Ethiopian Identity and Injarra

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By Ryan Youra 
ENP Volunteer Summer 2014, via Onward Hillel
Graduate from American University

            I went for it. A rip of brown spongy bread, some potatoes and some sauce, and a messy pinch and smiles all around as the sauce dripped down my hand.  
            I ate Ethiopian food for the first time. Not just any Ethiopian food, but food cooked by my campers. I guess if I was going to finally have it, it might as well be homemade.  

            For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been volunteering at the Ethiopian National Project (ENP), an organization committed to providing youth outreach assistance and services to Ethiopian-Israelis. I’m currently working at summer camp for recently immigrated Ethiopian-Israeli girls ages 12-16. As a group, the volunteers plan the activities, buy supplies, and then help run the camp on Sundays, Mondays, and Tuesdays.  

            It’s easy to picture Israel as one homogenous population, just a ton of white, European descendants, all Jewish, all speaking Hebrew. But that isn’t the case. Yes, a large majority are white and Jewish and everything is conducted in Hebrew, but Israel has a mix of cultures and people like any other country. If anything, the tensions the past couple of weeks highlight that.  
            I’ve learned a lot about the experience of Ethiopian Jews and the challenges to integrating them into Israeli society. The Ethiopian-Israelis at the camp attempt to bridge their two cultures. They study in Hebrew and gossip in Amharic (the official language of Ethiopia). They listen to both Israeli and Ethiopian music. They message their friends in Ethiopia and chat with their friends in Israel. They eat pita and injarra.
  
            But there is more for them than choosing which bread to eat. Ethiopian-Israelis have a lower chance of passing the end of high school and university matriculation exams, potentially limiting steps towards future success. They have to navigate the differences of their two societies, and that’s not so easy.  

            Food gives them an avenue to keep some of their Ethiopian identity. That sour, spongy bread is their comfort; it’s their usual. I’m glad that I could take part in even a little bit of it.  

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