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Donations welcome all year

During the seven weeks of the counting of the Omer to Shavuot, Temple Sholom’s religious school students bring donations of cereal for the Jewish Food Bank. (photo from Sara Ciacci)

For a number of years, during the seven weeks of the counting of the Omer to Shavuot, Temple Sholom’s religious school students have brought donations of cereal for the Jewish Food Bank. The young students are proud and excited to share with those in need and their parents and teachers help instil in them the meaning of tzedakah.

Although everyone agrees that the food of choice for Shavuot is cheese, and especially cheesecake, there are differences of opinion (some quite charming) as to why it is a custom. One explanation is that, at Sinai, the Israelites were considered to be as innocent as newborns, whose food is milk. Others connect the practice directly to scripture, saying we eat dairy to symbolize the “land flowing with milk and honey” promised to the Israelites.

Today, for more than 400 Jewish members of the Metro Vancouver community, Shavuot is not a day spent recalling a land flowing with milk and honey. Rather, Shavuot is a day like any other. A day when their below-the-poverty-line means do not allow them to celebrate with even a few of the traditional food items. Having been a recipient of help myself from the Jewish community as a child during the Depression years has influenced my lifelong understanding of how much of a difference it makes to the well-being of an individual to be able to mark the Jewish holidays, and to not worry for at least one day how they will sustain themselves (and their family).

Religious school is out for the summer and Shavuot has passed. However, the need to share with those less fortunate does not take a holiday. Your sharing and caring is needed throughout the year. Food donations can be dropped off at Temple Sholom, other synagogues and the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. Donations earmarked for the Jewish Food Bank can be mailed to Temple Sholom at 7190 Oak St., Vancouver, B.C., V6P 3Z9.

Sara Ciacci is past president and longtime member of Temple Sholom Sisterhood board. She has been involved with the Jewish Food Bank since its inception and is the recipient of the Jewish Family Service Agency’s 2015 Paula Lenga Award.

Honorary degree for Frimer

Linda Frimer was honored earlier this month by the University of the Fraser Valley for her artistic, humanitarian and philanthropic contributions and accomplishments. (photo from UFV)

For Linda Frimer, art is a form of reconciliation, and creativity a means of expressing the love within us all. The Vancouver artist has been sharing her art to heal, help worthy causes, and reconcile nature and culture for more than 35 years. In recognition of her artistic, humanitarian and philanthropic contributions and accomplishments, Frimer received an honorary doctor of letters degree from the University of the Fraser Valley at its June 2 afternoon convocation ceremony at the Abbotsford Centre.

Born in Wells, B.C., and raised in Prince George, Frimer connected with nature early on, and it informed her artistic development from the start. “I always had a pencil in hand and was allowed to roam the forest freely as a young girl,” she recalled.

Born a few years after the Second World War ended, she heard the adults in her family whispering about the devastation of the Holocaust. Even decades before the war, her family faced hatred and expulsion. Her grandfather fled Romania during the pogroms in the late 19th century, becoming one of the “footwalkers” roaming Europe, then following the Grand Trunk Railroad in Canada to its terminus in Prince George, where he became a merchant.

“I was too young to understand it all, but I knew something very bad had happened,” said Frimer. “I was a highly sensitive child, and absorbed the pain and anguish that others were carrying. I turned to nature for healing and reconciliation. I would enter the forest with a sense of awe and wonder. It’s what unites all people. When we suddenly see a magical tree or a sunset that leaves us breathless, that wonder belongs to everyone. I’ve always wanted to bring together the worlds of nature and culture. They are all connected, and recognizing that interconnectedness facilitates healing.”

Compelled by a desire to reflect the pain of her community and work towards healing, she created many works of art examining this theme. She co-founded the Gesher (Hebrew for Bridge) Project, a multidisciplinary group that helped Holocaust survivors and their children express their traumatic experiences through art, words and therapy.

Reflecting on the project during a talk she gave to the Canadian Counseling and Psychotherapy Association, she noted that creative expression is a critical component to healing. “I’ve done work that reflects my culture and my people and their plight, but I don’t want to get caught in the dark places. I want to share reverence between all cultures. I want to bring light and love to the forefront.”

