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Israel, my second home
This Is the Memoir of a Chinese Worker Who Worked in Israel 20 Years Ago
From Wuhan to Israel: The Beginning of My Journey
I am Chinese. I’m from Wuhan, Hubei. I worked in Israel for five years, from November 2001 until 2006. Since then, I have considered Israel my second home. Back then, in my 40s, I was full of energy and vitality, having trained as an amateur weightlifter with Hubei’s provincial team. I was strong and fit.
I only completed elementary school, and just as I was about to start middle school, our district held a sports competition where I won two gold medals and a silver. After that, teams for swimming, javelin, and long-distance running all wanted me, but I ended up joining the weightlifting team. That was in 1979. Back then, we received subsidies, not stipends—eight yuan a month and 20 kilos of ration coupons. Just as I was about to become a full-time athlete, I got injured and had to return home, which ended my career. But the strength I had trained for remained with me.
In 2001, I went to Israel after passing a construction-related exam with the Wuhan Construction Group’s Overseas Department. It cost me 70,000 yuan to go to work abroad. At that time, people from Fujian were paying 100,000 yuan individually. I remember the first group from Wuhan that went in July 2001 they each paid 28,000 yuan, the second group’s cost increased to 52,000 yuan, and by the time I went, it had risen to 70,000 yuan. I was part of the third group and was assigned to lead a team of over 30 people on our way to Israel.
*(Since China and Israel signed the Agreement Between the Ministry of Commerce of the People’s Republic of China and the Ministry of Interior of the State of Israel on Recruiting Chinese Workers for Short-Term Employment in Specific Sectors in Israel in 2017, the service fee paid by workers to the labor recruitment agencies participating in the pilot program should not exceed $1,000, or approximately 3,710 shekels, around 7,000 yuan according to the current exchange rate 1 Chinese Yuan (CNY) is equivalent to approximately 0.53 Israeli New Shekels (ILS).)
A New Beginning as a Stranger
We first took a train from Wuhan to Beijing, then flew to Israel. Our group with around 30 people, Mr. Gao from Wuhan City Construction Group’s Overseas Department asked me to lead the group, saying that as long as I got everyone to Israel safely, it would be fine. We helped each other, and once we arrived, the representatives Mr. Lin and Mr. Chen from a Fujian company in Israel took over. We were bussed from Ben Gurion Airport to a small residential area behind the Yehuda Market in Jerusalem. The housing was cramped, two people shared, and each of us was given 300 shekels for living expenses, which were later deducted from our salaries.
A few days later, everyone was assigned to different construction sites. On the third day, a few of us from Wuhan were sent to a large site in northern Jerusalem. It was a foundation project, and judging by the size, it was going to be a tall building. It was my first time working abroad, and everything felt new and exciting. I remember an Israeli youth sitting high up and shouting, “Yalla!” That’s when I learned that “yalla” means “hurry up” in Hebrew.
Five Years In Israel: From Construction Novice to Skilled Craftsmen
My boss was a Jewish man who lived in Jerusalem, and my foreman was an Arab man. During my time working in Israel, I worked alongside Jewish, Arab, Palestinians, Romanian, Bulgarian, Turkish, and former Soviet workers, and of course, Chinese workers. We all worked together harmoniously, helping one another when needed.
I could communicate in basic Hebrew. Though my pronunciation wasn’t perfect, we could understand each other. Over time, I learned to do everything on an Israeli construction site—reading blueprints, tying rebar, setting up formwork, you name it. I even learned to work with gypsum board, paint, plumbing, and electrical work. After five years in Israel, I could do almost everything. Back in China, I had only worked on the main structure of buildings, but in Israel, I learned to do everything.
When I first arrived, I was working on the main structure, but my boss saw I was good with detailed work, so he had me focus on interior decoration. I became well skilled at it, making everything look beautiful, and my boss was pleased. So I became the go-to person for interior work. If there wasn’t any interior work available, I’d go back to working on the main structure. In Israel, you got paid by the hour, so if there wasn’t work on one site, the boss would send you to another. He always made sure I had at least 10 hours of work each day.
After about seven or eight days of learning rebar work, I was able to handle it on my own without needing any more help. Within a month, I was able to read blueprints and working independently. I didn’t know how to lay tiles before, but I learned how to do it in Israel. I first assisted the tile workers, and within a few days, I was laying tiles myself. After about 10 days, I could lay tiles on my own, and as time went on, I could read blueprints and do the work confidently.
