My Visit to Camp Ramah in … Ukraine

How did I end up visiting a Jewish summer camp in the war-torn country of Ukraine?

Last October, I saw a video of a Camp Ramah in Ukraine, called Camp Ramah Yachad, and was transfixed. Campers who looked like they were from Camp Ramah in Ojai having the time of their lives, but living through a horrific war where civilians are being targeted and their homes are being destroyed. I wanted to go there to see it for myself and to show the campers that they are part of something larger, a worldwide Jewish community that doesn’t leave anyone behind.  

My family and friends thought I was crazy. “It’s a war zone! You’re a father!” But I was undeterred.

Fortunately, I was not alone. Two friends from L.A. and others from Philadelphia and Israel wanted to join me, including Rabbi Leonid Feldman, the longtime rabbi of Palm Beach’s Temple Beth El (and fluent Russian speaker – he was born in Moldova during the Soviet era), and Rabbi David Golinkin, president of The Schechter Institutes of Jerusalem, which runs the camp. Our goal: To spend a Shabbat at the camp.

Shortly after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Golinkin’s Schechter Institutes established the camp, as well as a series of community centers and schools, in four cities across Ukraine. With an unknown number of Jews (estimated at between 100,000 – 200,000 people), Schechter thought it could have a deep impact. And it has, as I was soon to witness firsthand. 

After days of travel to cross the Ukrainian border by bus, we arrived at the small Ukrainian resort near Chernivtsi (in southwestern Ukraine) where the camp was being held this summer around midday on Friday, August 4th. 

Waiting to welcome us were Rabbi Irina Gritsevskaya, the director of the camp, and Igor Babkin, the camp manager. 

“Rabbi Irina,” as she is called, oversees Schechter’s operations in Ukraine (in addition to Neve Schechter in Tel Aviv). She is tireless and committed, brimming with joy and enthusiasm, a smile on her face.

Igor is a native of Ukraine who now lives in Israel.  With a twinkle in his eye and a booming voice (perfect for addressing a camp full of kids!), he never speaks sharply, only with love. He brings a combination of humor, passion, and a nurturing soul to camp. When he is not at camp, he spends his days helping at-risk teens.

We walked outside to tour the camp. Our first stop was at a meeting with the madrichim (counselors). One by one, we introduced ourselves. Most Ukrainians speak Russian and Ukrainian fluently, and the madrichim were no exception (also speaking surprisingly fluent Hebrew from Schechter Institute schools the attended). But as we learned, this was a country experiencing a national awakening. They would rather speak broken English than fluent Russian. 

After making introductions, we toured the chugim (activities) in progress. First stop: A first aid class. One of the two doctors on staff this summer was showing kids what to do when someone loses an arm or a leg, starting with the best bandage to use to staunch the flow of blood. As a madrich accompanying us explained: “You have to stop the blood loss, which is huge if it’s a leg. So the most important thing that volunteers are buying or asking for is this kind of bandage.” The doctor then showed the campers how to apply a tourniquet.

Next, we moved on to a baking class taking place inside the main building. There, a young boy around 11 years old and transfixed by his phone said (without once looking away from the screen): “Hi, my name is Danny. Would you like to see these videos I shot?” Our hearts broke as he showed us videos he took showing apartment buildings less than a kilometer from his home, all heavily damaged by missiles, and the hood of a car that had been shredded by shrapnel.

Danny told us he’s from Kharkiv, which we knew had seen some of the most intense fighting of the war since the invasion began, with Russia targeting population centers with cluster munitions, missiles and artillery. Later, I saw Danny was glued to his phone again. When I mentioned it to Rabbi Irina, she assured me that people like Danny receive the support they need from a staff psychologist. 

Many campers are refugees, like Danny, and many of them live in Poland, Germany and other European countries and in Israel.  Two campers living with families in Spain traveled for five days by train to join their friends at camp.

Next, we watched an art and dance class.  In the latter, about 20 people were doing a synchronized dance to a popular Israeli song.  To our surprise, the irrepressible Irina jumped right in and knew all the moves!