From an early age, Frimer felt an affinity for the aboriginal people she grew up near in rural British Columbia. Her connection became more formalized when she befriended Cree artist George Littlechild (also a UFV honorary degree recipient). The two felt an immediate connection through their interest in incorporating family and history into their art and their use of vibrant colors. They have collaborated to produce art shows presented in venues such as the Canadian consulate in Los Angeles, and produced a book titled In Honor of Our Grandmothers.

“Both of our peoples have been through so much that we felt a real connection,” explained Frimer. “Growing up, I felt a real sense of ‘otherness’ and not fitting in. Many aboriginal people can relate to that, too.”

Frimer’s affinity to nature has led to her supporting many environmental causes. Her paintings for the Wilderness Committee, the Trans-Canada Trail, the Raincoast Environmental Foundation and other groups have raised funds for wilderness preservation, and also raised awareness of threatened forests and ecosystems.

“I love my environmental work because I know that’s where I can make a difference,” she said. “I am committed to helping to preserve endangered species and ecosystems, as well as helping people at risk or in crisis.”

Frimer spent her 20s raising her children and developing her artistic skills by finding mentors with whom to study. She didn’t begin her formal training until she was 33, when her last child started school. She then finished a four-year degree at Emily Carr in three years, receiving credit for her prior learning and artistic work.

More than three decades into her career, Frimer’s paintings and murals can be found in galleries, synagogues, churches, retirement centres, hospitals, hospices, schools, transition houses, corporate offices, and public and private collections. She has been very prolific but says it’s been easy to create so much art because she feels she is merely a vessel for a strong creative force. “It’s like joy coming through me, rather than me making it happen,” she said.

Frimer has received many accolades, honors and titles, but said her favorite title is “Grandma.” She and her husband Michael raised their blended family of eight children and now enjoy the company of nine grandchildren. “It’s profoundly important, especially for the Jewish people, who have lost so much, to rebuild the family we’ve lost and share reverence with others who have had similar losses,” she said.

Still, receiving an honorary doctorate is a special distinction for her. “My parents would have been extremely proud, and I know that my husband and children will be too,” she said before the convocation. “You can’t really declare yourself a successful artist – you need affirmation from the outside. I’m so grateful that my messages have been heard, and that the care that I’ve put into bringing more culture, nature, creativity, expression, healing and light into the world through the gift of art is being honored.”

For more about Frimer and her art, visit lindafrimer.ca.

Meet Next Einstein winner

Aaron Friedland’s Walking School Bus garnered the Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem’s 2016 Next Einstein award. (photo from Aaron Friedland)

When Vancouverite Aaron Friedland, 23, heard his Walking School Bus digital reading program was the recipient of the Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem’s 2016 Next Einstein competition, he was surprised to say the least. Studying for his master’s dissertation on applied economics at the University of British Columbia, he’d entered it into the contest without ever thinking his would be the $10,000 grand prize winner out of 1,400 submissions.

Friedland was born in South Africa and immigrated to Vancouver with his family in 1993, when he was a year old. In 2011, while he was attending King David High School, he and his family visited Uganda’s Abayudaya community on a “voluntourism” project that would change his life and inspire the Walking School Bus.

“Three things left an impression on me during that trip,” he reflected. “One was the distance Ugandan students were walking to school, with many traveling five to eight kilometres each way. They needed a school bus. Then, I noticed their daily nutrition of maize meal and wondered, what’s the point in bringing them to school when they haven’t eaten anything for breakfast? And when the curriculum at the school is almost nonexistent?”

Back in Vancouver, Friedland had two goals: to raise awareness of the plight of Uganda’s students by publishing a book, The Walking School Bus, and to use the money from book sales to buy a school bus. An Indiegogo campaign raised $12,000 and Friedland is negotiating publication of the book with a major publisher. “But I received so much interest in what I was doing that I realized the efforts should end with an organization, not a book.”

He learned the tools of creating such an organization at McGill, where he studied economics and economic development, and, later, as an analyst in a fellow position at United Nations Watch in Geneva. It was in Geneva that he became determined to form an organization around The Walking School Bus that might accomplish all three of his goals: not just the school bus, but agricultural training that would enable locals to grow more nutritious food and an enhanced school curriculum that would engage students better in learning.