I can say without hesitation that I could handle anything on an Israeli construction site. Whether it was reading blueprints, tying rebar, setting up formwork, or gypsum partitions, I could do it all. If there’s something you don’t know, you just learn it—it’s pretty simple.
A Special Bond with My Jewish Boss
*I don’t speak English, nor can I write in Hebrew. The names of my Jewish boss, Arab coworkers, friends, and others mentioned here are based on the names we used for each other in daily life. David was the name of my first boss in Israel, and out of nostalgia, I chose “David” (דוד) as my Hebrew name when I started learning Hebrew again over ten years later—David from Wuhan.
My boss, David Goen (I don’t know how to write his name in Hebrew; I only remember how we used to call him. I really hope to meet him again), David Goen was Jewish. Let me tell you about him. During lunch at work, he would sometimes take my meal and eat it, then call his secretary to buy me lunch. He just wanted to bond with us Chinese workers. That’s how he was. One time, we were pouring concrete late into the evening, around seven o’clock. The workers were exhausted, and there was still one more truckload of concrete to pour. I asked my boss to buy us some food, but instead, he bought two cases of beer and gave each of us a sandwich. That’s just the kind of person he was—easygoing and generous.
David was a prominent figure in Jerusalem’s construction industry. Suppliers said he never delayed payments, making them all eager to work with him.
David was a good man. He had an excellent reputation as a boss, probably retired by now. He was older than me—I’m 57, and he must be over 60 now. He never delayed paying wages. Only once, during my time there, was payment delayed by a week. David personally apologized to each worker—Chinese, Romanian, Arab—explaining that the company was facing financial difficulties and that wages would be a week late. When the wages came, he handed an envelope to each worker personally and shook hands, saying, “I’m sorry.” As the chairman of a company, he went out of his way to do something like that. I had never expected workers to be treated with such respect in a capitalist country.
Our Foremen
David Abran is the younger brother of David Goren, and he’s also a boss. David Tobru seems to be their cousin and works as a foreman, primarily responsible for painting. I still remember Tobru’s warehouse, which was built near a mountain. Every time it rained, water would seep into his house. Many people had tried to fix the waterproofing, but the issue persisted. One day, he asked me to come over and see if I could solve the problem. I told him I could, but I would need to completely redo the waterproofing on the entire wall. I worked at his place for about ten days, all in the evenings after work. I fixed the wall and applied two layers of waterproofing. Since then, the warehouse hasn’t leaked. Tobru praised me in front of everyone, saying, “vuao budao doufu” meaning solid work leads to thorough solutions.
We had an Arab big foreman who was in charge of all the Arab foremen and managed many construction sites, including several in Jerusalem. He was the most senior foreman among the Arabs named Amushaban responsible for main construction work, he had about 6-7 junior Arab foremen under him across several construction sites. Whenever Amushaban was on any site, all the formen must follow his instructions, except for David Tobru. However, Tobru also respected Amushaban highly, so everyone called Amushaban ‘second boss’.
He was very kind and would always tell us to rest when we were tired because we, as Chinese workers, tended to keep working non-stop. He would personally make coffee for us and invite us to take breaks. Another Arab foreman was named Mustafa, and we also had a Romanian-Jewish immigrant foreman named Alben. All our foremen treated the Chinese workers very well.
A foreman’s main responsibilities were to read building plans and oversee the construction accordingly. This was the same in Israel. Workers generally followed the foreman’s instructions based on architectural drawings. While I found it difficult to read large blueprints independently, I was comfortable with smaller, simplified drawings. Previous foremen not only drove us to the construction site and assigned tasks but sometimes helped with the work as well. More often, they wandered around the site, occasionally returning to check on us and push us to work faster. Sometimes, they’d make coffee or tea for everyone.
An Arab Foreman’s Protection: Kindness Amid Cultural Differences
We had a well-educated Arab foreman named Heller, who specialized in gypsum board partitions. He was a graduate of Hebrew University, a cultured and diligent man. Some Palestinian workers often bullied us Chinese workers, stealing our money and phones. During lunch breaks, some Palestinian workers would sneak over, open our clothes, and steal our money. Even when we caught them, we didn’t dare speak up and would quietly warn each other instead. Not all Palestinian workers stole, but some did, while others turned a blind eye. When Heller was around, he would harshly reprimand the thieves, but most of the other Palestinian workers ignored it.
