning’s parsha (weekly Torah portion). They play games and hop around. They probably know more than most of us.

I remember when the older of the girls carried a salad to the table. The bowl probably weighed more than she. However, she wouldn’t let anyone help her carry it. She made it. I remember the night she lit candles for the first time. A little while before she did. She kept telling us she was lighting the candle. We all gave her gifts. She managed to attach herself to all the gift bags and run around.

Then there’s another house or family. When I say family we are part of it. The ages run from about 6 to numbers I cannot up to. I get lectured on what it was like in Brooklyn in years past. I even was given a few “nicknames”.

Our host is an older chap. He is very warm-hearted and has served over 20,000 people over the years. His gefilte fish reminds me of my paternal grandmother’s. I miss her.

The conversations at each home are interesting. We talk Judaism, sports, Star Wars, Middle Earth and more. Much more. Each home seems to have a variety of themes. The singing is always great. Not that I can sing.

The shul dinners are always fun. I just wish they’d skip the Kedem. I call it cough medicine. That’s what my mom said it reminds her of. But it can cure a cough. I had one once and finished lots of Kedem. I was healed. I willI always BYOB.

During the week, some of my Shabbat families get together during the week for meals in some of our restaurants.

I am now deciding what type of wine to take off the wine rack for this Shabbat’s Dinner. I am going to one my favorite places. In this home the spirit you feel is sky high.

Of course, I will never say which is my favorite. Oh why not. My grandmother’s was the best. She left us on the first night of Pesach in 1993. I hope her neshama is getting an aliyah as I type. I know she’s watching me and is with me during each Shabbat. I hope she’s proud. I so wish I learned to speak Ladino.

Well I know this week’s Shabbat will be delicious. Not only in the food. But in what we learn and the time we spend together. It is only a block away or so from my house. But I so wish it was elsewhere. I want it to be in a reconstructed Jerusalem. I know my hosts and all my entire Shabbat family wish the same.

Shabbat Shalom