The Walking School Bus was incorporated into a nonprofit foundation in 2015 and is presently in the throes of conducting economic research. “We’ve raised $25,000 to buy our first school bus, developed the models we need to ensure that bus can be sustained in the community and raised awareness in Vancouver, North America and parts of Australia about what it is to access education,” he said. He will soon lead a group of 18 economists, professors, educators and volunteers to Uganda to deliver the school bus.

In the Walking School Bus’ digital reading program, volunteers create audiobooks that are shared with partnering schools in Uganda, Canada and the United States – a total of 40 schools to date. Friedland has also created a Hebrew textbook, read by students at KDHS, that will help Ugandan Jewish students learn Hebrew. “We’re looking for students to help us create more books,” he said, and encouraged Canadian teachers to learn more about helping out with the reading program online at thewalkingschoolbus.com.

The prize money from the Next Einstein competition is being used to create a downloadable app that will allow people anywhere in the world to read books and poems from their cellphones. “They will be able to see text and even record themselves and send it in to our servers. Our team will engineer those recordings and send them on to empower literacy for students.”

Far from limiting his sights to Uganda, Friedland’s vision for the Walking School Bus is global. When he delivered a TEDx talk in India in recent months, he toured the Dharavi slum in Mumbai and noticed again the distance children were walking to school. He immediately assembled a team, comprised mostly of students from the Delhi Technological University, to investigate the possibility of building a suspension bridge. With a bridge across the river, students could walk 100 metres instead of the five-kilometre route around it. “We’re doing our due diligence right now, scoping out project locations and conducting cost-benefit analyses,” he said.

Friedland said his parents, Phillipa and Des, laid the foundations for his work by teaching their children “how everyone was equal, regardless of what the media said or what the social norms of the time were.”

He said, “My entire life I’ve watched my incredible parents do good things, whether it was my dad picking up earthworms so they wouldn’t be crushed by traffic, or my mom giving money to every single homeless person she saw. I saw how they were able to positively impact people, and how good it made them feel. That motivated me to apply those same principles as an adult.”

To read more on Friedland, visit jewishindependent.ca/better-access-to-education.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net. A version of this article was originally published in the Canadian Jewish News.

Embarking on career

Rami Katz (photo from Rami Katz)

Fish Soup, a 10-minute documentary by Vancouver-based filmmaker Rami Katz, screened at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival last month.

The film is an exploration of Katz’s family and their cultural traditions through the making of a fish soup. He has also submitted the documentary to the Vancouver Jewish Film Centre for consideration in its annual festival, which takes place in November.

“It was this program that motivated me to go on to film school at Simon Fraser University,” Katz told the Independent. “At the time, there were no documentary courses being offered, so my undergraduate film school experience was mostly in narrative filmmaking. But, in my third year, I interned for John Zaritsky, a veteran documentary filmmaker, and he ended up hiring me after I graduated. He has kept in touch as a friend and a mentor ever since, and has definitely been a huge inspiration to me.”

In addition to the industry itself, Katz has been influenced by professors, peers and his studies at the University of British Columbia.

“It has been an enriching experience to spend time with like-minded individuals who share similar passions for documentary film,” he said. “In 2014, I decided to go back to school to pursue an MFA in film production at UBC, which would allow me to grow and develop as a filmmaker, creatively and intellectually, and dedicate myself more fully to my own personal work. I made Fish Soup in a documentary class at UBC, taught by Cari Green and Bruce Spangler, both nurturing and supportive teachers.”

Fish Soup was developed after Katz told his partner, Sarah Sheridan, a humorous story about his father. After hearing the anecdote, Sheridan suggested that Katz make a film about it. He liked the idea of working on a personal project, as he had never before even considered making a documentary about his own life.

“I think everybody has a family recipe and everyone has a family story, so this film kind of taps into that and, hopefully, gets people thinking about their own stories they want to share. For me, this was also a way for me to connect to my own grandfather, whom I was named after but never got a chance to meet because he died before I was born.”

At the Toronto Jewish Film Festival screening of Fish Soup, Katz was able to include both Sheridan and his brother Raphael in the event. After the screening at the Royal Ontario Museum, Katz and his family were treated to a Shabbat dinner at the Free Times Café.