Whenever the Palestinian workers bullied us, Heller would step in and reprimand them. He would tell them not to harass us, explaining that we had come from far away and had no family here. We were very grateful for his decency and protection. Whenever Heller made coffee, he always served us first. He was a rational and considerate man with a strong sense of decency.
Some said that only the uneducated would steal, rob, and bully foreigners. They didn’t dare to bully the Romanians because the Romanians would fight back, but they often picked on the Bulgarians and us. Heller was always kind to us, but there was only so much he could do. I, too, had my phone and money stolen by Palestinian workers, but at the time, I didn’t dare speak up for fear of retaliation.
For example, one day while we were working, the Palestinian workers were goofing off. Suddenly, the boss arrived, but we weren’t aware of it. They quickly communicated via walkie-talkies, grabbed our tools, and told us to rest. When the boss arrived, they pretended to work, making it seem like we were the ones slacking off, and the boss believed them.
At that time, Israeli and Chinese banks didn’t have direct connections, so we had to send money through Palestinian-controlled areas. Many workers saved up three to six months’ wages, and when people found out, they started robbing the Chinese workers. I had a colleague from Wuhan who lost four months’ wages in a robbery. The incident even made it into the Israeli newspapers.
Our relationship with the Palestinian workers improved significantly when the head foreman, known as the “second boss,” stepped in. They called him “Second Boss” Amushaban because he had shares in the company. Amushaban lived outside the Old City, in the eastern area where most Palestinians resided. We had even attended his daughter’s wedding and given a gift. I heard that Amushaban had worked for David’s family since he was young, and David’s father had also been a boss. Amushaban was highly respected among the Palestinian workers and held a position of great standing in their community.
There were a few Palestinian workers who didn’t just steal—they robbed openly. Eventually, I heard that they were fired by the head foreman, Amushaban. One day, while I was with a Chinese worker he was robbed, and we immediately reported it to the foreman. As a result, Amushaban fired the two responsible Palestinian workers. These weren’t petty thieves—they were brazen robbers, and the other Palestinian workers didn’t dare say a word. During lunch breaks, they even searched our clothes for money and valuables.
As we gradually learned the language, the situation improved. Eventually, we were able to speak directly with the Palestinian workers. When they tried to steal money, we confronted them, explaining that the hard-earned wages of Chinese workers should not be taken lightly. With our growing language skills, they slowly stopped bullying us. Being able to communicate fluently with the boss, foreman, and even the Palestinian workers meant the troublemakers no longer dared to harass us. Initially, our lack of language skills made us easy targets, but once we had the courage to speak up, they became intimidated.
The Foreman’s Three Strikes: Earning Respect on the Job
There was a young man from Wuxi named Zhao who was transferred to our site. He had graduated from university in Beijing, majoring in explosives, and was sent to Israel working as a translator.
One day, we were trying to break a large rock at the site. A few of us tried for a long time without success. Then our Jewish foreman, David Tobru, came over and said, “I can break that rock with three strikes.” Zhao didn’t believe him and jokingly bet 200 shekels. Tobru studied the rock for a bit, found a crack, and with three strikes, broke it. Zhao lost the bet, but Tobru let him off easy, just asking him to buy some snacks so we could all enjoy. It was a small moment, but it showed how we all got along well on the site—Jews, Arabs, Chinese, and Romanians.
From “Enemies” to Friends: A Reconciliation with Romanian Coworkers
Our boss David was incredibly thoughtful. He arranged a three-day trip to the Dead Sea for me, my Chinese coworker Kang also from Wuhan, and five Romanian construction workers. He hired a car to take us there, and although we handled our own food and lodging, our Romanian friends took care of all the details, and we split the costs evenly. They bought ingredients, made skewers, and packed them in a cooler with ice, ensuring we had plenty to eat and drink. When the beer ran low, they even had the foreman, Alban, bring more from Jerusalem, with the boss covering the fuel expenses. Every day, he called to check in, asking if we needed anything. It was genuinely heartwarming.
With the Romanians, at the beginning we had some arguments, even fights. As for why they did this, perhaps it was because they felt powerful and wanted to bully us. Some of them enjoyed fighting, especially since they believed the stereotype that all Chinese knew kung fu. They forced us into fights, and though we didn’t want to, we had no choice but to defend ourselves. It wasn’t serious combat—they just wanted to see if we really knew kung fu.