At Kabbalat Shabbat services, the campers sang and performed dances and skits (with typical nervous giggling from younger campers) with the enthusiasm and ruach (spirit) one would expect to see from any happy camper. Waves of campers presented us with gifts, including a poster with the message: “Thanks for visiting our dear Ramah Yachad, a place where every summer a new chapter of our fairy tale begins” and hamsas made by the campers. 

Before lighting Shabbat candles together, we took a moment to introduce ourselves through Leonid. In his impish fashion, Leonid introduced fellow traveler from L.A. Jonathan Anschell, General Counsel of Mattel, as “’Barbie’ producer”! 

Ryan Gosling and Margot Robbie would not have elicited more excitement than did this announcement.  As soon as the service ended, dozens of campers swarmed Jonathan to take selfies with him. “Have you met Margot Robbie?? Have you met Ryan Gosling??” Jonathan, as always, was a terrific sport and posed for selfies and accepted hugs from the kids.

Jonathan wasn’t the only “celebrity.”  Really, we all were.  The campers posed for selfies with all of us and dispensed hundreds of hugs. They were just excited that a bunch of Americans flew halfway around the world to be with them.

But Jonathan wasn’t the only “celebrity.”  Really, we all were.  The campers posed for selfies with all of us and dispensed hundreds of hugs. They were just excited that a bunch of Americans flew halfway around the world to be with them.

One camper who was about 10 years old repeatedly emerged from the crowd throughout our stay to give us hugs. He never said anything, really, though I kept thanking him and telling him how nice it was to see him again. I’m not sure how much he understood and he didn’t say much back. I think the hugs conveyed everything he needed to know and wanted to tell me.

After lighting candles and enjoying a sumptuous Shabbat dinner, the entire chadar ochel (dining hall) was filled with singing and slapping of tables as everyone recited the Birkat Hamazon (Grace After Meals).  Afterward, the campers, counselors, and even some staff joined hands and danced with pure joy around the entire chadar ochel.

The following morning, a 12-year-old girl was reading from the Torah for the first time. Afterward, she was so overcome with emotion that she broke down and cried. Luckily, her mother was present (she lives in nearby Chernivtsi) and they hugged for a long time, rocking back and forth and sobbing in joy.

After Shabbat lunch, the camp assembled in rows of chairs and we answered questions from the campers. One asked why we came to Camp Ramah Yachad. I told them that we wanted to show our support and that the Jewish people are connected to each other wherever they live. Later, we spoke to the kids in breakout sessions where we could connect to the campers in smaller groups. I found myself learning their names and learning about their lives.

The campers were eager to learn about America. “We hear there is a lot of crime in America.  Have you ever been robbed?” “What is the average salary in America?” “What does private school tuition cost in America? Do you have to wear uniforms in school?” “Who’s the biggest pop star in America?”

A little boy sitting immediately to my left asked, “Were you ever bullied?” Another asked: “Does America have the strongest army in the world?” This I answered in the affirmative, in part to reassure the campers who of course know that America is standing behind Ukraine. “In a world of Hitlers and Vladimir Putins, America has the job of maintaining the strongest army. It’s like the Wild West and America is the sheriff,” I explained. “I hope someday this won’t be necessary.” 

The 90 minutes allotted to the breakout sessions went very quickly and before I knew it, we were summoned to a Havdalah ceremony starting under some trees nearby. The campers formed two or three concentric circles and held hands. As we approached, the campers spontaneously opened the outer circle and invited us to join them, alternately holding hands or standing with arms over each other’s shoulders. As in any Camp Ramah, Havdalah was a special time and the ruach again manifested itself in the joyful singing of all the campers.

After the candle flame was extinguished, my fellow travelers and I were swamped by kids requesting selfies and hugs (we each must have received 100 hugs a day!) and also something new – requests to sign the shirts on their backs or their baseball caps or even the backs of their hands. They even had permanent ink markers at the ready!  Unable to come up with anything more clever, I wrote “Ψ from America” on every shirt, hat, and hand that was offered.

As if instinctively, the campers suddenly turned away and migrated through a path in the nearby forest down to a small lake.  As we walked after them, I tried to engage Igor a bit, to learn more about him. I noticed that throughout our visit, he kept opening doors for us and saying in his booming voice: “Welcome to the HOTEL California!” so I asked him what his favorite band is. “The BEATLES!” he replied. 