Though highly inclusive of both his family and his colleagues, Katz said creative control was paramount to successfully completing the documentary.

“I think, for a personal film, creative control is hugely important. It’s especially important if it’s a passion project, if you’re not getting paid to make it. It’s important to note here that my crew wasn’t getting paid as well, and they are putting in a lot of hours and energy and were hugely influential in the creation of the film. Sarah helped a lot with the initial concept and project logistics. She truly was a driving force behind the film and I couldn’t have made it without her help and support.”

Katz also expressed his gratitude to Ben Leyland, William Drobetsky and Felix Oltean.

When asked how Fish Soup touches on the importance of upholding familial traditions and values within the larger Jewish culture, Katz said, “I’m not very religious, but a lot of the cultural aspects of Judaism and some of the traditions are important for me. I like to celebrate the holidays and, for the past eight months or so, I’ve been observing Shabbat in my own way. Sarah and I recently hosted our first Passover seder, and we’re starting to do Shabbat dinners every now and then with friends. I think this film helped me to connect with my cultural roots and observe aspects of Judaism that are most meaningful to me.”

Katz is currently filming his master of fine arts thesis film at UBC – a documentary on the life and work of Vancouverite Jack O’Dell, 93, who was an influential figure within the African-American civil rights movement.

Jonathan Dick is a freelance writer living in Toronto. His writing has appeared in the Canadian Jewish News, and various other publications in Canada and the United States.

An artist in multiple realms

Lana Shahar-Kulik (back right) with some of her skating students. (photo from Lana Shahar-Kulik)

Lana Shahar-Kulik approaches life creatively. “In any situation, I like to imagine, What else could I do? How could I make it more interesting? And then I make my imagination a reality,” she said in an interview with the Independent.

Since she was 6 years old, she wanted to be a teacher, and she became one. She taught elementary school for several years in her native Riga, Latvia, before immigrating to Israel in 1998. Her professional life took an unexpected detour there, as she explored a different facet of her exuberant personality.

“I could become a teacher again but I wanted to try something different. I took classes in accounting but, after a couple weeks, I was so bored I wanted to scream. Numbers all day long. Then, our instructor introduced us to new software and told us to create an image with it. Most of my classmates drew some tools; I drew a dog. I enjoyed tinkering with the program. My instructor looked at my dog and said, ‘What are you doing here? You should study art.’”

That was the end of her accounting career. She enrolled in design college in Tel Aviv and spent four intensive years studying graphic design and visual communications.

“I always drew when I was young, but my parents – they were engineers – and I considered it a hobby. Only in Israel art became my profession. I loved it. It was what I wanted to do. I felt almost ecstatic with happiness. I could talk to people who thought like I did, who loved and understood art the way I did. I found my niche.”

Her teacher’s training helped her – she taught art at community centres to pay her college tuition. Afterward, she tried different areas of graphic design. She worked for the fashion industry and in marketing. “But I always wanted to create a book,” she recalled.

That dream didn’t materialize until she moved to Canada with her husband and baby daughter. In 2008, they settled in Vancouver.

“My husband went to work right away – he is a computer guy – but I stayed at home. My daughter was only months old, so we walked outside a lot. That was when I wrote a picture book about a young girl having adventures in Vancouver.”

Her picture book, Curly Orli Goes to Vancouver, by Lana Lagoonca, Shahar-Kulik’s pen name, was published in 2011. She subtitled the book “Plasticine Adventures,” because she originally created all the illustrations as colorful plasticine sculptures. Later, she hired a photographer to photograph her tiny sculptures and used those photos as the book’s images. (For more on Curly Orli and Lagoonca, click here.)

The book opened up a new and fascinating avenue for Shahar-Kulik: brand merchandising. Key chains, jigsaw puzzles, greeting cards, T-shirts and other objects featuring the images from her book are available at curlyorli.com and at several gift shops in Vancouver. She also offers workshops in plasticine and Play-Doh for children of different ages. “I plan to write more books about the same girl, Curly Orli, traveling to different cities, if only I had more time,” she said.

Shahar-Kulik’s love for Vancouver also motivated her to create an adult equivalent of the book – a blog about Vancouver in Russian for tourists and newcomers (lagoonca.livejournal.com).