Over time, our relationship with the Romanian workers improved. At first, there were conflicts while living together, but after inviting them to share meals with us, the tension eased. Eventually, we became good friends. I invited them for meals, and they would invite us back. Slowly, we became even close. And on the site, if the Palestinian workers pick on us Chinese, the Romanians would always stand up for us.
Life on a Farm: Working with Thai Laborers
After about ten days working construction, I was reassigned, along with a Chinses coworker Jun, to a kibbutz farm. Our boss was a Jewish man named Roy Arilas, and our Foreman was a Thai worker named Morley. The living conditions were good, and we were comfortable.
Boss Roy would put all kinds of fruits in a basket by the gate, and grapefruit was the most abundant. He told us to help ourselves. Every day, we worked alongside the Thai laborers, learning a lot about farming. After three months, I realized just how big the farm operation was.
The boss would leave some fruit by the roadside for the poor or for passersby, and that really impressed me—this act of generosity was something I hadn’t seen before.
Drip Irrigation: A Miracle of Israeli Agriculture
After working on an Israeli farm for three months, I learned that Israel is the world’s second-largest exporter of flowers, with the top exporter being the Netherlands. It amazed me that such a small country, mostly covered by desert, has ranked second globally in flower exports—at least at that time. Their drip irrigation technology, invented by Israelis, is truly impressive, and I respect it deeply.
Our foreman, Moli, had worked in Taiwan and could speak Mandarin with a Fujian accent. He explained that the water used for irrigating the fields wasn’t suitable for drinking, so drinking water was always brought along in dedicated containers. That’s when I learned that every household in Israel has two separate water systems: one for washing, irrigation, and other non-drinking purposes, and another specifically for drinking, with clean water in the kitchen and dining areas.
The Kindness of a Jewish Farm Owner: Making Everyone Feel Welcome
Our farm boss was a kind Jewish man who grew grapes, cherry tomatoes, and raised chickens—huge white ones, weighing 30 to 40 kilos, like turkeys. We helped him maintain the chicken coops, clean up, and feed them. His grape fields were vast, mostly used for wine production, but he also grew other crops and flowers. We’d help prune the plants, pack them into boxes, and then they’d be processed and sold.
When I started, my wage was between 800 and 1,000 US dollars, but over time, it rose to 1,200 or even 1,800 dollars. At my peak, I earned over 2,000 dollars with overtime. Wherever I worked, I gave my best, and the bosses always liked me. When we left, our farm boss even gave me and my Chinese co-worker each of us a mobile phone as a farewell gift—it was the first mobile phone I ever owned in Israel.
Life Philosophy in Israel: Hard Work and Courage
When you work in construction, you need to be hardworking, brave, confident, and smart. This isn’t just true in Israel—it applies everywhere. If you work hard and do a good job, people will like and respect you. But if you don’t know what you’re doing, no one will appreciate you—it’s that simple. It’s the same in China—if you can’t do the job, the boss will get frustrated.
In construction, strength is essential, but so is self-protection, especially when working at heights. You need to be able to quickly judge if something is dangerous. For example, construction sites are full of nails, and if you’re not careful, you’ll step on one. Experienced workers know how to avoid them. If you step on a nail, you need to use a wooden board or the sole of your shoe to make the wound bleed. Otherwise, you could get tetanus, which might result in amputation or even death. I once had a colleague back in China who stepped on a nail but didn’t treat it in time, eventually contracting tetanus. His foot had to be amputated, and in the end, he didn’t survive. The simplest way to handle this is to make the wound bleed, using your blood to flush out any rust or dirt the nail might have introduced. If handled properly, the wound won’t be a serious issue.
Confidence, you also need confidence—without it, you can’t get things done. Yes confidence matters greatly.
The Moment of Courage on the Construction Site
One day, a large concrete pouring operation was scheduled at a construction site in Jerusalem, which belonged to David Ablan. For large-scale projects, Ablan needed additional support. His brother, David Goen, had to come to the site and call on us for help. The concrete was too thick, and the pump machine was struggling to work. There seemed to be a hard object in the funnel, possibly something that had solidified a bit. The blockage was quite high up, and no one could reach it. A crane was needed to lift someone up to poke it with a steel rod—simple enough. Both the chairman, David, and the chief consultant were present. They even asked, ‘What’s up? Just lift someone up with the crane and poke it, and it’ll be fine, right?’ They asked three times, but none of the workers on the site dared to go up.
