NEW YORK — From a native Ethiopian kid to an Israeli national and now a citizen of the United States, eejhy Baharny, 38, is clearly a woman of many nationalities, but one stands out most for her: “If you ask me where I am from, I’ll tell you I’m from Ethiopia.”

Her transition through these countries, she explains, was a complex journey of excitement and frustrations, at the center of which was religion. “Our people had dreamt of Jerusalem – the Promise Land – for thousands of years.  We just left everything behind and started going. It was like a dream come true when we finally arrived.”

But the dream was tarnished, Baharny said, by “ 30 years of discrimination and prejudices against Ethiopian Jewry in Israel.” She has found happiness in the United States where she met and married a Caribbean man and is raising her two children.

Baharny is one of about 1,000 Ethiopian Jews who live in the United States, 600 of them in the New York area. She has made her home in Harlem, where she runs an organization called Beta Israel of North America (BINA). BINA, says Baharny, was created with three goals in mind: (1) to foster the continuity of the Ethiopian Jewish (Beta Israel) cultural heritage and promote understanding of its traditions and history among Jews and non-Jews; (2) to empower Ethiopian Jews in the United States, Israel, and Ethiopia, and (3) to provide assistance to Ethiopian Jews who come to the U.S.

In sum, she added, “BINA is an initiative by us to empower us.”

The organization, which Baharny says is not membership-based and is open to people who want to enrich themselves about diversity within the Jewish world, is struggling financially.

“We’ve gone from a budget of about $100,000 to about $40,000 but that can’t discourage us from doing the work we set out to do,” she said.

According to BINA’s website, the organization regularly holds educational workshops with curriculum and lesson plans for children and teenagers about Ethiopian Jewish culture and tradition. It also has cultural events at the center of which are Ethiopian coffee ceremony and Ethiopian arts and crafts.

“We project educational movies and documentaries about Ethiopian Jews, meet on Jewish holidays to share a meal,” Baharny added. “Every March, for example, we have Ethiopian Shabbat weekend experience where we spend an entire weekend with the Ethiopian cultural organization in Connecticut.”

The organization, Baharny said, has been able to raise money with the help of a Harlem councilwoman, Inez E. Dickens, and the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, The New York Jewish Community Relations Council,  Ethiopian Airlines and  individual donors have also been helpful, she said.

Baharny was only four years old in 1980 when her family, like many other Ethiopian Jews, decided to leave their native Ethiopia for Israel.

The State of Israel recognizes this form of immigration as a right for all Jews in the world to return to their Promise Land  – Israel – in fulfillment of the Bible’s promise to the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The immigration is called Aliyah in Hebrew.

Aliyah is either done voluntarily for ideological, economic and spiritual reasons, or because of religious persecution, as was the case with most Holocaust survivors from Europe.  About three million Jews from more than 90 countries around the world are said to have immigrated to Israel since its establishment in 1948.

By 1964, some 240,000 African Jews had escaped the nationalist struggles in Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Ethiopia and Egypt, and come to Israel. But the first major wave of aliyah from Ethiopia happened in the mid 1970s. Later in November 1984, the Israeli government launched Operation Moses – a two months series of airlifts – during which more than 7,000 Jews were flown from refugee camps in Sudan to Israel.  A second series dubbed Operation Solomon happened on May 24^th, 1991 when 34 aircrafts transported 14,325 Jews from Addis Ababa in one day. Since then, Ethiopian Jews have continued to immigrate to Israel.

Prior to the well organized and widely publicized Operation Solomon and Operation Moses, aliyah was a herculean task for most Ethiopian Jews– including Baharny’s family.

“It was tough,” Beejhy Baharny said. “Long distances on foot and on horseback, day and night. We rested in tents and with local villagers we came across who, fortunately, helped re-stock us with water and food as we trekked on.”

The difficult four-week journey to Sudan was even more challenging because Baharny’s mother had just given birth and the baby was barely two weeks old. Four-year old Baharny was the first of three children at the time.

They had received letters from family members who had arrived in Israel and were writing to encourage them to make the journey. They had also been informed that some benevolent individuals and non-governmental organizations in the United States were sending financial and human resources to help Ethiopian Jews migrate to Israel. However, due to the fragile diplomatic relations between Israel and Ethiopia at the time, they could not board planes from Addis Ababa. Instead, they had to travel, surreptitiously and without vehicles, to Sudan where they’ll be placed on a waiting list.

The waiting lasted three years.

“We had to start life anew, in a new place, in a new country,” Baharny said.

Meanwhile the 1983-1985 widespread famine that hit Ethiopia and Eritrea increased the number of Ethiopians in Sudan as many arrived as refugees. Baharny’s family, like many others had to conceal their identity as religious migrants en route to Israel, as that could drag Sudan into the not-so-good diplomatic ties between Ethiopia and Israel.