“I haven’t updated this blog in years, no time, but people still write to me and ask me questions. I always reply, always try to help,” she said.

Helping clients with their graphic design needs, from websites to fashion catalogues, is what Shahar-Kulik’s company, Lunart (lunart.ca), does in four languages: English, Russian, Hebrew and Latvian.

Despite a very busy schedule, Shahar-Kulik recently added another activity to her portfolio. She has started teaching again – roller skating, where the skates have two rows of wheels (quads), and inline skating, where the skates have one set of wheels.

“I loved ice skating as a kid,” she said. “We had a big puddle in our yard and, in winter, it iced over. That’s where I learned to skate. When we came to Tel Aviv, there is no ice there, but there is a large and free outdoor rink for inline skating. I loved it. I learned to do tricks, danced on skates, even had a partner. It is another outlet for my creativity. Skating is like art on wheels. You create beauty with your feet.”

Shahar-Kulik started skating here when her daughter started day care.

“I discovered that Vancouver had no special rinks for roller and inline skating; not many lessons either, and most of them just technical. Nobody offered lessons in creative skating.”

She persevered, met other skating enthusiasts and learned about quad skating. When, in 2015, American skating firm Skate Journeys brought their summer camp to Vancouver, she enrolled and received a licence to be a skating instructor. She also participated in the American 2015 national championship for inline and roller skaters and finished fifth overall.

“I was ready to teach skating,” she said. “Of course, I taught it before, gave private and group lessons, but now I opened a school at Richmond Sports and Fitness. It is called Roller Dance Owl. We teach group dancing, slalom, pair dancing, technical elements and, of course, safe street skating. We play on wheels, have field trips, and the children love it.”

Roller Dance Owl has its own Facebook page, facebook.com/rollerdanceowl.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

Film on Jewish burial process

If you have ever wondered what will happen after your death – when your soul leaves your body but you have not yet been buried – a new film by Saul Henteleff walks you through precisely that experience.

The 30-minute documentary My Jewish Death was screened at Winnipeg’s Limmud festival on March 13. In the film, Henteleff plays a recently deceased person who is taken through the steps of a mock tahara, the Jewish ritual wherein the chevra kadisha (burial society) prepares the body for its final rest. Tahara is done by volunteers and is the main focus of the movie.

The film, which took 10 years to make, includes interviews with several local rabbis, as well as the executive director of Winnipeg’s Chesed Shel Emes, Rena Boroditsky, who was present at the Limmud event, along with Henteleff, to answer questions.

photo - Saul Henteleff’s documentary shows how a chevra kadisha prepares a body for burialy — Saul Henteleff’s documentary shows how a chevra kadisha prepares a body for burial. *(photo by Rebeca Kuropatwa)*

When asked how it felt to play the role of someone who has died, Henteleff said, “I felt very well taken care of. I also think about the filmmaking … everything is broken down into steps. It’s, thankfully, pretty continuous from beginning to end, but we’d start and stop and reshoot. I tried to hold my breath. There are a few things going on there. More so, I had a chance to reflect on it as the edit was coming together.”

When asked if the film changed him, Henteleff replied that he was very skeptical about the whole concept before he started. “When I heard Rabbi [Neal] Rose talking about the afterlife, there were things about it that I just found to be ridiculous. As I was going through the process and the power of these things, that’s when my mind changed and my feeling about the whole thing shifted.

“These are things we hold as a community – I’m Jewish – that we identify with. I saw the value or importance and the respect that it carries: sand on the eyes, the pieces of clay sprinkled on the eyes and groin. These things have been going on for centuries … if we take it seriously, it’s very important.”

Many attendees expressed their gratitude for the film having been made and described it as a “must-see film for Jews.”

In the documentary, it is explained that men are buried with a tallit (prayer shawl) supplied by the deceased’s family, while women are generally not.

While Boroditsky assists in the tahara in the film, in reality, only men perform this ritual for men. “There was some artistic licence taken for the film,” she said. “Normally, we have women who look after women and men who look after men.”

At the screening, Henteleff shared that he was trained before the making of the film and has been volunteering with the chevra kadisha for three or four years now. He also said there were a number of people who were not comfortable with him undergoing the ritual.

