Israel

Sharing her passion for Israel

As a tour guide in Israel, Renee Halpert “thrive[s] on engaging with people, the constant learning, and exploring the country.” (photo from Renee Halpert)

In the late 1970s, Renee Swartz was a teenager living in West Vancouver. Even though she went to Sunday school, attended Jewish camps and had her bat mitzvah, she always felt a yearning to be more involved in the Jewish community.

Today, now with the surname Halpert, she belongs the modern Orthodox community in Israel. She has four grown children with her husband Joe and is a tour guide living in Beit Shemesh. She comes to Vancouver often to visit her parents, and I met up with her on a recent visit. She is still her bubbly old self. Thinking back to her experience growing up here, she said, “In terms of Jewish community, we were isolated. Only three Jewish families that I know of attended Hillside High School at the time.”

Everything changed when Renee joined Hillel House in 1980, when she started attending the University of British Columbia.

“When I stepped into Hillel, I found an entire community of young, affiliated and active Jews,” she said. “Rabbi Daniel Siegel was an incredible mentor, encouraging Jewish-focused learning, activism and family-life with his wife, Hanna. We would study Jewish texts. We would discuss current events. He encouraged us to join the North American Jewish Students Network, a non-denominational activist community of university-aged Jews across the continent. Thus began my Jewish activism, advocating for Soviet Jews and participating in Israel Week on campus. I felt connected to a community and inspired by all the energy, creativity and meaningful activity.”

I knew Renee as a fellow student activist. All of us helped Judy Feld Carr fundraise to smuggle or pay for Jews to get out of Syria, which was ultimately a success.

After her first year at UBC, Renee studied at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. When she returned, she continued being vocal on behalf of Syrian Jews, Ethiopian Jews and Israel.

“I also facilitated Holocaust educational programming and raised awareness of Nazi criminals in Canadian academia,” she said.

Renee’s connection to Israel began with traveling there when she was 14, “thanks to the insistence of my mother, who always acknowledged the importance of Israel for the Jewish people. The trip was a real eye-opener and fascinating,” said Renee. “At 16, I returned to Israel for the summer on USY Pilgrimage. I loved the adventures, hikes, Jewish content and the community feeling.”

After graduating, Renee returned to Israel yet again. “This time,” she said, “it was to deepen my knowledge of Judaism itself through textual study at Pardes. During my year at Pardes, I began to keep kosher and keep Shabbat on a regular basis. You could say that I began my journey as an affiliated but not-so-educated Jewish teenager and peripheral Zionist, and as a young adult became more connected to Orthodox Judaism and modern Israel.”

Renee moved from Vancouver to Toronto in 1986, during the recession, looking for job opportunities. Her romance with her now-husband began when a cousin invited her to a Shabbat dinner at a local synagogue.

“Honestly, I was so new to town that I was not really paying much attention, but Joe and I kept meeting – through mutual friends and at Jewish events,” said Renee. “Both of us loved the outdoors and were on similar personal journeys to deepen our connection to Judaism. Joe and I were married at the Schara Tzedeck in Vancouver in March 1988, with both Rabbi [Mordechai] Feuerstein of Schara Tzedeck and Rabbi [Wilfred] Solomon of Beth Israel officiating.”

A few years later, the couple decided to live in Israel for at least one year.

“We had a house, good jobs, great friends [in Toronto], supportive family and two young daughters, but I never let go of my dream of one day making aliyah,” said Renee. “Joe had also made a quiet promise to himself to give it a try one day.”

Ultimately, Renee says they were successful in adapting to Israeli society because they treated every day as an adventure.

“Our attitude was positive and we were motivated to make the transition work for our family,” she explained. “Our move from urban Jerusalem to Beit Shemesh a few years later provided us with a strong, dynamic community, where we still live today. I think our kids thrived being close to nature within this supportive community atmosphere.”

That was 32 years ago, and the couple hasn’t looked back. In 2013, Renee became a licensed tour guide.

“I thrive on engaging with people, the constant learning, and exploring the country. I am thrilled to be able to share my passion for Israel with others who are interested in experiencing Israel firsthand.”

After Oct. 7, 2023, most tourism in Israel ceased. One of Renee’s sons and both sons-in-laws were called to their army reserve units. Her daughters and grandchildren moved in for several weeks.

“Besides helping them out, I would cook for soldiers, purchase supplies to take to different bases and volunteer at many farms,” she said. “There was no creative energy. There was barely any energy! But I made a choice to keep busy and be useful.”

By early 2024, Renee began leading educational trips to southern Israel and the Gaza Strip for synagogue missions, educators and individuals supportive of the Jewish state.

“I’ve led almost 100 such trips,” she said. “Many of these trips combine meeting with locals and survivors, volunteering and fundraising for communities or projects. We speak of the heartache, the heroism and the gradual renewal that is taking place. While these trips give me purpose and a chance to process what I am personally going through, the real impact is felt by supporting locals and by helping my overseas visitors gain insights, so they, in turn, can continue to inform others and stay involved.”

And so, my friend continues to be the activist she was all those years ago.