Help from the Israeli government and some North American non-governmental organizations that had pushed for the recognition of Ethiopian Jews by Israel finally got to Baharny’s family and community in Sudan. It was time to leave.

“They came at night,” she recalled, “took us in a Land Rover and drove through Sudan’s capital –Khartoum – then through Uganda, then to Kenya.”

The vehicle carried more than 15 people, including Baharny’s siblings, cousins, parents, grandmother, and other villagers. They had no identification documents with them. So the driver had to bribe their through the two weeks journey to Nairobi where they would board a plane to Israel.

“It was a Scottish driver and each time we got to a military check point, the white man would give the soldiers some money and we’d be allowed to go,” Baharny said.

They finally made it to Nairobi and boarded a plane to Israel. Baharny, who was now seven years old, knew what was going on but their eventual arrival in Israel did not mean the same for her as it meant to the older folks. “It was a very exciting emotional moment for the adults.”

Baharny explains that landing in Israel itself was the highpoint of the whole dream. Then, the process of integration began. As she looks back, the 38-year-old says certain things about the way they were initiated into their new country did not seem right.

“They just take you and give you a new name without your consent,” she said.

Her first name was changed to Yaffa, a Hebrew word for pretty or beautiful. But as she grew older, Baharny rebelled against the new name: “I just dismissed it completely out of my record.”

Baharrny says she also found it awkward that they were kept in absorption centers that isolated them from the rest of the world, sewing the seed for segregation.

“ I wish it was done differently so it wouldn’t create this gap where Israelis always refer to us –including those born in Israel – as Ethiopians, not Israelis, even though we grow there, we go to school and serve in the army.”

Ruthy Shenkol, a 28-year old Brooklyn-based Ethiopian Jew who was born and raised in Israel, said that her experience was different. “I never experienced any form of racism or discrimination in Israel. But I have a lot of friends that have experienced it.”

Shenkol who moved to the United States two months ago, explained that the “Ethiopian experience” in Israel might also depend on what part of the country you live in.

“I guess it was different for me because we lived in a small city of mainly Ethiopian Jews, where everyone knows everyone,” she said.

Another Ethiopian Jew, David Mihret, 49, came to Israel through Sudan at the age of 19. “The journey to Israel was awfully hard,” said Mihret in an email. “We lost many family members and relatives on the way. It was full of sorrow and pain but also full of courage. This journey had only shown the intensity of the Zionism in our life, the love of the Israeli land.”

Mihret who still lives in Israel said he doesn’t really feel discriminated against and that Ethiopian Jews are sometimes treated better than other immigrants, but that, “there are people in the Israeli society that aren’t willing to accept us just because of our culture, folkways and the color of our skin.”

Racial and cultural differences made it harder for them to integrate the Israeli society, Mihret added

One of Baharny’s worries was that their Judaism was questioned. “ They had this whole issue that we were not Jewish enough and that we had to convert. That was a big shock and disappointment. How can you say to people who have been practicing Judaism for thousands of years that it’s not good enough and should be done your way?”

Galia Sabar is a professor of African studies at Tel Aviv University in Israel. In a telephone interview, Sabar, who has been researching and has published many academic papers about Ethiopian Jews, explained that until the Ethiopian Jews moved to Israel, their Judaism was very different from what other (white) Jews practiced:

“Their Judaism is one that is more pre-Second Temple,” she said. “In other words, they were not up-to-date with the changes made after the destruction of the Second Temple.”

Sabar gave examples of how Ethiopian Jews celebrated holidays that other Jews did not celebrate and vice versa. She also noted that among other things, Ethiopian Jews had a different style of dress.

In 1973, the chief rabbi at the time recognized Ethiopians simply as Jews and once they got to Israel they were automatically granted citizenship, Sabar said.  However when they arrived in large numbers in the beginning of the 80s, they had to convert.

“They were forced to go through a symbolic dipping in a river as some Jewish women would do after her period or before her marriage, and the men were asked to go through a symbolic circumcision, although it was more of cutting and spilling out some blood as a symbol than actually circumcising since most of them were already circumcised in Ethiopia,” she said.

The modern Judaism forced on them was a religious and cultural shock to Ethiopian Jews. Many rejected it and were extremely annoyed and felt fundamentally insulted. There were huge demonstrations in 1985 and 1986 against these forced rules. Unfortunately they had to surrender because the Israeli Chief rabbi did not give up on that. This is part of a huge debate currently going on in Israel about different ways to practice Judaism, a debate that is not exclusive to Ethiopian modes of Judaism.

