The Jerusalem Post, April 16, 2010
Do you know Yom Haatzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day? The young woman, a caregiver from the Philippines, smiles, laughs, and shakes her head in response.
“Ma?” (What?) says another.
But these two migrant laborers have been in Israel less than a year. An informal survey conducted at the Central Bus Station, South Tel Aviv’s Lewinsky Park, and at a Filipino basketball game found that the longer a foreign worker is here the more likely he is to celebrate Yom Haatzmaut. This writer also found that Filipinos, many of whom feel a special affinity for Jews because of Christianity, are fondest of the holiday.
Beth Aguilo, a caregiver from the Philippines, says that, like many migrant laborers, she doesn’t celebrate the holiday because she is too busy working. However, she helps her employer hang flags. “We [Filipinos] are very sympathetic to the Jewish people,” she remarks. “We know it’s a very important day for the Jews.”
It seems that some foreign workers might even be more aware of this than Israelis themselves. One Filipina caregiver, who preferred to remain anonymous, says that when she offered to hang an Israeli flag, her elderly employer declined.
Perhaps because of their religious backgrounds, Indian and Nepali workers are less concerned with Yom Haatzmaut. When this writer speaks with those groups, the conversation quickly turns instead towards their national holidays. “I have Yom Haatzmaut off but I don’t celebrate,” says Gil Deepa, from Delhi. “On August 15 [India’s Independence Day] I hang an Indian flag and cook food with my friends.” To mark India’s freedom from British rule, Deepa makes chicken curry, rice, and chapatti, an Indian flatbread.
Deepa, a caregiver who holds a Bachelor’s of Arts from an Indian university, has been in Israel for four years. Unlike some Indian workers, Deepa has been fortunate enough to get a good employer who pays him according to the law and gives him his days off. He likes living here, he says, because he is making money and he feels freedom from family pressures.
Nepali worker Maya Lama has been in Israel for over three years. She isn’t familiar Israel’s Independence Day; she points out that there isn’t one in Nepal. In her home country, Lama says, the biggest holidays are Diwali, the five-day Hindu festival of light, and the Nepali New Year. Falling in mid-April, Israel’s Nepali population will celebrate the New Year the weekend before Yom Haatzmaut with a concert in South Tel Aviv.
Sue Bravo, a Filipina who has lived in Israel for 12 years, says that her two and a half year-old son will celebrate Israel’s Independence Day at the kindergarten he attends. The gan her little boy goes to includes volunteers from Mesila Aid and Information Center for the Foreign Community, which is operated by the Tel Aviv municipality. At the gan, the kids learn Hebrew and celebrate all of Israel’s holidays.
Bravo and her husband, an editor of a local Tagalog publication, also mark the Philippines’ Independence Day, June 12. In Tel Aviv, the Filipino community commemorates the end of Spanish colonial rule with a parade in Lewinsky Park, cookouts, and other gatherings.
Kim Mariano, a Filipina who has been in Israel for 16 years, never forgets the Independence Day of her homeland. But that of the Jewish state is deeply important to her, as well. Mariano, her husband, and their son celebrate the event with a “mangal” (barbecue).
Though Mariano is Christian, as are most Filipinos, her neck bears a magen david pendant with a chai etched in the middle. “It’s a symbol of my love for Israel,” she remarks. And Mariano named her nine-year-old son Rabin, after the slain prime minister.
She remembers the assassination well. “November 4, 1995,” she says.
“My Rabin was born in 2000.” His name, she says, is “a symbol of peace, unity, hope.”
Like any Israeli mother, Mariano is anxious about her son’s mandatory army service. But it’s important to her that he does it. “It’s his responsibility to his country,” she says.
While Mariano is clearly a patriot, her time here hasn’t been easy. She was illegal when the last major wave of arrests and expulsions swept through Israel’s foreign community. Mariano and her son gained permanent residency in 2006, when Israeli allowed some children of illegal residents to be naturalized.
Mariano, who works at a nursing home, reflects on the current crackdown on illegal residents and the planned deportation of children and families. She remarks, “It’s not easy. It’s sad for them.” A former volunteer with Mesila, Mariano is now active with Israeli Children—a grassroots movement that is fighting the expulsion of minors who lack legal status.
Mary Sugaste, the mother of an eight-year-old boy, Joshua, has lived in Israel for 18 years. With the end of the school year in sight, she is anxious about the possibility of deportation to her native Philippines. “Always I’m afraid,” she says. Joshua, sitting next to her on the bench, is oblivious to the conversation we’re having in English—he only speaks Hebrew.
This writer turns to Joshua and asks him if Yom Haatzmaut is his favorite holiday. He answers like most Israeli kids would—he likes Purim best. Joshua looks to the Filipino men playing basketball, which is something of a national sport in the Philippines, on the other side of the chain link. He comments that he likes kadoor regel (soccer) best.
*Photo: Mya Guarnieri. Filipino children celebrating the Jewish holiday Purim