“The past two-and-a-half years have certainly been the most challenging, scary and heart-breaking since we moved here 32 years ago,” said Renee. “There is so much pain … yet, our lives are rich and interesting, our children and grandchildren are well-adjusted, we have a sense of purpose, and we maintain hope for better days ahead. We have no regrets having chosen to live here.”

For more information about Renee’s tours, go to israeldiscovered.com or find her on Facebook at Renee Halpert-Your Guide to Israel. In addition to guiding in Israel, Renee is available for online virtual tours and presentations about sites in Israel, its geopolitics, history and cultural diversity.

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance journalist and improv comedy performer living in Vancouver.

Journalist shares fears

Itai Anghel, one of Israel’s most recognizable documentary reporters, was with his wife and toddler son in New York City, celebrating his Emmy nomination for Last Stop Before Kyiv, in which Anghel and cameraman Eddie Gerald reported from Ukraine during the early months of Russia’s invasion.

As the glitter of the celebratory excursion dissipated, Anghel began receiving news from home. Thousands of terrorists from Gaza had flooded into Israel, in a cataclysm that was only beginning to be understood.

Israeli airspace shut down on Oct. 7, 2023, but, leaving his family in the safety of the United States, Anghel managed to return, and focus his camera on the catastrophe.

photo - Itai Anghel, in Vancouver, provides bleak assessment of the future — Itai Anghel, in Vancouver, provides bleak assessment of the future. *(photo by Pat Johnson)*

Anghel shared his story here in a lunchtime event for business community members May 29 and that evening at Shabbat services at Congregation Schara Tzedeck.

Anghel is the recipient of the Sokolov Award, Israel’s highest award for journalism, and is a university lecturer in history and international relations. He is a correspondent for the television news program Uvda, sometimes referred to as Israel’s 60 Minutes.

On arriving back in Israel, Anghel received a call from a stranger at Kibbutz Nir Oz, in the Gaza Envelope, urging him to get to their village immediately and record the atrocities committed there.

Anghel told the caller that, as far as he understood, Israeli military officials were preventing outsiders from entering the region. The stranger insisted Anghel come, telling him that, if the military tried to prevent his visit, they would shoot the soldiers. The government, the stranger told the reporter, would seek to cover up the reality of what happened and the failure of the Israel Defence Forces to intervene, and getting the reality on video was of utmost importance.

The suspicion of a government coverup may not have been based in reality, but what Anghel saw at Nir Oz was like nothing he had witnessed in war zones in Bosnia or the killing fields of Rwanda.

The Nir Oz survivors took Anghel from home to home, where he filmed the aftermath of some of Oct. 7’s most grisly atrocities. More than 10% of the community’s residents were murdered and 76 residents, almost 20% of the population, were taken as hostages to Gaza.

“They set on fire whole families, whole communities, the terrorists were in Nir Oz for seven hours and not one Israeli soldier confronted them,” Anghel said.

At a home where a mother and child were shot point blank, Anghel reflected on their final seconds.

“The last thing that this boy saw before he was shot to death was someone shooting his mother to death,” he recalled. And, if that didn’t happen, the mother saw her son murdered before she was killed.

Anghel asked for a break, maybe to have a bottle of water, but the people of Nir Oz wouldn’t let him stop witnessing and recording, insisting that he continue his documentation.

As he moved through the kibbutz, he did not process what he was seeing. He admits that his camera is a shield between him and the world. Often, he said, it is later that he begins to process what he sees.

“It was only when I got back to Tel Aviv that I understood what I saw and began reflecting,” he said. “For the first time, I was crying.… The reflecting would come later, when I’m in the editing room.”

He has harsh words for people sitting in comfortable TV studios opining on places they have never visited or who practise, as he acidly calls it, “hotel journalism,” rather than “field journalism.”

The latter, in which Anghel embeds himself among ordinary people and even terrorist fighters, is how journalism used to be done, he said, before the 24-hour news cycle created demand for semi-qualified talking heads to discuss things of which they have only surface knowledge.

Anghel has an American passport – his parents were students in the States when he was born – so he can go places his Israeli passport would not permit.

“People are so focused on ‘everyone’s an enemy,’” he said, but when he interviewed people in Damascus, Syria, Israelis couldn’t believe their openness to good relations with Israel.

Being relatively fluent in Arabic opens doors for Anghel.

“I tell them I’m from the US, but I’m not a soldier, I’m not from the army,” he said. “They are in a state of shock because they have never heard an American speak Arabic.”

He tells them he studied the language so he could communicate with people like them and, from there, he almost always finds a willingness to open up.

Anghel took special aim at the New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof, who last month published an at least partially fictionalized account of IDF atrocities, including attack dogs allegedly trained to rape Palestinians.

“It is so radical and parts so far-fetched,” said Anghel, noting that the organization Kristof cited as the source for some of his most incendiary allegations is Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor, which Anghel and Israel’s diaspora affairs ministry characterize as a Hamas front organization in Europe.

“Anyone with very basic knowledge knows that Euro-Med is an affiliation of Hamas,” he said. “If you get information from there, at least be honest and say so.”

That the Kristof piece could pass the standards of the New York Times is, Anghel said, symptomatic of a decline in basic journalistic rigour, in which terms like “apartheid” and “genocide” are applied without qualification.

“They know already, they’ve decided already and there is no openness to hear anything else,” he said.

