Bedouin

Empowering Negev women

In Lakia, Israel, there are 160 women throughout the village who are responsible for designing and developing embroidery materials. (photo from Michelle Sitbon)

Our trip took us to the southern part of Israel, where we traveled to Beersheva. There is a small sign along the way, that you can miss quite easily, and it says Lakia. Lakia is one of the many Bedouin villages in this part of the country.

The Bedouins are a group of nomadic tribes who have lived in the Negev Desert for hundreds of years. Their heritage can be traced back to the traders along the ancient Spice Route, which happened to cross this region. Most traditional Bedouin hospitality experiences include camel riding, Bedouin food and staying inside a Bedouin tent overnight. However, in the village of Lakia, you are probably not going to find any of those things.

When you stop there, you are in for quite a different and unexpected experience. We arrived in Lakia in the middle of a hot summer day at the end of July and our main goal was to visit the Desert Embroidery. As we drove along the unpaved roads of the village, we quickly realized that Lakia might be small, but the Embroidery was extremely difficult to find. There was no sign telling us which direction to go, even though it is a tourist attraction.

When we finally found our destination, we got out of our vehicle and were warmly welcomed by Naama Al-Sana. She is the Bedouin woman who today runs the Desert Embroidery, and also founded the place together with other women from the community in 1996.

As we entered the visitor centre, we saw a display of beautiful art that was recently made by the local women. These women create the art in their homes in between their chores, and they use the money they earn from it to help support their families.

We were invited to sit inside a beautiful and colourful hand-woven tent, while Al-Sana offered us traditional Bedouin coffee that was scented with local spices. She was excited to hear that we had come all the way from Vancouver, as she has a sister who is currently in Canada, studying at the University of Toronto. Her sister often gives lectures about women in the Bedouin society, as a way to keep the history of this region alive.

The Desert Embroidery doesn’t offer the typical Bedouin tent experience, which includes being served a traditional meal. Instead, you will have the chance to contribute to the empowerment of Bedouin women in your own way. When you participate in one of the workshops or purchase any of their artwork, you will be actively improving the life, health and education of Bedouin women.

The Desert Embroidery was known as the Association for the Improvement of the Status of Women when it first began. The business has grown tremendously over the years and there are now 160 women throughout the village who are responsible for designing and developing embroidery materials. They also provide worker training and product marketing, and there is another group of women who work part-time to provide quality control checks on the products.

The system is very well organized. The women visit the Desert Embroidery twice a week to collect embroidery materials, drop off their finished items, learn about new patterns and designs, and participate in educational workshops and lectures. All of the women are allowed to choose how many hours they work, and they are paid by what they are able to produce within that time. A few of the women have chosen to preserve the traditional jewelry-making that was done by previous generations. They spent time learning how their mothers and grandmothers made jewelry and are now creating their own jewelry to include in the Desert Embroidery collection.

photo - With the help of the Desert Embroidery, Bedouin women in the Negev create the art in their homes, and use the money they earn to support their families — With the help of the Desert Embroidery, Bedouin women in the Negev create the art in their homes, and use the money they earn to support their families. *(photo from Michelle Sitbon)*

The Desert Embroidery is continuing to achieve its goal of providing employment and income for Bedouin women while empowering them and improving their self-confidence. More than 40 different artistic products can be found on display in the visitor centre, as well as other collaborations that help generate revenues for their work. An example of one of those collaborations is with Kibbutz Gan Masarik, which assists with strengthening the coexistence of Bedouin and Israelis.

The Desert Embroidery is also currently involved in improving the education and health of Bedouin children. And they want to expand to other Bedouin communities within the Negev, so that all Bedouin women can achieve economic independence. There are still so many challenges that women face in Bedouin society and this group is trying to help every woman overcome them.

The main reason I chose to visit Lakia was that I wanted to learn about this destination and the work that the Desert Embroidery is doing. My goal is to share what I have learned and to take other travelers to Lakia, so that they can see it firsthand. Of course, such activities aren’t only being done in the Negev region. In the northern part of the country, in the Galilee region, Israeli and Arab women also create traditional artwork to create a change in the lives of women.

