California native’s camp offers kids a refuge from war

This summer, Judith Jenya will have Bosnian, Croatian, Serbian and Kosovar kids laughing and tumbling all around her.

On the island Badija off the Croatia coast, Jenya has established a 10-day camp retreat for kids from ravaged war zones.

It's a world away from some other camps where the kids have spent time. Most come from refugee camps. Some have been in concentration camps. Some have been tortured and have seen family members raped and killed.

Jenya, an off-and-on Bay Area resident, started the Los Angeles-based Global Children's Organization in 1993 to run the camps, which are funded by private donations. She is something of an angel to the youngsters, offering them a glimpse of life without war.

"We try to bring to them the experience of love and safety," she said. "Children who have been through war have a high suicide rate. Unless their trauma is addressed, they never get the chance to cope with it."

Jenya, who was born in Ukiah, often house-sits in Berkeley and has a daughter in San Francisco. She had a personal experience with war refugees long before creating her camp. It changed her life.

Jenya's father fled pre-Hitler Germany and her mother left Stalin's Russia. In 1948, when Jenya was 8 and living in Southern California, her family said she'd have to share her room with a new guest.

A family of Yugoslavian Jews who had survived the concentration camps of Westerbork and Theresienstadt took up temporarily residence in Jenya's household.

The Yugoslav family had a young girl named Nada, which means "hope." Jenya and Nada became friends. Eventually, the Yugoslavian family moved on and Jenya lost touch with Nada. But the memory of Nada stayed with Jenya, instilling in her a need to reach out to refugee kids.

Jenya's work started to take shape in 1993 when, on the advice of a Bosnian friend, she visited refugee camps in the Balkans. "I decided I was going to do something. I asked someone who ran an orphanage what they needed. He said the kids should have a camp so they can be kids again."

Within four months, as the war in Bosnia still raged, she had pieced together a program on the island, hosting 70 kids. She snatched them from refugee camps after persuading the Croatian government to grant temporary permits.

The camp lets the kids play sports, do crafts, dance and swim. There's one ground rule: No violence is tolerated.

"We do a lot of hugging," Jenya said. "These kids are raised to hate each other. They have a totally controlled media, and the propaganda is just ferocious. So anytime any problem comes up, we deal with it immediately."

This year Jenya expects to host 1,100 kids. Volunteers from ages 16 to 75 come to help from all over the world. And this summer, Jenya will launch a separate camp in Northern Ireland.

Asked how she found a way to reach the kids, she simply replies, "I had a clear vision and never took no for an answer. I never thought it would get this big. I hope it gets bigger."

Being Jewish has actually helped her deal with strife between Christians and Muslims in the Balkans as well as in Northern Ireland, where Protestants and Catholics are battling. Warring factions consider her nonpartisan.

"These children are all the same," Jenya said. "The war is not their responsibility. They have the choice of not repeating it."

The anecdotes of alumni tell her the camps seem to be working. A young Croatian Muslim who attended the camp initially told Jenya he intended to move to Germany, upset that he could do nothing to help his homeland.

"He just wanted to get out," Jenya said. "We talk a lot to the kids about staying and rebuilding their country."

After a few months in Germany, the Croatian came home, telling Jenya he wanted to volunteer in her camp. He said he returned because Jenya's camp showed him that others cared about his people.

Jenya has seen kids whose ethnic groups are sworn enemies make friends. "To me that's a big success."

In April, a newspaper in Los Angeles carried a story on Jenya's program. When Etty Dolin of Mill Valley happened to read the article, her heart raced and she rushed to contact Jenya. Dolin is Nada's sister.

When they connected, Jenya asked how Nada was. Dolin said Nada had committed suicide in 1990.

In memory of Nada, Dolin has jumped into Jenya's project. She wants to get Marin schools and the Marin Jewish Community Center involved. "I'm so grateful to Judith," Dolin said. "No one was there to reach my sister. Now I'm able to give back something very positive for my sister."

Jenya said that since hearing of Nada's fate, she's found renewed passion to heal refugee kids.

"Some people can't ever fill up that place inside themselves. There is too much trauma. My dream is to have a permanent sanctuary for children from war. Someplace safe and beautiful so they can come and heal."