There is one topic that I have been meaning to write about lately. It is concerning discrimination in Israel. You see, in Israel, and more specifically on the campus where we live, there are many nationalities. Among them are Ethiopian Jews. They are descendants of Be'er Sheba, an Ethiopian queen who heard about the wisdom that good 'ole King Solomon provided and decided to take advantage of his services, in more ways than one. The two eventually wed and so began a lineage of Ethiopian Jews. While here, I have befriended two of them, both women, and at one point even asked them to come out with us for a night on the town. Everything was great until we arrived at our destination, a bar/dance club called Golina located at the port in Tel Aviv. When we got to the entrance, my friends and I were let in without hesitation, but when the girls got to the front, they were stopped faster than a yellow Ferrari traveling 140 mph. I could not understand what the problem was. These were beautiful women who wanted to enter a club. What was the issue?
After immediately leaving, one of the girls, Hadas, explained to me the bigotry and racism that plagues the
On Friday night, some friends and I went our for Sushi, and after, visited Hadas at her work. She is a bartender at a bar called "R and B" in the outskirts of Tel Aviv. When we asked our white waitress at the sushi bar if she had ever been, she gave us a look of discontent right out of hell. "I would never go there, it's not for people like me," she said. Well, I had no idea what she was talking about until we got there.
The dimly lit "R and B" sign was only visible as we pulled up to the joint. When we got to the door, three out of shape security guards quickly folded their arms and protruded their chests at us. Only until I talked to the third one was I able to convey the message that as four white men, we meant no harm and were only there to visit our friend. As we entered and passed through two more security guards, a metal detector, and another guard at the top of the stairs, it dawned on me that we probably weren't their regular customers. This was an Ethiopian club, with no white people in sight. Nevertheless, we entered reluctantly and found a table.
For the next hour, I felt more uncomfortable than a whore
Looking back on this experience, I'm not quite sure how to and/or from which angle I should look at it. Is this how black people in the states feel on an everyday basis when among a room full of white people? Were we just getting the treatment that Ethiopian Jews get when they attempt to enter a white club in Tel Aviv? Or did we just come on a bad night? Either way, I can now add prejudiced to my list of emotions felt.