I have made a visit to Lakia part of my itinerary in an upcoming small group tour to Israel, because I believe that travel can support and strengthen local communities. Since I am a travel agent who creates itineraries that are art-oriented, this is a perfect way to show everyone that they can appreciate art while making a difference in both children’s and women’s lives.

In the Mishnah Torah, Rambam organized the different levels of tzedakah, or charity, into a list from the least to the most honourable. Sometimes it is known as the “Ladder of Tzedakah.” The highest form of charity is to help sustain a person before they become impoverished, by offering a substantial gift in a dignified manner, by extending a suitable loan or by helping them find employment or establish themselves in business. These forms of giving allow the individual to not have to rely on others.

Projects such as those led by the Desert Embroidery can be found around the globe in places like Jordan, Mexico and Canada. When we travel, we know the many ways in which we benefit. However, I believe we should also try to find ways to benefit others as we travel, even in small ways. We should become more involved with local communities and support them in respectful ways that will, among other things, help them preserve their tradition and art.

Michelle Sitbon is an art travel adviser who organizes small group tours to Israel among other art-related destinations around world. For more information, visit yourartvoyage.com.

Crocheting as work

The label for an Iota rug and pouf hand-knit by Kefaya, a Bedouin woman. (photo from Iota)

Some of the best projects are born out of a desire for change – at least that was the case with Iota, an Israel-based textile company empowering unemployed women through the art of crochet.

Each one of the company’s rugs, pillows and home accessories is hand-crocheted by Bedouin women from their own homes, providing them with meaningful work and an independent source of income.

Bedouins are an Arab Israeli subgroup, located mainly in the south, with their own distinct culture and social norms. Historically, Bedouins lived a nomadic lifestyle, and many still herd livestock. Women traditionally tend to the house and children, resulting in high unemployment and poverty rates. A 2015 survey showed the employment rate among Bedouin women as 22%, compared to 32% for all Arab women.

Founded by Shula Mozes, an active social entrepreneur for more than 16 years, Iota aims to support the many women, all over the world, who are unable to work outside of the home due to cultural, religious and geographical reasons.

When she started the company in 2014, Mozes chose crochet, a self-taught hobby, as a means to create a business that could empower these women and fuel social change. With the help of creative director Tal Zur, she later discovered that not only is crochet a very versatile technique, but it has its own universal language that can be written and learned, like music notes.

“I realized that if I can learn to make things by crocheting small elements and putting them together, maybe we can teach women who don’t have work how to do the same,” Mozes said.

photo - Iota’s studio in Tel Aviv — Iota’s studio in Tel Aviv. (photo from Iota)

Iota now runs a small studio in Tel Aviv, where an all-female team of textile experts dreams up intricate designs. At least once a week, a member of the Iota team travels to Hura, a Bedouin village in southern Israel, to deliver raw materials to the women the company employs. Once complete, the finished products are transported back to Tel Aviv, each piece bearing a label signed by the woman who made it.

Currently, Iota employs three women in Hura, an intentionally small number, Mozes said, in order to maintain a strong commitment to each worker. “We have to respect their culture and empower the women slowly, so that they can work according to what they’re comfortable with,” she said.

Though centred on a 200-year-old technique, Iota’s designs are modern. The yarns used to create each piece are bespoke, developed in-house and produced in a local Tel Aviv factory. Mozes said that, by applying computerized designs, they’re able to create yarns that contain several different colours in the same thread, allowing the carpets to be made with one continuous string of yarn.

While Iota is currently only active in Israel, Mozes said she hopes to collaborate with other communities worldwide, which are experiencing high rates of female unemployment.

In January, Iota exhibited its collection for the third time at Maison & Objet, an international trade fair in Paris known for showcasing innovative design talents. The collection, ranging in price from 200 to 2,000 euros (from $315 to $3,150 Cdn), consists of colourful single-yarn rugs, oversized floor cushions, stools, one-of-a-kind swings and home accessories.

“I hope that, in the future, we will be able to take one of the women with us to an exhibition so she can experience the success of Iota firsthand,” Mozes said. “Without them, none of this would have happened.”

For more information, visit iotaproject.com.

Israel21c is a nonprofit educational foundation with a mission to focus media and public attention on the 21st-century Israel that exists beyond the conflict. For more, or to donate, visit israel21c.org.