“It’s pretty controversial, even when we have a conference and we do a demonstration,” said Boroditsky. “Should we do a demonstration on a live person even though we don’t wash her? Should we cover her face? To do tahara on a live person, not everyone felt comfortable with that. This film is one of a kind.

“The basics of tahara are the same. Around the world, it’s trans-denominational – Reform, Reconstructionist, Orthodox – the basics of tahara are the same…. Some of the prayers may be different, depending on who is doing it and the outfit might be different; one more piece, one less. This is one of the things in Judaism that is universal and very similar all around the world.”

Any Jewish person being buried in one of the four main Jewish cemeteries in Winnipeg must have the ritual performed. People who are buried at the Temple Shalom cemetery at Chapel Lawn have the option of having tahara done at the Chapel Lawn funeral home by trained members of Temple Shalom.

As for the casket, Boroditsky said, “A kosher casket is made from wood with no metal pieces, and usually has rope handles. It’s held together with dowels and glue, no nails. So, that can be what they would call a plain pine box.

“In Toronto and Montreal, where it is more of a commercial funeral home, they offer … a full range of caskets. In every other community outside of Toronto and Montreal – Calgary, Edmonton, Winnipeg and Vancouver – we have a choice of one casket. Our caskets are $550, to keep things as low cost as possible.”

In the case of infants less than 30 days old who have passed away, there is no tahara required. Boroditsky speculated the reason for this as having to do with the fact that, back when the rules were made, infant mortality was very high.

“If you mourned a year for every child, people wouldn’t have been able to live,” said Boroditsky. “Certainly now, the Conservative movement and Reform movement have developed rituals for services for infants, for stillborns and for babies. There has been some movement in that.”

My Jewish Death will be distributed widely in coming months. The trailer is available on YouTube.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Serving with the RAF in Egypt

The author and fellow servicemen at a moral leadership course in Fayid, Egypt, in 1951. (photo from Alan Tapper)

It was the spring of 1951 and I was serving in the British Royal Air Force in the Suez Canal Zone of Egypt. I was one the many hundreds of thousands of young British conscripts sent to Egypt to replace the local workers, who had been told by their government to leave their jobs servicing the British military there. While these men did menial jobs, the work provided them a subsistence wage, which they lost by leaving. Times were difficult.

photo - Alan Tapper served in the British Royal Air Force in 1950-51 — Alan Tapper served in the British Royal Air Force in 1950-51. *(photo from Alan Tapper)*

I worked for the air force intelligence unit. My job was to document all the incidents that took place in an area from Iraq to Egypt. There were a large number of shootings, disturbances in villages and casualties, both Egyptian and British.

Drug smuggling was also an issue. Habbaniya in Iraq was a British air force base at the time, and part of our command. The unit I was in also employed local Arabic-speaking trackers for intelligence work. Hashish was the drug of choice then and a tracker with the RAF once brought back some to our office for airmen to sample at the end of a cigarette.

I was based in Ismailia, in northern Egypt, on the edge of an airfield. I lived in a tented compound where the locals regularly fired volleys of bullets into the base. They were indiscriminate. Not a pleasant experience.

I also worked in the civilian labor office, where I discovered information on the large number of Jewish people from different countries living in Alexandria and Cairo. My job entailed monitoring all previous applications forms and that’s how I found out that there were many Jews in the region, both Ashkenazi and Sephardi, who had worked for the British forces during the Second World War.

Even though the nominal head of Egypt at that time was King Farouk, the British government had a colonial attitude and controlled the whole of the Suez Canal Zone from Port Said to Suez, with army and air force bases throughout the area. Britain knew the strategic importance of this waterway to countries of “the Empire.”

Fifty years later, the British government recognized the effort of the conscripts who served in Egypt by giving us a Suez Medal. They were going to charge us 50 pounds for the medal, but changed their minds after the uproar the idea caused. Regardless, I’m glad to have served, and I still have the medal. I wear it at Remembrance Day ceremonies.

I was in Egypt for 16 months. One of the most memorable parts of my time in the Suez Canal Zone was when I attended a moral leadership course organized by the Jewish chaplain to the British Armed Services in Fayid, Egypt, during Pesach 1951. It was attended by Jewish servicemen stationed in the area and special Pesach food was brought in for the seder and the festival. It was a wonderful experience to meet fellow Jews in – of all places at Passover – Egypt.