“Which song is your favorite?” I asked.

“’Yesterday’!” Then he proceeded to sing the lyrics: “Yesterday, all our troubles seemed so far away!” I was impressed. He knew the words instantly in English and he had a nice voice. Good choice, I thought.

But then it hit me: These weren’t just the words to his favorite song. They were words that likely reflected the sentiments of all the campers, counselors, and staff in an unbelievably scary and difficult time for them, their families, friends, and neighbors.

As we entered the forest, I noticed that the path was lined with rainbow colored LED lights pulsating to soft electronic dance music. Through the trees, I could see an enormous bonfire by a small lake.

The campers were sitting on the ground around the fire, furiously writing notes to each other. This was an end-of-camp activity called “The Postman,” where the campers write secret, usually anonymous notes and have friends deliver them to other campers (and occasionally counselors). Some were love notes to fellow campers.  Others were notes of gratitude. At one point, Rabbi Irina’s son Adam walked over and handed me a note that read: “David thank you for talking to me it was interesting.”

At another point, a former camper, who is now an officer in the Ukrainian Army, came over to me with a sealed, teal-colored bag. “I have gift for you from Ukrainian Army!” I thanked him and opened it and found three sealed bags of army rations inside! We opened one of them and found individually sealed packages of crackers, cookies, meat, and other food items for a meal. It even contained a tea bag and a small container of Ukrainian honey! I was very touched by the gesture.

After receiving more hugs, we said our goodbyes to the campers and left them by the lake. We had to leave very early the next morning to get back over the border in time for a flight back to Bucharest, where we would return to our homes and families.  

I was told this evening marked the beginning of the difficult period in which all of the campers would be saying tearful goodbyes to each other, since camp would be ending on Monday. I felt a sadness of my own as we left them by the lake. It was like a wonderful dream that was ending.

Back at the hotel, my fellow travelers and I gathered to reflect on the day and on the trip.  And we received a surprise guest – the Ukrainian Army officer! I had invited him to join our group back at the hotel later that evening, but wasn’t sure he would come.

Through Leonid’s translation, we asked the officer about the war. He declined to give details on anything. For example, we had heard that he had received a very special medal from one of Ukraine’s top generals, but he would not tell us why.

He did tell us that he had been given leave to return to camp for the weekend. He also told us that he had gone to university to study military tactics and history – following in the footsteps of his parents, both career military. He said he went in an act of rebellion because they had urged him not to go. After graduating, he became a bartender. When the Russians invaded last year, he was already a lieutenant and was put in charge of a company of soldiers. Rabbi Irina had told us that he had been in Israel a week ago and could have remained there.  “Why did you come back?” we asked.  

To him, the answer was obvious: He has to fight for his country.

“What will you do after the war?”

“That is too far in the future. When we get there, I will figure it out.”

We asked if there is antisemitism in the Army. “No,” he said. 

He showed us a picture of himself in his uniform and pointed to a Star of David he had on a ribbon under his name. He told us that he made the ribbon and put it on the uniform. “No one has ever said anything about it.” He said he wore the Star of David so that Russian soldiers would see who they are fighting, “that we are not Nazis.”

After we returned to our rooms, I called my wife and told her about my day. I was surprised to find myself getting choked up repeatedly, unable to get some of the words out as tears welled up in my eyes.  We agreed to speak later, as it had been a long, intense day.  

And that was just after one day. The campers, counselors and staff live it every day, and have been since the Russians invaded in February 2022 (though to Ukrainians, the war began when Russia seized Crimea in 2014).

Back in L.A., as I read the latest news of the fighting in Ukraine, I pray that these wonderful children, campers, counselors, staff members, and the soldier who visited with us, are staying safe. 

Back in L.A., as I read the latest news of the fighting in Ukraine, I pray that these wonderful children, campers, counselors, staff members, and the soldier who visited with us, are staying safe. Despite or because of all the horrors and challenges, these young campers come from all over Ukraine and from outside Ukraine simply because they love it. Like them, a part of me wishes I could go back to see them again and show my family what a special place it is. Camp Ramah … in Ukraine.

David Kekst is an independent producer in Los Angeles.  He currently serves as the Vice-Chair of The Schechter Institutes Board of Directors.