Private Avi Barry in his IDF uniform. Photo: IDF Spokesperson

I was welcomed at the basic training base Mahane 80 by Avi (Avraham) Barry, a young man at the age of 19, dressed in the IDF uniform. After a week of basic training, completed his high school diploma with an 80 average, two years of studies and four years living in Israel, Avi Barry, the first refugee who received Israeli citizenship, was drafted into the IDF and explains to me what its like to be Israeli.

He speaks Hebrew perfectly. “But sometimes when I shout ‘Attention’ when formally receiving the commander, I still hear people laughing. I don’t understand it,” he wonders, considering his foreign accent, “Before I do something, anything, I always think about how I would feel if someone would do the same to me.” He stresses this because it has always been one of his essential principles.

Getting to Israel

Avi (Avraham) was born in Guinea, in West Africa. His father died at the time he was born, his mother passed away when he was 13 years old, and has since lived with his uncle. Shortly after, he had a fallout with his uncle and found himself on the streets. He was living from hand to mouth, earning his bread “in order to eat and pass through the day,” he said. “I would organize the merchandise on the tables for a seller at the market,” he recalls, “who would tell me that his workers in Israel are earning a lot of money, about a thousand dollars a month. He offered me to join them. I realized this was my chance, and I agreed.” Shortly after, he received a ticket and some pocket money from the seller, who promised him a good job and a direct entry to the Holy Land.

After connecting in Morocco he landed in Cairo. Avi, then 15 years old, was abducted into a van along with other people he never met. “They stuffed us like sardines, and covered us with a blanket. My heart was beating fast; I didn't know what was going on.” That night the van stopped in the middle of the desert. “We arrived at a Bedouin tent where I met six girls, Russians and Ukrainians, around my age. I only spoke Fulani (common language in Guinea) and French. We spoke with our hands. One of them told me that not everyone gets into Israel in the end, and explained to me that it was possible that they lied to me for money. I was lost.” For 13 days they were held in a tent. “Two 15 year old Bedouins with a Kalashnikov (AK-47) rifle guarded us,” he said, “We only had water to drink, which had worms inside.”
  
In the Tel Aviv Central Bus Station, Avi found himself an orphan once again. The person he was supposed to wait for never showed up. After long anticipation, he turned and saw an Ethiopian, and with broken French directed him to a nearby factory where foreign workers were staying. At the factory he met a man, from the Ivory Coast, who spoke French fluently. After telling him all that he went through to get to Israel, “He offered me to move in with him for $200, and said he would help me contact the United Nations and get a residence permit in Israel,” he recalls. For a month, he worked at restaurants washing dishes for minimum wage, and continued to send letters to the U.N. based on his instructions. Finally, he received a letter inviting him to an interview.

“You’re not a refugee,” the UN Committee claimed, “Guinea is not in war.” The committee then paid attention to Avi’s age, being an orphan and his need to support himself. “Israeli children don’t work, they learn,” Avi replied. “The next day a UN representative came to my apartment. I had a tiny bag with shampoo, towel and shorts. I took it with me, and from there we went to the Shanti House.” With his arrival, the Histadrut HaNoar HaOved VeHaLomed (The Federation of Working and Studying Youth) youth movement joined as well, where he studied Hebrew and met new friends and teachers. He was granted a six month visa, which was later renewed by the UN for another six months. “After a year, I received a letter from the UN, they told me I had to go back to Guinea. Just the thought of going back and have his old employer demand back his money, terrified him. “It’s not like here where there are rules. So I left the Shanti House. Learning Hebrew already seemed unnecessary.”

Family and a Half

Avi was once again on his own, he returned to live in a tiny room, dirty and crowded with several other foreign workers, while working in the mornings and went out during the nights. “One night we went to a club, we got back at five o’clock,” he flinched slightly, “everyone fell asleep. Suddenly there were loud banging on the door; we thought someone was going to break in.” It was the Immigration Police. “Visa, visa, visa,” the police commanded us to stay in our rooms and to begin to take out our papers. None of them, of course, had any documents they were asking for. Avi gave them his visa, which was already expired. After resisting, he decided it to go with them. He was taken to a juvenile prison, in the outskirts of Hadera.