On the other hand, Anghel admits to getting criticism from all sides. Some Israeli viewers condemn him for platforming anti-Israel terrorists. Israel’s government is no fan of Anghel or Uvda, either.

Anghel is blunt in his assessment of Israeli cabinet minister Itamar Ben-Gvir.

“He’s a fanatic, a criminal, in charge of law enforcement in Israel,” Anghel said.

Anghel and his TV program have also been condemnatory toward what he calls Israel’s abandonment of the Kurdish people.

“We knew that jihadists in Syria would like to crush them and we did nothing,” he said.

The relations are complicated, he admitted, but Israel prevailed upon the new Syrian regime to protect the Druze people in the south of Syria, because Israel has a special relationship with the community because of the Druze population in Israel. The Kurds, in northern Syria, who Israel has allied with at times, were left to their own devices, Anghel said.

Of all the threats to Israel’s future, Anghel said, his greatest fear is internal strife.

“Israel is divided like it has never been,” he said. “The situation is awful. You cannot make it look nicer. It is awful.”

While some Canadian Jews are thinking about leaving, he noted, in the past two or three years, 10,000 Israelis came to live in Canada.

The schism between ultra-Orthodox, who generally do not serve in the military, and the majority of Israelis, who have been carrying the burden of service, is a particular point of division. At the same time, the birth rate among ultra-Orthodox portends a country that is demographically shifting toward that group.

Many Israelis are concluding that the current government does not care about people like them.

“You make the calculation and you realize maybe it is not the place for you to live,” said Anghel.

“I’m not afraid of Hezbollah, I’m not afraid of Syria, I’m not afraid of Iraq, I’m not afraid of Yemen’s Houthis, I’m not afraid of nuclear weapons from Iran,” Anghel said. “I’m afraid of ourselves.”

Schara Tzedeck’s Rabbi Andrew Rosenblatt thanked the Diamond family for sponsoring the event in memory of the late Charles Diamond. Josh Pekarsky interviewed Anghel.

Eco-Sisters mentorship

Reut Mealem, left, and Shahaf Ella Salach are coordinators and mentors for Ben-Gurion University of the Negev’s Eco-Sisters program. (photo from BGU)

Ben-Gurion University of the Negev’s Eco-Sisters allows graduate students to mentor first-year female students or students considering studying STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics) subjects.

“Our involvement in Eco-Sisters is both as coordinators and as mentors,” Reut Mealem, a PhD student in the department of information systems engineering, told the Independent of her and Shahaf Ella Salach’s connection to the program.

As a coordinator, Mealem – whose research focuses on applying machine learning methods to biological data to uncover meaningful insights – helps shape and guide the program’s activities, works closely with the mentors and supports the development of initiatives designed to encourage more female students to pursue STEM fields.

As a mentor, she provides direct support to women at different stages of their academic journey. This includes creating accessible channels of support, offering personalized guidance and building a community where women can ask questions, share concerns and feel less alone in the process.

“We chose to join Eco-Sisters as mentors because it is important to us to be a real source of support for women at the beginning of their journey and to offer guidance at eye level,” Mealem said.

Salach added that an involved mentor can make a meaningful difference by helping reduce uncertainty, organize information, support informed decision-making and strengthen the confidence that it is possible to succeed in academia while also enjoying the process.

“For us, personally, the program has highlighted the power of support and belonging. Meeting candidates and students, listening to them, guiding them and offering both practical and emotional tools has strengthened our sense of purpose. It gives us the opportunity to help other women take their first steps with greater confidence,” said Salach, a master’s student in mechanical engineering, whose research involves understanding the flow mechanism driving the cerebrospinal fluid in the brain.

Eco-Sisters was initiated in 2022 by Prof. Halleli Pinson, who served at the time as the president’s advisor for gender equity at BGU. The program was established as part of a broader national effort to promote gender equity in academia. Israel’s Council for Higher Education launched a five-year strategic plan in response to persistent gender gaps.

One of the clearest findings from the early research was the underrepresentation of women in STEM disciplines, despite these fields being both vital to the economy and offering strong professional opportunities.

“This underrepresentation is not seen as the result of innate differences, but rather as the outcome of long-standing social and educational patterns that often steer women away from STEM and toward more traditionally ‘feminine’ fields, typically associated with caregiving, interpersonal work and lower pay,” said Yael Hashiloni, a professor in the department of sociology and anthropology, who served as the president’s advisor for gender equity until October 2025.

“In response, increasing the number of women studying STEM became a national priority, and universities received dedicated funding to help advance this goal,” Hashiloni said.

Eco-Sisters was created to encourage women to take that first step into STEM fields and to support them along the way. The program does this through dedicated scholarships, mentoring and the creation of peer networks among women. These efforts are grounded in research showing that personal support, community and access to role models can play an important role in driving social change. Additionally, Eco-Sisters promotes women’s entrepreneurship through collaboration with the university’s entrepreneurship centre.

“This reflects not only a commitment to advancing women themselves, but also a broader understanding that diversity strengthens creativity, leads to more innovative solutions and helps address the needs of diverse communities in a more equitable way,” said Hashiloni.

