What a Difference a Decade Makes
(Camp Ramah Yachad in the Ukraine, 1993-2003)
by Simon Griver

(Camp Ramah Yachad in the Ukraine operates under the auspices of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem. For more information on Camp Ramah Yachad in the Ukraine and other programs of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, please visit www.schechter.edu.)

Philip Gelpert participated as a teenager in the first Midreshet Yerushalayim Ramah Yachad summer camp in Ukraine back in 1993. Then a Ukrainian high school student from Uzgorod in the Carpathian Mountains, he immigrated to Israel shortly afterwards and this summer returned as a counselor to the tenth consecutive annual Ramah Yachad camp.

“How things have changed,” observed Gelpert. “When I was at the camp we knew nothing about Judaism. We could not read or write Hebrew. This summer most of the children at the camp were familiar with Hebrew and some could even fluently speak the language."

Having grown up in the former Soviet Union and knowing nothing about his Jewish heritage, Gelpert, who studies sports education at the Wingate Institute in Israel, recalled that when he attended the camp he felt very alienated from prayer. ”It was very different this time around,” he explained. “The children seemed very comfortable with the tefilot and so was I. That gave me great pleasure.”    

“In the first camp in 1993 the youngsters barely knew they were Jewish,” recalled Katz who is also director of the Camp, “but after more than a decade of Jewish renewal these children have a sophisticated sense of Jewish identity. We used to make Judaism very simple for the children. Many of them had never seen Shabbat candles lit on Friday evening. Now the level of Jewish knowledge is quite advanced. This year’s camp theme was Tikkun Olam and the month of Elul.”

Katz herself grew up in the former Soviet Union in Chernowitz in Ukraine. The daughter of parents whose entire family perished in the Nazi Holocaust, she described the Soviet regime as imposing a cultural and spiritual Holocaust on its Jewish citizens. Yet despite more than 70 years of communism, Katz insisted, the Jewish spirit was not extinguished.

“But the scars remain,” she observed, “and today many Russian-speaking Jews still feel ashamed of their Jewishness. This is the challenge facing us at Midreshet Yerushalayim – to reconnect these people to their rich Jewish heritage, or at least get them to agree to give their children a Jewish education.”

While most of the children at the camp attend Midreshet Yerushalayim school activities on either a full-time basis or on Sundays, Katz recounted that some of the participants were receiving their first exposure to Judaism.

Gila particularly remembers one 11 year-old, Igor from Kiev, whose “eyes lit up every time he encountered a new Jewish ritual. I heard that he rushed home at the end of camp and begged his parents to register him for the TALI Sunday school. Today, both Igor and his mother are enrolled in our Jewish studies program.”

The two-week camp was almost entirely subsidized by Midreshet Yerushalayim through Gerald Cook from Detroit, who is trustee of the Ben N. Teitel Charitable Trust (MI), though all but the poorest children paid $10 for the camp – a significant sum in a country where the average monthly salary is $100. Additional support comes from the Jewish Agency, which has been involved in the camp since its inception, together with Masorti Olami. Held in picturesque countryside near Kiev, the carefully structured program included much drama, music, dancing, sport and swimming in the nearby river.

Katz’s only regret was that the camp could have been double the size but nearly 200 youngsters could not be accepted due to lack of space. “Preference was given to the disadvantaged and youngsters living in more remote communities,” she explained. “Most of those who were turned down had participated in previous summer camps. We wanted to give new children an opportunity to enjoy the camp’s benefits.” 

Gelpert takes up this point. “The physical and nutritional sustenance provided by the camp is just as important as the spiritual benefits offered,” he said. “I still remember very vividly ten years ago how wonderful the food was at the camp. And while anti-Semitism has declined since the fall of the Soviet Union, so has the standard of living.”    

Katz agreed that the social and economic situation in Ukraine is worse now than under communism. “Ukraine is very nationalistic and that can cause anti-Semitism,” she explained. “But most Ukrainians do not harbor racist thoughts. The maintenance and cleaning staff at the site where the camp was held were not Jewish and many of them expressed interest and admiration in what was happening.”

A remarkable woman who has dedicated her life to Jewish and Zionist education, Katz has lived in Jerusalem since 1996 when she made aliyah and began Jewish studies at the Schechter Institute.

In terms of developing a strong “Jewish connectedness,” Midreshet Yerushalayim scores high.  “We know that many of Ramah Yachad’s participants over the years have immigrated to Israel – perhaps more than half of those over 18 - while others have remained in Ukraine to become part of the Jewish community revival,” explains Katz.  But coming to Israel is not enough. We want these to youngsters to be olim who emigrate out of love for Judaism, Israel and the Jewish people and not just immigrants seeking a higher standard of living.” Katz observed that most of the children who participated in the camp have more knowledge about the Jewish religion than the average well-educated secular Israeli teenager.

Judy Dvorak Gray, who traveled to the camp from Jerusalem as a representative of Masorti Olami, was also impressed by the high level of Jewish knowledge that the camp participants showed, which was of a similar level to their peers in North America. She was even able to have fluent conversations in Hebrew with many of them – something that would be unlikely to happen at a Ramah camp in the US.

Hanna Shchepepova, 24, a rabbinical student at the Schechter Institute in Jerusalem, who will become the first Russian-born Conservative rabbi in the FSU when she is ordained, was impressed by the preparation that went into the camp, including a week-long training program for all the professional staff at the end of July. 

“The children were wonderful," she said. “They were fascinated by the idea of a woman wanting to be a rabbi and curious to know all about my life. But old ideas die hard,” she added. “Even though most of these children learn in a TALI school the idea of a female rabbi was still strange to them. Still, they have open minds and hopefully that will change.”

Shchepepova was drawn to Conservative Judaism because it combines the principles of halakhah adapted to modern needs. “As a rabbi I hope I will be able to reconnect Jews to their heritage,” she explained. “The former Soviet Union still desperately needs more rabbis. Two of the Russian-speaking counselors at the summer camp were very serious about coming to the Schechter Institute to learn for the rabbinate.” 

Joining the camp staff of 35 professionals was Hagit Sabag, 29, an Israeli-born rabbinical student at the Schechter Institute. This is a third camp season for Sabag, who this year served as pedagogic advisor to the Russian-born camp counselors. She was first drawn to visit Ukraine out of curiosity to learn about Russian-speaking Jewry. 

“Despite the differences between Russian speaking Ashkenazi Jewry,” she said, “and Israel’s oriental communities, I still feel we are one people," explained Chagit, whose parents came to Israel from Morocco. The pluralist framework of the Conservative movement provides the ideal vehicle for better understanding between the various Jewish ethnic groups.