“This was not unique to them,” Sabar said. “The Yemenite Jews; Indian Jews etc also practiced a different kind of Judaism.“

Baharny remembers some of their Jewish practices that were strange to other Jews. “When a female gets her period, they build a special hut for her – and this is written in the Torah – to stay there until after seven days when she bathes in a river and comes back home.   So during that period you don’t cook, your mom and aunts will take care of you.”

This, Baharny explained, happened on a monthly basis.  It was a strong practice within the Jewish community in Ethiopia, which did not exist in Israel. “When we arrived Israel that did not exist. They never practiced it.  Women have their period and stay in the same house, cook, touch each other etc. It was kind of funny to see people who did that and turn around to say you’re not Jewish enough. Sabar acknowledged that there is racism in Israeli society. Ethiopians often face difficulties, for example, when they want to rent an apartment.

“So nobody would tell them if they’re not renting because they’re black. But they’ve done many tests on this like calling without identifying themselves by name and are told the apartment is vacant but once they go there in person the apartment is suddenly ‘occupied.’”

The Tel Aviv University professor noted that it would be an overstatement to say that discrimination in Israel is only targeting Ethiopian Jews. “It goes in all directions. It’s just sometimes a matter of this or that group not wanting the other in their school or wherever they believe to be their space.”

There have also been reports of Ethiopian Jews discriminating against fellow African immigrants in Israel. They draw a very clear line between them and other African migrants and asylum seekers. Sabar says this agonizes her because some of them are putting this line on people from their own country.

“They see themselves as Jews and Israeli citizens, mistreating other people that share the same culture as them,” she said. “ They treat other Africans on basis of nationality and legal status, and there’s hardly any pity or sympathy or caring.

It’s understandable but I think it’s very upsetting in many ways.”

Baharny evidences Sabar’s point in the following words.

“ A lot of Israelis mistake Ethiopian Jews for refugees from other African countries. There have been situations where Ethiopian Israeli citizens are beaten up because they look like Eritrean or other Africans…”

All the challenges notwithstanding, there have been some significant success stories among the Ethiopian Jewish community in Israel, Sabar said. “There are only 100,000 Ethiopian Jews in Israel out a population of about 7 million, yet look at the number members of parliament, lawyers, physicians, officers in the IDF and the beauty queens etc.”

Mindful of these success stories, Baharny clearly exhibits mixed feelings about Israel. “I grew up in Israel. Israel did contribute a lot to who I am. My family is there, everybody: my aunts, my cousins, my parents, my brothers etc. I still love Israel but Israel needs to change the way they treat Ethiopian Jewry.”

Baharny settled in New York  after spending three years in the army and then traveling in many countries in Europe, Africa and North and South America. She created BINA in 2004, four years after she settled in the United States.

Mamadou Diouf, the director of the Institute of African Studies at Columbia University and a professor of African studies and history, said that  it is not unusual to find many Ethiopians whose reaction to the Israeli experience is similar with Baharny’s.

“They are building an identity based on their Ethiopian Legacy, in reaction to the realities of racism and difficult integration in Israel.”

Diouf says the journey to Israel and the challenges they face helped remind them of their cultural and color differences, and that no one but them can truly value their uniqueness.

Baharny says she is happy, however, that a lot of Ethiopian people in Israel often go back to Ethiopia because they’re proud of their Ethiopian heritage. “Many are returning to Ethiopian and starting businesses. Some have gone back to Ethiopia permanently. You cannot have dual citizenship within Ethiopia but you can have an ID card and are treated like any other Ethiopian. The only thing you cannot do is vote.”

Mihret said that he has gone back to Ethiopian three times and for three different reasons. The first time was just for tourism but the second time was to figure out ways of helping other young Ethiopian Jews to migrate to Israel at a suitable age for them to study in Israeli schools. As for the third trip, Mihret said:

“I took Ethiopian high school students to Ethiopia to teach them about the history and the culture of the Ethiopian Jewish people, believing visiting the country where their parents were born and raised will help them know and understand the rich history of the Jewish people in Ethiopia and Ethiopians in general.”

As for Shenkol, she has never been to Ethiopia but plans to do so in future. She says they have no family in Ethiopian but that Ethiopia dear to their hearts. “My father visited Ethiopia many years ago but my mom is plane-frightened. I will like to go in the future

Sabar is hopeful that Israel is going to change and become more conducive for people like Baharny or Baharny’s children:

“All in all, I think a vast majority of them; especially the young ones are finding their way within the Israeli society. It will take another generation or two. But I don’t think it can be compared, for example, to the situation of blacks in America or blacks in other western countries and you see more and more really very successful stories of Ethiopian Jews.”