I volunteered to go up and stood on the crane hook, holding a thick steel rod, and after three pokes, the blocked funnel cleared. David Goen, the boss, gave me a hug—that’s their custom—and asked me what I wanted. I said to get beer and pastries for every worker on the site. The reason I asked for beer was because my Romanian coworkers loved it. The boss immediately had someone arrange the purchase. The boss’s secretary—a very beautiful Jewish girl—also gave me a hug and a kiss. Everyone at the site was incredibly envious. She hugged and kissed me for quite a while. I was so embarrassed, my face turned red, and I couldn’t escape even if I tried. The boss was very happy, clapping loudly, and all the workers applauded for me.
Be attentive, bold, and smart when handling any problem. Don’t be afraid—fear won’t solve anything.
Is Israel Safe?
In 2002, I witnessed the first terrorist attack in Jerusalem’s Yehuda Market. It was a Palestinian woman who detonated a suicide bomb, the first of its kind in Israel’s history. I had just said goodbye to three coworkers from Fujian when I heard the explosion. Two of them died, and one was injured.
That day was a Friday. We worked in the morning as usual, and in the afternoon, I went to the Yehuda Market to buy groceries. At the time, three of my fellow townsmen were waiting for the bus there. After greeting them, I was about to head home. We hadn’t walked far when suddenly, there was a loud explosion. Bus No. 8, which had just passed us and arrived at the station, exploded. It was the first female suicide bombing in Israeli history.
Before this, Israel didn’t conduct body searches on Muslim women. But after that incident, especially around the Old City border, security checks began to include women.
At the time, there were three of our friends from Fujian at the station. If we had stayed to chat with them a bit longer, we would have been caught in the blast too. We had only walked about ten meters when we suddenly felt a strong push, knocking us to the ground. I thought someone was joking with us, but when I looked back, I saw that the bus had exploded. Two of the Fujian men died, and one was injured. I witnessed it all with my own eyes.
One of my colleagues, a fellow from Hubei, told me we needed to leave quickly in case there was a second explosion. I didn’t want to leave at first, but he dragged me away. As we reached a corner, a police officer on a motorcycle came around the bend and fell off. I helped him lift his motorcycle but didn’t dare pick up his gun, which had been flung far away. I only helped with his motorcycle, which was one of those heavy-duty bikes that are difficult for one person to lift. When I told him we were Chinese, he was very happy to hear that.
Was I scared? I was not afraid at all. After the explosion, all the Israeli military and police rushed to the scene to take control of the situation. They were incredibly united. They risked their lives to rush to the blast site and maintain order. We continued taking the bus to work every day as usual. Our boss gave us monthly bus passes, and everything remained on schedule.
Israel feels very safe. Wherever there are Israeli military or police, it’s secure. Even after experiencing this terror attack firsthand, I didn’t feel any fear—not at all. After that incident, Israel began thoroughly examining Muslim women entering and exiting the country. Before the bombing, they hadn’t been subject to searches, but afterward, security checks became mandatory.
Commuting to the Construction Site: Memories of Jerusalem’s Buses
In 2001, electric bikes weren’t a thing yet. Our boss would send a car to pick us up at 7 a.m. and take us to the construction site. After work, the car would bring us home. One time, a conflict arose between a Chinese coworker and a Palestinian driver, and the driver refused to pick us up anymore. So we all bought monthly bus passes and took public transportation for several years after that.
This is the access pass for Hebrew University. Without it, the university security won’t let you in. I once worked on a project at Hebrew University, renovating a lab classroom, and we needed this pass to go in and out. I’ve kept it ever since. I used to take the bus everywhere every day, so I pretty much know my way around Jerusalem, even till now.
Stories of Chinese Workers in Israel
Back then, we’d buy a Chinese-language magazine called Beijing-Tel Aviv from Roma Street. It reported all sorts of events happening in Israel. One story was about a construction worker from Sichuan who went to work illegally in a Palestinian area.
It’s said that during a standoff between Israeli military police and Palestinians. The Palestinians made him throw stones at Israeli soldiers, offering to pay him for each stone, regardless of whether he hit the target. An Israeli soldier of Chinese descent discovered what was happening. He rescued the Chinese worker, took him to the hospital for a check-up, and asked him about what had happened. Upon seeing a fellow countryman, the Chinese worker couldn’t hold back his tears. This Chinese Jew later helped him find a new job. And that’s how the story goes.