Caring for Bedouins’ health

Dr. Rania Okby was in Vancouver last week, speaking to several groups, including students at King David High School. On May 1, she addressed a small gathering at the University of British Columbia.

Fittingly, this latter talk was held in the Clyde Hertzman Boardroom of Human Early Learning Partnership, which is, according to its website, “a collaborative, interdisciplinary research network” whose “research explores how different early environments and experiences contribute to inequalities in children’s development.”

photo - Dr. Rania Okby — Dr. Rania Okby *(photo by Cynthia Ramsay)*

Okby spoke about traditional and environmental factors that affect the health of Bedouin women in Israel. Currently doing a one-year obstetrics fellowship at Sunnybrook Health Science Centre at University of Toronto, Okby is a graduate of the Centre for Bedouin Studies and Development, Ben-Gurion University (BGU), and is part of the staff at Soroka University Medical Centre and faculty of health sciences at BGU, specializing in high-risk pregnancy.

David Berson, executive director the B.C. region of Canadian Associates of BGU, welcomed guests to the Hertzman Boardroom and presented a brief video of the Israeli university, while UBC professors Adele Diamond and Judy Illes chaired the event. Sally McBride of HELP gave a brief overview of her organization.

In introducing Okby, Diamond highlighted the difficulties of crossing between cultures, which can make “you no longer feel at home in any one because you’ve tasted a little bit of the other, and so you’ve changed. Not only is she forging a balance between Bedouin life and Western life, but she’s also forging a balance between being the mother of two girls, ages 7 and 5, and having an incredibly active career. And, she’s not only doing that, she’s forging a balance between clinical work, teaching and research.” To do any one of these things would be a job for a lifetime, said Diamond.

Okby’s presentation offered insight into some of the health challenges facing her community. “As Bedouin women, we are discriminated in Israel on three levels,” she said. First, by living in Be’er Sheva, which is a community on Israel’s periphery; second, by being a minority with a Jewish majority; and, third, by being women in a male-dominated culture. These and other conditions – such as the rapid change from being a semi-nomadic people to living a more stationary, Western lifestyle – influence both the physical and mental health of Bedouin women, and she went on to explain in what ways.

Defining a Bedouin as “someone born and raised in the desert,” Okby said there are Bedouin living around the world. “Being a Bedouin is a lifestyle, so it has nothing to do with religion, nothing to do with nationality,” she said. There are 200,000 to 220,000 Bedouin in Israel, about half living in recognized villages; the other half not. The Bedouin comprise about 25 percent of the total population in the Negev, and are a diverse group.

In the early years of Israel, explained Okby, about half the Bedouin did not agree to leave their land to settle in cities, and these tribes are still in a dispute with the government over land ownership. People who live in unrecognized villages are not permitted to build permanent homes, so live in metal houses. There is no, or little, electricity, access to health care or public transportation, few roads and a lack of educational infrastructure.

Okby presented a statistical picture of the situation of Bedouin women: 6.2 years average education, 14.5% never went to school, 10.4% have higher education, 10% are working women, the average age of marriage is at 18.6 years old and the number of children per woman is 6.13. “When I started medical school 18 years ago, the number was 10, so things are improving and the numbers are decreasing, but still it’s a lot of [children],” she noted. Consanguinity, marrying within the same family, is 60 percent, while polygamy is 34 percent, “which has a bad influence on the mental and psychological health of the women and the kids.”

Issues such as post-partum depression, which affects one in three Bedouin women, are a challenge to treat, as the general view of psychiatry is not positive among Bedouin communities. Another major health concern, said Okby, is high infant mortality: 12% among the Bedouin compared to 6.6% among the Arab and 2.8% among the Jewish populations of Israel. “These numbers – you cannot ignore it, it is very clear,” said Okby, attributing the high rate to genetic disease or malformation, among other factors. Because of their religious beliefs, most Bedouin women won’t terminate a pregnancy beyond 17 weeks, even if prenatal screening detects problems, she said.

In addition to traditional factors, environment-related ones also affect infant mortality, including infectious disease and hypothermia. From ages 1 to 4, there are 12.7 Bedouin kids per thousand births who die from trauma compared to 1.9 in the Jewish community, and most of these Bedouin children are living in the unrecognized villages. The injuries result from a lack of awareness as well as way of life, cooking on open fires, for example.