Alan Tapper is a local freelance writer. His work has been published in the Vancouver Sun, Province, Courier, National Post, among others, as well as the Jewish Western Bulletin, now the Jewish Independent, and online publications. His first story was published in the London Evening Star when he was 14.

Antiquities officials raid store

(photo by Israel Antiquities Authority via Ashernet)

Inspectors of the Israel Antiquities Authority’s Unit for the Prevention of Antiquities Robbery during a June 14 raid on a store in Jerusalem’s Mamilla Mall. Bronze arrowheads, coins bearing the names of the Hasmonean rulers, vessels for storing perfumes and hundreds of items that are thousands of years old were being offered for sale by the store, which was not licensed to trade antiquities. New regulations have been in force since March requiring that antiquities dealers manage their commercial inventory using a computerized system developed by the IAA. The system, which allows the tracking of items, aims to prevent antiquities dealers from selling artifacts that are the product of robbery, namely the illicit excavation of archeological sites.

Mystery photo … June 24/16

National Council of Jewish Women, 1965. (photo from JWB fonds, JMABC L.13971)

If you know someone in this photo, please help the JI fill the gaps of its predecessor’s (the Jewish Western Bulletin’s) collection at the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C. by contacting [email protected] or 604-257-5199. To find out who has been identified in the photos, visit jewishmuseum.ca/blog.

From the Mamluks to today

suleiThe above display at the Tower of David Museum shows a variety of characters typical of Jerusalem in the 19th century in front of a fountain. Jerusalem’s water system was restored during the rule of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent; fountains (sabils) were built throughout the city, providing water to its residents and to visitors for generations. (photo by Hamutal Wachtel courtesy of Tower of David Museum Jerusalem)

Running water is still a luxury. For most of history – and still in many parts of the world – there has been a constant struggle to locate and maintain water resources. Certainly, this has been the history of inland Jerusalem, which, for thousands of years, has been important to merchants, travelers, pilgrims, politicos and residents alike.

When the Egyptian Mamluks came to Jerusalem in the middle of the 13th century, they found the public water system in need of rehabilitation. To relieve the weary and the thirsty, Mamluk rulers constructed a series of sabils, or free public drinking fountains.

Perhaps the Mamluks repaired or built these esthetically pleasing drinking and washing (i.e. Muslim ablution) facilities out of a heightened sensitivity to the under-privileged. The Mamluks themselves apparently began as young captured or bought slaves, forced to fight, especially in Egypt. While they did not establish social welfare ministries, the Mamluks nevertheless gave alms to ensure water, food, medical care and even (madrasa) education for the poverty-stricken.

The Sabil al-Shurbaji demonstrates this charitable approach. Abed al-Karim al-Shurbaji, the sabil’s endower, was an apparently wealthy Jerusalem resident who lived at the end of the 17th century. In 1686, he had the following welcoming, non-denominational inscription installed on his fountain: “Abed al-Karim al-Shurbaji built the sabil so that thirsty people might drink, hoping through this deed for reward, blessing and charity from Allah the Glorious. Beloved respectful one, set out to date it, and say [it is] a drink from Paradise or a spring.”

In addition to providing regular water flow for his sabil, al-Shurbaji built a cistern nearby in order to have water during droughts. The commissioned sabil was actually a single room with a double window on the northern side, covered by a shallow pointed dome. Compared to the ornate designs ordered by earlier Mamluk rulers, Sabil al-Shurbaji’s architecture is simple.

According to Dr. Avi Sasson, Jerusalem had some 30 sabils, from the nucleus of the Temple Mount to the surrounding city and beyond. Suleiman the Magnificent – sultan from 1520 to 1566 – built all his sabils at street intersections and at central sites around Haram esh-Sharif, the Temple Mount. Medieval sabils were built on the Temple Mount. Starting in the early Ottoman period, sabils began to spread into the city, following housing development outside the Old City walls.