However, not all stories were positive. There were reports of some Chinese workers robbing and assaulting other Chinese. Incidents like that hurt our reputation in Israel, but overall, Jewish people treated us well.
Warnings and Tragedies on the Construction Site
This didn’t happen at my construction site; it happened at the site of one of my fellow workers from Hubei. He told us the story, and I remember it very clearly. He warned us never to visit prostitutes, saying that sexually transmitted diseases were rampant outside. He mentioned a fellow Chinese worker who was strong and hardworking on the site, always giving his best effort. However, he would go to Romania(Luo Ma) Street every weekend. Later, this man contracted a serious illness, and it became quite severe. Eventually, we heard that He hanged himself in the basement. He also mentioned that his father had warned him about such things, and that’s why we always stayed disciplined and restrained.
The Struggles of Working Illegally: Hiding in Israel
In Israel, it’s crucial not to work illegally. I know several people from Hubei who did, and without visas, they lived in constant fear, rarely moving around freely. Most worked in factories near the border, only venturing out if absolutely necessary. Occasionally, when inspections weren’t strict, they would come out, sometimes visiting us. Despite working illegally, their bosses treated them fairly well. However, there were no guarantees, especially with the constant fear of being caught by immigration authorities, and they had no insurance. Still, their wages were paid on time, and the bosses never withheld their pay.
Illegal work was mostly found in chaotic Palestinian areas. One coworker told me that every day he could hear gunfire overhead. The factory walls were tall, but the sound of gunshots was constant. He said he was terrified because the area was so dangerous. Eventually, he spoke to Mr. Lin and got transferred to our site, where he often shared stories of the tension and fear he had felt while working illegally. While the bosses treated illegal workers decently and paid them fairly, the workers themselves lived in constant fear of being discovered.
Mr. Lin, a representative of a Fujian company in Israel, also took on contracting jobs. His main source of income, however, might come from recruitment fees. He encouraged workers to take illegal jobs, because once they did, they were no longer tied to the company, allowing him to recruit new workers from China and profit from the fees. Once those workers went off to work illegally, he didn’t care about them anymore. His business thrived on encouraging illegal work and then profiting from new hires.
Back in 2001, we worked over ten hours a day and earned around 300 shekels daily. But as more people started working illegally, wages across Israel for illegal workers began to drop. Chinese workers used to make 30 shekels per hour, but as more illegal workers took jobs, some were willing to work for 25 shekels, and others even for 20 or 15 shekels an hour. As a result, inspections became much stricter. Anyone without a boss to bail them out would be deported.
While working illegally could bring in more money than staying with a company, it came with no protections, especially regarding safety and insurance. If you were injured, no one would take responsibility. A young man from Huangpi District in Wuhan came to Israel with me but later started working illegally. He had spent over 70,000 RMB to go abroad, but after only a few months, before he could earn back his initial expenses, the immigration authorities caught him. Without a Jewish boss to bail him out, he was deported. When he returned to China, he even confronted Manager Gao from Wujian Group, demanding a refund because there were no protections for illegal workers. This incident was even reported in the Wuhan Evening News. In the end, he didn’t get his money back, and out of frustration, he took his own life. The case became widely known, and we heard about it even while working abroad. I knew the young man, though I’ve since forgotten his name. I only remember he was from Huangpi County.
The blame for this situation falls squarely on Mr. Lin . He encouraged workers to take illegal jobs while still employed by the company. He even tried to persuade me, but I didn’t go. I chose not to work illegally. Though the pay was less, staying with the company meant I was covered —food, lodging, and all my basic needs were covered. If you work illegally, the company is not obligated to take care of you. So, what then?
Throughout my time in Israel, no matter which company I worked for, things were always stable. I remember once staying on a small hill near Jerusalem’s largest hospital. It was a remote area, and we lived in several shipping containers. There was a large supermarket nearby. One day, I ran into a fellow worker from Fujian who had been working illegally. He told me he hadn’t seen another Chinese person in three months and broke down crying when he saw us.
Since we lived near the supermarket, we bought some food, and he picked up two bottles of liquor. We didn’t need to buy cigarettes because we all had some on us. He told us how hard his life had been working illegally, though he had managed to save quite a bit of money—he had nearly $10,000 on him. He hadn’t sent it home because, at the time, it was easier to earn money than to send it back. We later helped him contact his relatives, find his worksite, and make sure the money was safely sent back to his family.