Then there is the increasing incidence of Western illnesses, like diabetes and obesity, which are affecting the Bedouin, with lesser activity, poor knowledge about nutrition, and poverty. “About 30% of the diabetic patients don’t have enough money to get their medication, they have to choose medicine or food.” As well, Bedouin women are more at risk of breast cancer, and the average age of diagnosis is higher than in the Jewish community.

“There are lots of obstacles for the Bedouin women for better health, but there are lots of things to do, and lots of things are being done,” said Okby.

There are two main groups who can improve the situation: the Bedouin and the Israeli government. The other two important players, she said, are BGU and Soroka hospital.

To make things better, more education (of men and women) is needed, said Okby, as are systematic changes: for example, increased public transportation and doing prenatal screening before 17 weeks. Already, the age for mammography screening has been reduced to 40 (from 50) and there are mobile mammography units. As well, folic acid is being added to the bread made and sold in Bedouin villages.

Regarding BGU, Okby spoke of its Centre for Bedouin Studies and Development. When it started 18 years ago, there were only five female students, she said. There are now 265 women and 167 men in the program, said Berson.

The program has developed and now, among the changes, it includes a preparatory year, said Okby, to help with the cultural transition from community to university. And there are others helping in the region, such as the Arab Jewish Centre for Equality, Empowerment and Cooperation-Negev Institute for Strategies of Peace and Development (AJEEC-NISPED), whose contributions Okby highlighted.

In the discussion period, it was noted that the Negev comprises 60% of the land of Israel, but only about seven percent of the population. Until recently a neglected part of the country, the army is relocating its main base there and other developments are literally changing the landscape.

“This is a really important side of Israel,” said Berson, “even though there are a lot of challenging issues with the Bedouin population, there is a lot of really good news, a lot of hope here, and it really dovetails with what’s going on in the desert with Ben-Gurion University.” He said that people who haven’t visited Be’er Sheva in the last few years would “be shocked to see the changes taking place there.”

Films offer glance at Bedouin life

A still from the movie Voices from El Sayed.

When one is a Bedouin living in southern Israel, ironies seem to multiply with regularity. Two relatively recent Israeli-made films bring this incongruous life into sharp focus.

In the first, Voices from El Sayed: A Snail in the Desert (2009, documentary), director Oded Leshem examines a minority within a minority – a special needs Bedouin group. In the second, Sharqiya (2012, drama), director Ami Livne focuses on an Israeli Bedouin who, although he has spent his young adult life protecting other Israelis – first as a soldier and then as a security guard – faces eviction from his land because the Israeli authorities do not acknowledge it as his.

Leshem focuses on both the social and technological challenges facing the deaf members of the El Sayed Bedouin. In an understated but convincing manner, Leshem makes this point: for people who are deaf, this Bedouin tribe is both heaven and hell.

Leshem presents a lot of information in his 75-minute film. For starters, he unearths this nugget: the El Sayed have the highest concentration of deaf people of any community in the world. Estimates are that this desert community located northeast of the Negev city of Be’ersheva has 3,000 tribal members and, of this number, 125-150 are deaf. Intra-marriage is high – 65 percent of El Sayed’s couples are somehow related – so deafness is, therefore, more often transmitted from generation to generation. Almost every family has a deaf family member.

In this village, deafness is acknowledged as a fact of life. Not only is it considered normal, but everyone in the film – hearing and deaf – knows and uses sign language. At first glance, deaf community members appear totally accepted and functioning comfortably within the group. There is always someone with whom to converse – but in which language does one communicate?

According to Leshem’s film, language is one of the major social challenges facing Israel’s minorities. The film notes that the older deaf members of El Sayed converse in their own form of signing: El Sayed Bedouin Sign Language (EBSL). A number of the younger members, however, have studied in schools outside the community. These schools fall under the jurisdiction of the Israeli Ministry of Education, so these Bedouin study Israeli Sign Language (ISL). In addition, these same young students learn to read and write in Hebrew, rather than in Arabic, their mother tongue.