Since its start, Eco-Sisters has supported dozens of female students, according to Hashlioni. And, this year, the program continued to grow, with the number of mentors increasing from 10 in 2025 to 13, and three additional university departments joining: computer science, software engineering and data engineering.

Last year’s program evaluation indicated strong mentor engagement and encouraging signs of increased women’s enrolment in the departments where the program has been active.

Mealem and Salach joined the program this year, so most of what they have seen by way of impact comes from their first conversations with prospective students, particularly during University Open Day, where they ran an Eco-Sisters booth and met young women considering STEM studies.

“Even in brief interactions, it was clear how much personal connection matters. Many were not only looking for information, but also for reassurance, encouragement and someone they could speak to openly,” said Mealem.

According to Salach, last year’s mentor survey reflected the program’s impact. Mentors described helping students with both practical and emotional aspects of the transition into university, from questions about registration and courses to the uncertainty that often comes with starting a degree.

“Many shared that the most meaningful part of the experience was knowing they had helped prospective students feel more confident and less alone,” Salach said of the mentors’ comments.

“From our experience so far,” she continued, “we feel that even a short conversation can make a difference. Seeing someone a little further along the same path can help prospective students imagine themselves there, too. That is part of what makes the program so meaningful: it gives women a welcoming first point of connection and helps them begin their journey with greater confidence.”

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Unexpected discoveries

Prof. Brian Berkowitz, Sam Zuckerberg Professorial Chair in Hydrology, at his lab at the Weizmann Institute of Science. (photo from Weizmann Institute)

Prof. Brian Berkowitz of the Weizmann Institute of Science recently visited Vancouver and Calgary for meetings with members of the Weizmann Canada community.

Berkowitz, who was born in Edmonton, joined the staff of the Weizmann Institute in 1993. He received his bachelor and master of science degrees from the University of Alberta and his doctorate from the Technion-Israeli Institute of Technology. He worked as a research hydrologist for Israel’s Ministry of Agriculture for several years and as a visiting professor at the University of British Columbia for two years before joining the Weizmann faculty. A former head of the department of environmental sciences and energy research (now the department of earth and planetary sciences), he is the incumbent of the Sam Zuckerberg Professorial Chair in Hydrology.

Berkowitz’s research centres around the experimental analysis and computer modeling of ﬂuid and chemical transport in geological formations, with emphasis on soil and groundwater systems. He and his colleagues are developing new models that realistically describe pollutant migration patterns; these models show conditions under which groundwater contamination can occur. He is also developing experimental methods for environmentally friendly chemical treatment of contaminated water.

Recently, he has become involved in research related to urology and treatment of kidney stones, and to the active treatment of lymphedema and related tissue-swelling disorders, including the development of biomedical devices.

Berkowitz – who is married and the father of three children – was first motivated to apply his physical science expertise to the medical field when his son was diagnosed with a serious kidney condition. Because what is the kidney if not a water filtration organ?

He applied his knowledge of fluid dynamics and chemical transport to the development of a ureteral stent that allows urine to drain from the kidneys to the bladder when there are blockages. The preexisting stents often caused pain and irritation in people who relied on them, and Berkowitz was able to develop a much-improved stent that was more comfortable and effective.

Building off that success, the professor has turned his attention to the development of a device that can treat lymphedema and related tissue-swelling conditions. Lymphedema is a condition in which fluid is not effectively drained by the lymphatic system and instead builds up in bodily tissue, often in the arms and legs. This is a common condition following some cancer treatments, among other causes.

Berkowitz worked with Yeda, the commercial arm of the Weizmann Institute, and a medical technology company called Sub-Q Bionics was formed to develop a device based on his research.

Sub-Q Bionics recently received the funding needed to further develop what is a sort of bionic lymph node that has the potential to transform how lymphedema is managed. The device will essentially be a drainage system that is implanted under the skin to help with the painful swelling caused by lymphedema. It would be the first treatment to actively drain lymphatic fluid from the limbs, offering relief to the more than one million people who suffer from lymphedema in Canada alone.

At the Weizmann Institute, which is ranked sixth in the world for research quality, scientists are given wide latitude to follow their curiosity and interests, even across scientific disciplines. As Berkowitz’s research exemplifies, this cross-pollination of ideas can often lead to unexpected and exciting discoveries that might not otherwise be possible.

In addition to being an acclaimed scientist, Berkowitz is an accomplished musician, having played bassoon professionally in the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra and in numerous chamber ensembles in Canada and Israel.

– Courtesy Weizmann Canada

Study’s results hopeful

Hebrew University researchers have discovered that non-psychoactive cannabis compounds reduce liver fat and improve metabolic health in obese mice. (image from HU)

A study led by Prof. Joseph (Yossi) Tam, Dr. Liad Hinden, PhD student Radka Kočvarová and Tam’s team at the School of Pharmacy in the faculty of medicine at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem has found that two compounds from the cannabis plant could help treat fatty liver disease. The research, conducted on obese mice, suggests that cannabidiol (CBD) and cannabigerol (CBG), which are non-psychoactive and do not cause a high, can improve liver health by changing how the organ manages energy and cleans itself.

Metabolic dysfunction-associated steatotic liver disease (MASLD) is currently the most common chronic liver disorder in the world. It affects approximately one-third of the adult population and is closely linked to obesity, high blood pressure and insulin resistance. While lifestyle changes like diet and exercise are important, they can be hard to maintain, and there are very few approved medicines available for this condition.