Sending Money Back Home: The Challenges of Remittance
At that time, the exchange rate was quite stable, around 8.3 RMB to the dollar. Sending money back home was really difficult. For example, transferring money from an Israeli bank to China wasn’t direct—we had to go through a third country, like sending it through the U.S. first and then to China. This caused the fees very expensive and not worth it. We often had to go all the way to Ramallah to send money, which was very inconvenient. Some fellow workers from Fujian were even robbed of their money and phones, and this incident was later reported in the local news.
Eventually, a Palestinian bank opened in Jerusalem, making it safer to send money. The area was patrolled by Israeli military and police, which made it much more secure. But in areas without Israeli patrols, it was truly frightening because robberies and violence were common.
A Tearful Farewell at the Airport: The End of Five Unforgettable Years in Israel
In 2004, my fellow worker from Wuhan and I left David Goen’s company in Jerusalem and started working for Boss Ikey in Eilat. The wages at Ikey’s company were higher, and he urgently needed two Chinese construction workers who were skilled in all aspects of construction and able to endure hard work. The foreman under Boss Ikey was from Huanggang, Hubei, and his surname was Wu. He was one of the second batch of workers sent to Israel by the Wuhan Construction Group’s Overseas Department, and he led our work. I learned my tile-laying skills from him; he was an exceptional Chinese builder.
Foreman Wu from Huanggang wasn’t a university graduate—he only had a middle school diploma—but he was highly skilled in all aspects of construction work, including reading blueprints and overseeing projects. Because of this, we all called him ‘architect,’ even though he didn’t have a formal degree. Unlike academic knowledge, he was rich in hands-on experience, and I learned many construction techniques from him.
Foreman Wu had previously worked in Saudi Arabia as a construction worker, but he didn’t make much money there and found the work grueling and exhausting, so he returned to China. Later, he heard about job opportunities in Israel and went there. He told me that Israel was the only place where he truly made money in his life. He had worked in Singapore and other countries but never earned anything substantial—only in Israel were the pay and conditions good, and the bosses were kind. He shared these thoughts with me, but I never worked anywhere else; Israel was the only country I had been to.
When we worked for David Goren in Jerusalem, the wage was 16 shekels per hour. Later, I was transferred to the Red Sea area, where the pay was slightly higher at 22 shekels per hour. The work in Jerusalem was relatively easier, but in the Red Sea area, the work intensity increased, so although the pay was higher, it was more exhausting. We typically worked about 300 hours per month, but in the Red Sea, we worked slightly fewer hours, around 280 to 290 hours a month, because the work was more demanding, so there was less overtime. However, the pay rate was higher. In 2006, I was able to earn between $1,600 to $1,800 per month. One important thing to note is that in Israel, if you worked more than 10 hours in a day then, your work card would show 12 hours, as any extra hours beyond 10 are paid at double the standard rate.
Under the leadership of Wu, the foreman from our hometown of Huanggang, we were always able to complete the tasks assigned by the boss smoothly, earning the full trust of our boss, Ikey. Apart from arranging our transport to the worksite, he rarely interfered with our work but would often call to check if we needed anything, like water or food.
Our boss, Ikey, was genuinely good to us. He had a good friend who ran a large kennel in Eilat, specifically for boarding dogs. Every Saturday, we helped clean the dog cages, take the dogs for walks, pick up after them, and clean the yard. We were paid for this work, and Boss Ikey always found ways to help us earn a little extra. These tasks were all paid, and Ikey was always finding ways to help us earn a bit more money.
Sometimes, we would help out at his father’s or brother-in-law’s house, or do odd jobs for his friends, and we were always paid directly in shekels, not through our payroll. Ikey’s father was well-known locally because he often donated money to the Jewish synagogue. We also did repair work at the synagogue, but it was recorded on his son’s work card and counted as volunteer work for the synagogue.
Whenever we went to help out at Boss Ikey’s house, we were always treated to good food and drinks. His wife was very hospitable, and incredibly kind. They had two daughters, around seven or eight years old at the time, with slightly brown skin—not black, but darker-toned. Every time we visited, his wife warmly welcomed us. Ikey often asked if we needed anything, and anything they didn’t need in the house was offered to us, though we usually said we didn’t need anything.
In 2006, our contract expired, and we could no longer renew the visa. Boss Ikey tearfully drove us to the airport. He said he truly wished he could keep us, but the taxes were too high for him to afford, and he had no choice but to hire other workers. He also mentioned that he would definitely continue hiring Chinese workers in the future because he trusted them deeply.