There is no school for the deaf on tribal land: children are bused to a school in Be’ersheva. But not every deaf child attends or has attended this facility. As the audience learns, some young adults studied in the centre of the country. However, on the positive side, the film explains that Be’ersheva has a special early childhood class for the hearing challenged, which is taught by traditional Bedouin teachers.

The deaf young adult tribal members who speak in the film want to marry deaf partners. But in this strongly paternalistic society, their parents still have a lot of say in marital matches. Some of the hearing parents want their marriage-age children to break what they see as a chain of deafness, so they are interested in having their deaf offspring pair off with hearing mates.

Not only are there parents who want to alter the course of future generations, but there are those trying to improve the life of their offspring in the present. The movie depicts one set of hearing parents who decide that one of their children will be the first El Sayed member to undergo a cochlear implant.

The good news is that the Israeli health-care system will cover the cost of the surgery and the implant itself. But, as viewers soon grasp, this family faces many other obstacles. The first several months following surgery entail regular and frequent trips back to Be’ersheva’s Soroka Hospital. During these hospital visits, the parents learn how to encourage their toddler to listen in everyday situations. Both the mother and father accompany the child to the hospital. There, they work with a Hebrew-speaking professional staff. The father speaks and reads Hebrew fluently, but the mother does not. No Arabic translator is provided. This point is critical as, at home, the mother has the huge task of ensuring that all the other children participate in the training.

No less significant is the hospital staff’s lack of awareness of the overall situation in El Sayed. While Leshem’s camera reveals that high-tension wires stand in close proximity to the village, the film’s narrative discloses that El Sayed is not hooked up to the national grid. There is no electricity, except for the generators that power the village. Just as the hospital staff comes to terms with the family’s difficulty in keeping all the implant parts properly charged, so the audience grasps just how challenging this procedure is for this family.

El Sayed lacks what most Westerners would consider basic utilities or services. For the dispersed Bedouins living in areas of southern Israel, which successive governments have classified as “unrecognized,” not having electricity or running water is a common situation. Nowhere is that brought home more clearly than in Livne’s drama Sharqiya.

photo - a still from Sharqiya — A still from *Sharqiya*.

The story of Sharqiya centres around two brothers and the wife of one trying to live on family land. The land appears fairly inhospitable. Family members live quite minimally in one-room tin huts, serviced by a temperamental generator. In the barren surroundings, one brother herds a small number of goats, while Kamel Najer, the other brother and main character, works as a security guard in Be’ersheva’s central bus station.

Westerner viewers might wonder why it is so important to keep this undeveloped plot of land, especially when Israeli authorities offer compensation for leaving it. Coming from a Western society, it is also hard to get one’s head around the notion of inheriting land without documentation. But this is exactly what the Najer brothers claim: their family has lived on the land for generations.

In the film, viewers watch the authorities stand by, waiting to destroy the Najers’ homestead, as Kamel packs up cherished memorabilia from his army service. We witness this young Israeli Bedouin – who has felt enough sense of belonging to hold on to his army pictures and banners – have his living space made not just unfit, but non-existent. Livne makes it clear that if Israeli society does not appreciate the irony of this situation, it will not understand that such treatment puts the fragile foundation of Israel’s democratic structure at risk of collapse.

When the human and humane element is missing – as depicted by the Israel Land Authority’s tractor leveling the family’s meagre housing and corral – the cracks in society’s foundation deepen. The frustration and the disappointment do not fade out: in the closing shot, they are inscribed on Kamel’s face.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology.

More on the Bedouin

The following links are to position papers or websites of some of those involved in Israeli Bedouin affairs.

From the Israeli government: mmi.gov.il/static/HanhalaPirsumim/Beduin_information.pdf

From Jewish National Fund: www.kkl.org.il/eng/about-kkl-jnf/kkl-jnf-in-public-discourse/kkl-jnf-conferences/kkl-jnf-european-leadership-conference/kkl-jnf-position-bedouin

From a few nongovernmental organizations:

• adva.org/uploaded/NegevEnglishSummary.pdf

• dukium.org/eng/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/NCF-CounterClaims-Dec10.pdf

• acri.org.il/en/category/arab-citizens-of-israel/negev-bedouins-and-unrecognized-villages