The researchers used advanced tools to show that CBD and CBG do more than just reduce fat. They help the liver function better internally through a unique process of “metabolic remodeling.” One of the most important findings was the impact on the liver’s energy reserves. These compounds increase levels of phosphocreatine, which acts like a backup battery to help the liver stay healthy under the stress caused by a high-fat diet. This is a new discovery.

Additionally, the study showed that CBD and CBG restore the activity of cathepsins. These are enzymes that act like a cleaning crew within the cell’s recycling centres, known as lysosomes. By getting this cleaning crew back to work, the liver is better able to break down and clear out harmful fats and waste. The researchers also found that both treatments significantly reduced harmful lipids, such as triglycerides and ceramides. Ceramides are particularly dangerous because they are known to contribute to insulin resistance and liver inflammation.

The study observed that, while both compounds were effective, they each provided slightly different benefits. Both CBD and CBG were able to normalize blood sugar levels and improve how the body clears glucose. However, CBG appeared to have a more pronounced effect on certain metrics: it reduced body fat mass and improved insulin sensitivity more than CBD. CBG was also particularly effective at lowering total cholesterol and “bad” LDL cholesterol levels.

While these results are encouraging, the team notes that more research is needed to understand how these findings can best be applied to human patients.

The research paper, which was published in the British Journal of Pharmacology, can be accessed at doi.org/10.1111/bph.70387.

– Courtesy Hebrew University of Jerusalem

Reflections from Be’eri

Hundreds of terrorists entered Kibbutz Be’eri. Of the 1,000-plus residents, 101 kibbutz members were killed, 30 people were abducted and one-third of the houses were severely damaged or destroyed. (photo by Larry Barzelai)

My wife and I frequently travel to Israel to visit our three grandchildren. Our interest in Be’eri comes from its special connection with Kibbutz Hatzerim, the birthplace of our daughter-in-law. I feel that the story of Be’eri is a paradigm for the story of the Jewish people, the story of building something magnificent, experiencing a great

destruction and rebuilding afterwards to create something even better. It also illustrates how, when people work together, they can accomplish greater things.

Through a mutual friend, I arranged to meet Yaron, a lifelong member of Kibbutz Be’eri and one who had survived the Oct. 7 massacre. He graciously took me on a tour of the kibbutz as he described the events of that day. Much of what follows are descriptions of the events in his own words. He’s given me permission to share them with you.

On the evening of Oct. 6, Yaron and other kibbutzniks were celebrating the anniversary of the founding of Kibbutz Be’eri. Sharing drinks later with some of his closest friends, they started planning a summer hiking trip in the French Alps.

At 6:30 in the morning of Oct. 7, Yaron heard unusual noises, as he slept with his wife and two young children – both under 5 years old. It sounded like shelling and bombing. When the red alert siren went off, they ran to join their kids in their home’s mamad (reinforced security room), which is also the kids’ bedroom.

Initially, Yaron wasn’t too concerned, even after receiving a text that the kibbutz may have been infiltrated by enemies. “OK, I guess we’ll be cooped up in here for a couple of hours,” he thought.

“Messages in the different kibbutz WhatsApp groups start reporting about terrorists walking inside Be’eri,” he writes. “It is close to 8 a.m. Someone writes a message that she hears gunshots.”

Shortly after that, someone reports hearing “terrible screams from the apartment above her, then silence.” Another says that one of the houses in the kibbutz is burning.

Yaron tries to stay calm. The power goes off. Their dog, who is not inside the room, is unusually silent. They hear that someone is in their house.

“They get to the room and try to open the door. I fight over the handle, heart pounding,” writes Yaron. “They don’t succeed! Every time they try, I swing the door handle back to the upright, ‘Safe’ position.”

Eventually, the terrorists give up on opening the mamad. Yaron ignores the calls in Arabic and English to come out of the room. He and his family listen, as the terrorists sing, while wrecking the house. First, there is the smell of gasoline, then smoke enters the room.

A neighbour advises them, via Yaron’s phone, that they should close the gap under the door with wet clothes.

“I take the sheet from my daughter’s bed, pour the bucket of urine on it and jam it under the door,” Yaron writes. “Outside the room, the fire grows fierce, it consumes five years of our lives in minutes…. We are in a closed room, we have no electricity, the children are coughing. I realize that the fire in our home is probably so crazy that even those inhumane monsters can’t still be waiting outside the door. I let go of the handle and I take a deep breath and feel some oxygen flow to my brain. So far, it was the pressure and fear of the terrorists that was suffocating me, but now the smoke is becoming the main problem.”

Yaron’s wife continues to text with neighbours, calling emergency team members repeatedly.

“All of our children’s books are burning outside,” Yaron shares. “Amidst all the terror we hear one of our favourites, a sound book of Arik Einstein songs, catching fire. The fire makes it play, chillingly, one of the happiest songs we know: ‘It’s Saturday morning, a beautiful day….’”

Suffocating on the smoke, the family has no choice but to open a window of their second-floor apartment. Despite the fear of what awaits them outside, the smoke is too much and they climb out onto the metal awning below.