Before we left, the Israeli immigration authorities took our photos and fingerprints, informing us that we wouldn’t be allowed to return to Israel for work in the future. After five years, we could only visit as a tourist, not as a worker. So, I never planned to go back to Israel for work again. Later, when I heard it was possible to return to work in Israel, I was already over the age limit for recruitment, and the opportunity had passed. It’s such a pity. I miss Israel.
A Bridge of Friendship Between China and Israel
Over the time I was in Israel, life in Israel wasn’t expensive. With 100 US dollars, you could live quite comfortably. Why? Because everything was covered by the boss—housing, essentials, everything. All I needed to buy was a little rice and some vegetables. They even provided bowls and chopsticks for us.
The Jewish people were incredibly kind to us Chinese. Just how kind? Let me tell you: while I was working, concentrating on the job, a group of elderly men and women suddenly showed up and started measuring me with a tape. The next day, they brought me a bunch of new clothes—pants, shirts, everything.
The Jewish people let us Chinese pick fruit from their gardens. It sounds almost unbelievable, but it’s true. During my time in Israel, I felt that everyone treated me well. I never felt mistreated or bullied. It seemed like everyone was helping me, which made me feel that Israel was a wonderful place.
Most of the workers on our construction site shared the same feeling. Only a few, who didn’t have much experience in construction, might have had a tough time, but even then, we protected them. Since there were so many skilled workers among us, we looked out for them. If the foreman gave them a hard time, we would step in and defend them. We’d ask them to help with smaller tasks, and gradually, they grew stronger and honed their skills.
One of the workers from Xiantao, Hubei, had previously been a union leader, working mainly in administration. He joined us in construction, but when he couldn’t keep up with the work, the foreman lost patience and would yell at him, calling him useless. But I always defended him. Once, when the foreman shouted at him, I shouted back at the foreman, telling him not to yell. I told him, “If he can’t manage the work, I’ll help. What’s the big deal? I’ll work with him. If he can’t do it, I’ll take over.” We became good friends after that.
Israel: A Lasting Memory — Hebrew and Old Friends
Sometimes, I think about the people I met in Israel—they were all so kind. I tried calling them once but couldn’t reach anyone, and I imagine they also feel regret about losing touch. Unfortunately, I didn’t save their numbers, and when I changed my phone, everything was lost.
Nearly 20 years have passed, but I still clearly remember the Hebrew I used on the worksite. Though my pronunciation wasn’t perfect, it was enough for me to communicate with my coworkers. I miss Israel deeply. Even though I’m no longer there, I still want to keep learning Hebrew and hope that one day I can visit Israel and hopefully reunite with my old friends and coworkers.
Interviewee: Wu HanFeng
Interviewrt & Editor: Haleli Huang
Editor’s Note:
This is not a pre-written article, but rather a treasure unearthed through free-flowing interviews. It wasn’t hastily put together either but took about a year to get where we are now. During our open conversations, Mr. Wu expressed a deep attachment to Israel. He profoundly empathized with the traumas Israel endured during times of war and fearlessly spoke out standing with Israel by generously sharing his personal testimonies. His positive and proactive attitude toward work and life in Israel was way impressive. Mr’s Wu story not only reflects the reality of Israeli society but serving as a shining example, also highlights the integrity and hardworking spirit of Chinese workers. And this memoir was originally collected in Chinese. The translation strives to authentically convey Mr. Wu’s way of speech, with careful attention to preserving his original tone and personal expressions throughout. It is also necessary noting that, this memoir from twenty years ago was recounted orally by Mr. Wu, drawing purely from his memory. Mr. Wu has an exceptional memory, for example although while he does not know the Hebrew alphabet, he still clearly remembers the Hebrew they used at work about two decades ago. His description of details is also incredibly specific. However, we cannot guarantee that there are no memory inaccuracies. For example, when he first mentioned the Chinese restaurant, he said it was in Jerusalem. Later, after examining the phone number in the photo, he recalled that it might actually have been in Haifa. However, the memoir includes many details about people and their stories, which become self-evident through the accounts of those who bear witness; and sincerely Mr. Wu hopes that readers may help him reconnect with old friends. If anyone recognizes someone in the photos and can make a connection, please contact: haleli.huang@gmail.com.
*All the photos in this article were provided by Wu HanFeng and authorized for use by the editor.