Sabils appeared in three forms: built into a wall; free-standing, sometimes looking like a kiosk; and stylized tanks that required refilling, as they had no constant source of water. In the first two types of sabils, the drinking water came from reservoirs, cisterns or aqueducts. Exquisitely chiseled, these stone fountains sometimes incorporated carved items from other sites, such as the Roman – Prof. Dan Bahat says Crusader – sarcophagus or stone coffin used as a trough at Sabil Bab al-Silsila (Fountain of the Chain Gate), or the Crusader door frame on the Harem’s (1482 CE restored) Sabil Qaitbay (Fountain of Qayt Bay).

photo - The Mamluks’ Sabil Qaitbay (Fountain of Qayt Bay), located on the Temple Mount, was built in the 15th century. Note the contrast between the modern metal trough and the ornate Crusader stone door fixture used as a step — The Mamluks’ Sabil Qaitbay (Fountain of Qayt Bay), located on the Temple Mount, was built in the 15th century. Note the contrast between the modern metal trough and the ornate Crusader stone door fixture used as a step. *(photos by Deborah Rubin Fields)*

While researchers know of the existence of 10 sabils on the Temple Mount, Sabil Qaitbay is one of two sabils on the Temple Mount noted for its unique shape. The 1482 CE fountain – which is actually the rebuilding of an earlier sabil of Mamluk Sultan Saif al-Din Inal – has an ornately carved stone dome. Highly stylized Quranic inscriptions run along the top of the structure. Lacking its own water source, the fountain required refilling. The entrance to the fountain structure was from a set of rounded stone stairs on the east side.

The eight-sided Sabil Qasim Pasha originally got its water from an aqueduct. Water streamed from openings in the marble slabs. Today, the sabil gets its water piped in from the al-Aqsa Mosque water system.

Suleiman the Magnificent’s sabils are probably the best known. In the past year, the Jerusalem Municipality has restored Suleiman’s Sabil Birkat al-Sultan. The sabil’s stones are now clean and there are spouts for drinking fresh water. Runners in Jerusalem’s Marathon this year could stop at this 480-year-old fountain to quench their thirst.

According to a 2009 article in Sustainability by Jamal Barghouth and Rashed Al-Sa’ed, documents show that early in the Mamluk period, Baibars (in 1267 CE) and Mohammad Ibn Qalawun (in 1327 CE) conducted water restoration projects. Rulers, however, soon discovered that keeping Jerusalem water flowing was a demanding job.

Upset over their lost income, private water carriers not infrequently sabotaged the aqueduct along its Judean Desert edge. In addition, south of Jerusalem, farmers diverted the water flow to irrigate their fields. To protect the water, rulers stationed guards and soldiers along the line, but that did not totally stop daring water thieves. Even the severe punishments for those caught tampering with the water system did not completely deter people. Eventually, the Ottomans proposed a different tack: in exchange for leaving the line alone, farmers and towns were given tax breaks.

Accumulated waste material in the open-air aqueduct eventually caused complete blockage. Suleiman the Magnificent reportedly cleaned the aqueduct and undertook many other restoration activities. Later Ottoman rulers were left to instal a closed line.

Eventually, however, the Ottomans abandoned the whole system, forcing Jerusalemites to draw water from wells and local pools until the eventual British Mandate installation of a modern water system. While the Gihon Water Company, established in 1996, lacks the artistic and charitable sense of early sabil builders, it nevertheless reliably supplies fresh water, as well as sewage and drainage services, to about a million people, including Jerusalem residents and those living in Abu Ghosh and Mevaseret Yerushalayim.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.

Sources (further reading)

Poverty and Charity in Medieval Islam: Mamluk Egypt, 1250–1517 by Adam Sabra (2006), part of Cambridge Studies in Islamic Civilization
“Sabils (Water Fountains) of Jerusalem from the Medieval Period to the Twentieth Century” by Avraham Sasson in Water Fountains in the Worldscape (2012), edited by Ari J. Hynynen, Petri S. Juuti and Tapio S. Katko, published by International Water History Association and KehräMedia Inc.
“Sustainability of Ancient Water Supply Facilities in Jerusalem,” by Jamal M. Barghouth and Rashed M.Y. Al-Sa’ed in Sustainability 1(4) (2009)
Jerusalem of Water: The Supplying of Water to Jerusalem from Ancient Times until Today by Yad Ben Zvi for HaGihon Water Company Ltd. (in Hebrew)