Mobs of tourists visit Israel. They cry at the Western Wall, float in the Dead Sea, eat at trendy restaurants and sleep in posh hotels. But often they miss seeing another face of Israel.
Put it this way: Tourists don’t visit Afula. It’s on the “periphery” – physically and culturally distant from chic Tel Aviv and throbbing Jerusalem. Though it’s termed the “Capital of the Jezreel Valley” and its downtown boasts the most sophisticated shopping malls in the area, there aren’t any skyscrapers or subways in the city.
Public transportation within the city consists of four bus lines, with a fifth added on Mondays and Thursdays, the two days on which the city shuk operates. The surrounding fields and the mountain ranges seen in the distance heightens Afula’s placidity.
Afula is a city of immigrants. In the 1950s, the State erected ma’abarot (absorption camps) in the city to accommodate thousands of North African immigrants. This Sephardic element now dominates the city. The medley of languages and skin colors in Afula was amplified in the 1990s, when the city absorbed thousands of Russian and Ethiopian immigrants.
Afula is by-and-large a secular city. But, in the last two decades many Afula residents have been mitchazek and strengthened their Torah and mitzvah observance. In addition, the tranquil lifestyle and affordable housing has generated the establishment of new religious communities.
Contrary to the anti-religious sentiments expressed in the Israeli media, Afula residents embrace their new religious neighbors and are encouraged to grow along with them in halacha observance.
Religious Wasteland
“There were no religious institutions here when we arrived in 1996,” says Rav Menachem Gold, founder of the Afula Educational Center. “There were no kollelim or kiruv schools and no kosher l’mehadrin restaurants or bakeries.”
American-born, Rav Gold got married in 1984 and settled in Beitar. But his religious surroundings didn’t deceive him. He was haunted by large segments of the population who lived right outside his immediate social circle – those who knew nothing about their Jewish heritage.
He moved to Afula to teach Torah. He chose Afula because, despite the city’s secular orientation, the dominant Sephardic culture in the city is very respectful of rabbanim and Jewish traditions. In fact, there are tens of batei knessiot throughout the city.
Rav Gold joined a handful of people who taught Torah in the city: Rav Yaakov Deutch, Rav Peretz Tzioni zt“l, and Rav Yehuda Shitrit were all reaching out to different parts of the population.
Side by Side
Victor got into his cab late Friday afternoon, ready to start his shift at work. As he drove out of his neighborhood, he noticed a colleague walking out of his house. Clad in a white shirt and long slacks, his friend was followed by three similarly dressed sons. They were obviously walking to the beit knesset for Kabbalat Shabbat.
The scene sparked Victor’s jealousy. And, it brought amazing results. If he can have it, so can I, he thought to himself. That happenstance sighting turned Victor’s life around. He and his family became shomer Shabbat and adopted a religious lifestyle.
Victor’s story reinforces Rav’s Gold’s belief in the integration of religious families amongst the non-religious. Rav Gold opened a kollel in which avreichim learn two sedarim a day and spend at least ten hours a week on outreach activities. But, their kiruv role is really never-ending.
“About a year or two ago,” Anat Arusi, the wife of a kollel avreich recounts, “my husband was shopping at the local supermarket. As he was checking out, the irreligious cashier asked him a question about yiddishkeit.
“My husband gave her an answer, but she then bombarded him with a host of other questions. By this time, there was a line of people waiting behind him, so my husband took the girl’s cell phone number. He passed it along to the director of aTorah learning program for young girls.