“The four of us are sitting on the metal. We can breathe but we are exposed 2.5 metres (eight feet) above the ground. OK, now what?” Yaron recalls.

They can’t reach the emergency team, so they jump to the ground and hide in a nearby shed. Yaron jumps first, his wife hands him the kids, then follows.

photo - A house identical to Yaron’s, which has been demolished, that gives an idea of the window of the family’s safe room and the challenge of jumping to the ground from the second storey — A house identical to Yaron’s, which has been demolished, that gives an idea of the window of the family’s safe room and the challenge of jumping to the ground from the second storey. *(photo by Larry Barzelai)*

“Another neighbour reaches out, ‘Come to my place.’ I call him. I ask him to risk his life, leave his mamad and open his house for us. He does this while we’re on the phone. We are hesitant to come outside, we are debating with our eyes, and can’t decide if we should stay hidden in an unsafe shed or try to reach a safer place but risk exposure. I ask him to risk his life even more, to take a look outside and verify there are no terrorists in sight. He bravely obliges and says it’s clear. We were in the shed for maybe five, maybe 10 minutes, maybe it was two years, who knows. The kids are silent…. My heart is racing, I open the shed door and we sprint to the neighbour’s house.”

The fire has consumed their own home, and their beloved dog. Temporarily safe at the neighbours’, Yaron sees that the fire might cross over to where they are hiding. “We decide we need to evacuate,” he writes. “At a distance, we spot a few IDF soldiers. A small company or a team…. They escort us to a nearby building where my brother lives. We contact him and he let us in together with two more kibbutz members who had gotten stuck in a similar situation.”

Around 11 p.m., soldiers returned to Yaron’s brother’s place. “They helped us out, they asked us to cover our children’s eyes to shield them from the horrors on the kibbutz lanes and they escorted us to the yellow gate.”

“We made it out,” he writes. “We made it out.”

Most of Yaron’s extended family survived the massacre, except for an aunt who was murdered. In total, hundreds of terrorists entered the kibbutz. Of the 1,000-plus residents, 101 kibbutz members were killed, 30 people were abducted and one-third of the houses were severely damaged or destroyed.

Another victim of the massacre was Winnipeg-born Vivian Silver, who had, prior to Oct. 7, driven patients from the Erez border crossing to hospitals in Israel. She learned Arabic so that she could better communicate with her Bedouin neighbours. She truly believed in a peaceful future between the residents of Israel and the Palestinians of Gaza. Sadly, she was killed on Oct. 7. Her remains were so badly burned that it took weeks to identify her by DNA analysis.

Eli Sharabi, another resident of Be’eri, was kidnapped and taken to Gaza. In his book Hostage, he describes 491 tortuous days in Hamas captivity. He was looking forward to reuniting with his family once he was freed. Instead, upon his release, he discovered that his wife and daughters had been killed on Oct. 7. He cried at their gravesites for two hours, before making the decision that he had to move forward.

Immediately after Oct. 7, Yaron and his family spent many months living in an apartment in the Dead Sea area. They were alive and they were safe, relatively free from missile attacks, but life was far from normal. To say nothing of the trauma they were dealing with, reestablishing a kibbutz lifestyle, while living in a crowded hotel with none of the amenities that glue kibbutzniks together, was challenging.

The family has since relocated to a temporary custom-built village adjacent to Kibbutz Hatzerim. Be’eri and Hatzerim are sister kibbutzim, both founded in 1946. Be’eri was named for Berl Katznelson, a founding father of Labour Zionism, whose nickname was Be’eri; Hatzerim, after a verse in Deuteronomy (2:23) that mentions hatzerim (farms/enclosures) “as far as Gaza.”

Be’eri and Hatzerim are both traditional socialist kibbutzim, populated mainly by people on the left of the political spectrum. Thus, it was natural for Kibbutz Hatzerim to offer to build a temporary kibbutz adjacent to them for people from Be’eri to live until their kibbutz was rebuilt over a two-year period.

photo - The new neighbourhood on Kibbutz Be’eri, where Yaron and his family are planning on living. The rebuilding of the kibbutz is expected to take two years — The new neighbourhood on Kibbutz Be’eri, where Yaron and his family are planning on living. The rebuilding of the kibbutz is expected to take two years. *(photo by Larry Barzelai)*

Most former residents of Be’eri are now living in the temporary kibbutz. Some facilities, such as medical clinics and administrative offices, are shared by the two kibbutzim. Otherwise, the temporary Be’eri has its own houses, schools and offices. Hatzerim expanded its dental clinic, seniors lounge and grocery store to accommodate the increased needs of the larger population. In typical kibbutz fashion, members of both communities met many times to jointly plan this project.

Every day, Yaron leaves his family on the temporary Kibbutz Be’eri to commute 45 minutes to the original. About 60 kibbutz members are living there now, while it’s being rebuilt, and the plan is for most members to return by the start of the school year this September. A printing factory and agriculture are the two sustaining industries on Be’eri.

Yaron’s home, along with 140 others, was destroyed on Oct. 7. Recently, members of Kibbutz Be’eri made a collective decision to tear down all the damaged buildings. They want to try and wipe away the terrible memories of Oct. 7 and build anew. As one part of the construction work, the kibbutz is building a new subdivision, where Yaron and his family are planning to live.