Upon his arrival to the prison, where other foreign minors who were also caught by the Immigration Police were taken to, Avi called Chen, one of the counselors at  the Histadrut HaNoar HaOved VeHaLomed youth movement. He arrived, immediately. “He asked me for the letter I wrote to the UN and instantly began to deal with the problems, so I could get out. The Bedouins in the desert took my passport, so the police gave me a travel document to sign so I would return to Guinea but I refused to sign it.” After one month, Chen returned with Susana, a teacher at the Kadoorie Agricultural High School who he met just at the perfect time. Susana, married with four children, heard Avi’s story and decided she wanted to adopt him. “The next day, the couple came in. I was a little worried, but experience taught me that it could be a great thing, there are many people who want to help.” Avi recalled.

The following events were described in a somewhat excited tone a childish voice as if he was experiencing it as he was talking.“They explained to me the laws, that I’m not allowed to drink and violence is not allowed. I tried to explain to them the type of person I was going to be, but how can you explain such a thing? I couldn’t. I signed a document, which was conditional. I was able to stay with the family in Israel until I was 18. At the time, I was almost 17 but I believed that they would help me extend my stay. I was happy. They released me and then we drove away.”

Hard Training

The words father, mother and siblings came rolling through my tongue naturally, almost accidental. Avi and his new parents arrived to his new home near the Sea of Galilee and only then did he realize that his new family was composed of whole-hearted giving individuals. Two days later Avi joined the Passover seder, for the first time in a long time, he felt belonged. "I did not feel comfortable yet, but I knew there was someone there for me." Avi started the school year and Hebrew quickly became usual in his mouth.  Several months later he passed his first matriculate exam in history. "I was happy just by the fact that I passed the test. It was very difficult and every time that I was too lazy my parents would continue to challenge me to learn. Just think for example of doing an exam in Polish."

At the same time, his family sent recurrent letters to the Interior Ministry in order to extend the duration of his stay and grant him citizenship. Avi persisted in his studies, got educated and prospered. He was granted another visa to enable him to finish his studies in the country. "In the end of my senior year, Meir Shetrit, then Minister of Interior, invited me to his office. He read the letters that my parents sent to him and he himself gave me a temporary resident card. I was confused, "A temporary resident, a red card?" I exclaimed. He fired back with growing impatience "Did you not learn civics in school?" He explained that I would have to renew my certificate every year and I would be prevented from certain civil rights which are only given to those with a blue ID card, such as voting in elections and recruiting in the army. "Certificate of second-class citizen," Avi concluded.

During the same time, the issue of recruitment was a hot topic in school and in his house. All of his friends from school which have Israeli citizenship joined the army. Avi, brother of an officer in the IDF and two soldiers, who also served in the IDF, had expressed great willingness to join."During my junior year in high school I was at a one week military program called Gadna and I finished the course outstandingly. I even got a diploma at home. There, I really felt a sense of belonging. Since then, I feel Israeli. I read newspapers every day I watch news in French, I want to know what is happening in my country. It amazes me how people in the army that are so young have all so much management power and influence. You go out of the army as an adult and know how to behave and how to manage." Several months after he got his temporary resident card, Avi arrived to the Interior Ministry with his parents to finally receive his blue citizenship card. The first thing he did after exiting the building was to go to the IDF recruitment offices to get himself into the IDF.   

Again Avi entered a new framework along with other experiences which were better this time.  Avi went to the recruitment center followed by many camera crews filming the moment. A few days later, he was interviewed in the newspaper. He asked his commander for permission to call his parents to tell them about his accomplishments. His commanders find Avi to be a very charismatic soldier but in the end he is a soldier like any other.  Avi learned about discipline during his high school Gadna program and also from his mother and father.  "Tomorrow we receive our guns, today we began learning how to use them," he shared. "I am a quiet person who doesn't get into too much trouble. I really put a lot of effort into this and I think that is important. I still do not tell my story in the army. I still don't feel I am entirely connected to the other soldiers yet.

I was offered to be an officer in the Paratroopers Brigade but due to problems in my foot I couldn't get into it. It is very important for me to become an officer, to manage. I still think about it, but I know it will be ok. "When I finish my service I want to study International Relations at a university. I want to engage in diplomatic relations between Israel and Guinea. I want to go back there and visit to help people in need, to visit my uncle who doesn't even know I am a citizen." When asked how he sees himself in the distant future, he replied without the slightest hesitation before I could pronounce the last syllable: "a leader."