But Yaron isn’t sure that he wants to return. He was born on Be’eri and has lived most of his life there. However, the memory of the trauma of Oct. 7 is very strong. He’s not sure he wants to move back to this place, where so much death and destruction happened. He confided that he may want to live outside of Israel, somewhere he can anticipate a more peaceful future for his children.

Larry Barzelai is a Vancouver family physician, specializing in care of the elderly, who travels to Israel frequently to visit his three grandchildren there. He is presently co-chair of the Jewish Medical Association of British Columbia.

Reminder of hope, resilience

Kindergarten children preparing matzah, 1925. (photo by Joseph Schweigh, KKL-JNF Photo Archive)

In uncertain times like these, as the war with Iran continues, attention often turns to the traditions and customs that have carried generations through both hardship and renewal. Against this backdrop, Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael–Jewish National Fund (KKL-JNF) has shared some rare images from its photo archive documenting Passover across the years. The images, dating from before the declaration of the state of Israel, reflect enduring elements of Jewish life, including tradition, education and communal practice.

photo - A festive parade of Jewish soldiers during Passover in Jerusalem, 1948 — A festive parade of Jewish soldiers during Passover in Jerusalem, 1948. *(photo by Rudolf Jonas, KKL-JNF Photo Archive, KKL-JNF Photo Archive)*

Among them are a photograph from the 1920s showing kindergarten children preparing matzah dough; documentation from a festive Passover parade for Israeli soldiers in 1948, the year of Israel’s independence; and families in Jerusalem’s Mea She’arim neighbourhood participating in the burning of chametz in 1983, a year marked by the effects of the Lebanon War. Though decades apart, the scenes show how holiday practices supported community connection and hope during periods of instability.

photo - A wall newspaper produced in the 1950s and 1960s by Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael–Jewish National Fund’s education department, which was displayed in Jewish schools in England — A wall newspaper produced in the 1950s and 1960s by Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael–Jewish National Fund’s education department, which was displayed in Jewish schools in England. *(photo from KKL-JNF Banner collection displayed in the Central Zionist Archives in Jerusalem)*

The archival materials also include a wall newspaper produced in the 1950s and 1960s by KKL-JNF’s education department, which was displayed in Jewish schools in England. The poster places the Exodus from Egypt alongside images of agricultural work, tree planting and communal life in the land of Israel, illustrating how Passover was given renewed meaning in the Zionist era as a bridge between a biblical narrative and a modern vision of national renewal.

photo - The burning of chametz in the Mea She’arim neighbourhood in Jerusalem, 1983 — The burning of chametz in the Mea She’arim neighbourhood in Jerusalem, 1983. *(photo from KKL-JNF Photo Archive)*

“These photographs show how people held onto tradition, community and hope during uncertain periods,” noted Efrat Sinai, director of archives at KKL-JNF. “Viewed today, they highlight both historical experience and the sources of resilience that continue to shape Jewish life. Passover appears here as a living educational framework, a connection between Jewish communities in Israel and abroad, and a reflection of the strength of these communities across generations.”

KKL-JNF’s photo archive, which contains tens of thousands of historical photographs, serves as a living chronicle of life in the land of Israel and beyond. Together, these materials are a reminder that the story of Israel has never been defined by hardship alone, but also by its ability to hold onto hope, tradition and the promise of brighter days ahead.

– Courtesy Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael-Jewish National Fund

Sheltering in train stations

Another day, another missile alert: Israelis sheltering at the Herbert Samuel Hotel miklat. The writer and his wife take refuge there, but their dog, Max, won’t leave home. (photo by Gil Zohar)

Those who think history doesn’t repeat itself may wish to WhatsApp my 97-year-old mother, Joyce, to discuss how millions of Londoners like herself sheltered in the British capital’s Tube stations during the Blitz and later in the Second World War. The Luftwaffe bombings traumatized her and her two younger sisters, Anita and Renee. Today, the same “rain” of terror is falling across Tel Aviv, Haifa and Jerusalem.

In Tel Aviv and in the neighbouring cities of Ramat Gan and Bnei Brak, nine underground stops on the Red Line of the Light Rail are open 24/7 as public bomb shelters, including on Shabbat, when there is no transportation service. Some denizens of Greater Tel Aviv have taken to sleeping on the station platforms overnight rather than returning home after each all-clear alert.

At the time of writing, the Red Line is not operating. Commuters from Jerusalem to central Israel have been temporarily required to change trains at Ben Gurion Airport before continuing to Tel Aviv.

Not surprisingly in a country where kvetching is the national sport, some people have complained that not all the underground stations have been opened to serve as protected spaces. The Ministry of Transportation has published a list of stations deemed safe, which the frantic hordes may freely enter when the missile alert screams.

The Carlebach station – named after Esriel Gotthelf Carlebach (1908-1956), the Leipzig, Germany-born pioneering journalist, founding editor of the daily Maariv, and cousin of Berlin-born troubadour Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach – has not been opened, as it is not considered suitable as a secure shelter for engineering reasons.

In the eternal capital of the Jewish people, Yerushalmis are also taking cover underground. While all the stops on Jerusalem’s single tram line are on the surface, the Navon Train Station – which is 90 metres below street level and was designed to function as a nuclear bomb shelter – is now serving its secondary purpose apart from transportation.

Home Front Command (HFC) and Ministry of Defence officials have praised the Israeli public for its resilience in quickly reaching a safe place to shelter when the siren goes off.

Israel updated its national building code in 1992 following the Gulf War the previous year, when Saddam Hussein rained Scud missiles down on Tel Aviv and Haifa from Iraq. Previously, zoning laws had required condominium apartment buildings to incorporate a basement bomb shelter, but the threat of heavier-than-air poison gas attacks made those shelters potential death traps. Thus, gas masks were distributed, and every apartment in new residential buildings is now required to have a reinforced and sealed security room, called a mamad in Hebrew. Typically, these are a bedroom protected with extra thick concrete and equipped with a steel door and heavy shutters. A wet towel placed by the door makes for a reasonably airtight seal. Some newer buildings have been designed so that the area around the elevator shaft and stairs serves as a protected miklat (shelter) for the entire floor. It’s a uniquely Israeli way of getting to know one’s neighbours.

The number of fatalities has been miraculously low in the night-and-day barrages from Iran and Lebanon since the current war started on Feb. 28. At press time, 28 people – including two soldiers – had been killed in the hundreds of missile and drone attacks targeting civilian regions in the Jewish state. More than 400 ballistic missiles had been launched. No information has been released on the number of drones fired.

Nine Israelis were killed and more than 40 injured in Beit Shemesh on March 1 when an Iranian missile hit a residential neighbourhood, destroying a synagogue and collapsing the adjoining bomb shelter. The shelter was in a pre-1991 building that had been retrofitted.

A Thai agricultural worker in central Israel and four Palestinian women in a beauty salon in the village of Beit Awwa, southwest of Hebron, were killed on March 18 by debris from an Iranian missile. Barrages employing cluster munitions have hit multiple locations – including near my home in downtown Jerusalem. More than 100 residents in Dimona and Arad were wounded in missile strikes on those two southern cities March 21; most were not in bomb shelters, according to an HFC investigation.

Train service has been interrupted at Tel Aviv’s Savidor station and in Holon, where, as well, several buses were damaged. Military censorship prohibits publishing the addresses of hits.

photo - Max prefers to stay home when the sirens sound — Max prefers to stay home when the sirens sound. *(photo by Gil Zohar)*

On March 15, Israel Railways reopened the train stations in Hod HaSharon-Sokolov, Bnei Brak, Rishon LeZion HaRishonim and Dimona, which had been shut down when the war began. Full service resumed on the lines from Herzliya to Ofakim, and Herzliya to Jerusalem. While the latter stops at Ben Gurion Airport, service at the international air hub remains greatly reduced. Some travelers are choosing to take a bus to Amman, Jordan, or Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt, to fly abroad. The situation remains fluid.

For my wife and me, four overseas guests at our Pesach seder have had to say “Next Year in Jerusalem” because their flights have been canceled. We live in a charming stone building in the city centre, which was built in 1886 and has neither a miklat nor a mamad. When the siren sounds, we head to the Herbert Samuel Hotel across the street. There, the synagogue two floors below ground level doubles as the reinforced space. Last Friday, as the Sabbath approached and the air raid alert rang, a guest was playing the violin, serenading those present with the strains of “Shalom Aleichem.”

And what of our dog Max? The poor mutt refuses to leave his comfort zone – our unprotected apartment. With every second meaning the potential difference between life and death, we leave him to lie on the sofa and howl at the sirens.

Gil Zohar is a journalist and tour guide who lives in Jerusalem.

Garden City of Tel Aviv

Liebling Haus’s exhibit Life, Plant, City: 100 Years of Geddes’ Plan for Tel Aviv’s Garden City, which documents how Sir Patrick Geddes’ vision continues to shape the city’s urban fabric, includes multidisciplinary works by dozens of artists (photo by Yael Schmidt / Liebling Haus)

On April 11, 1909, 60 families gathered on the beach north of Jaffa to draw lots for the parcelization of the sand dunes they had purchased north of the ancient port. This moment in Israel’s history has been much mythologized, but one thing is clear – those garden suburb pioneers were clueless about urban planning. They turned their backs on the site’s most notable feature – its iconic Mediterranean beach.

The village that the founders initially named Ahuzat Bayit (Homestead), now called Tel Aviv, grew haphazardly, house by house, with an interruption during the First World War, when the Ottoman Turks expelled the newly established town’s Jews. In 1921, following the arrival of the British during the war and the replacement of their military rule with a civil administration, the growing suburb was granted township status separate from the neighbouring Arab-majority city of Jaffa.

It became clear that the township’s slapdash growth needed to be regulated. Into this planning chaos stepped Sir Patrick Geddes (1854-1932), a Scottish-born polymath who was at once a biologist, sociologist, landscape theorist and pioneering urban planner. The 62-page plan for Tel Aviv that he drew up a century ago remains among the most important documents in the history of the city. Liebling Haus – an architectural and cultural centre located in downtown Tel Aviv – recently opened the exhibit Life, Plant, City: 100 Years of Geddes’ Plan for Tel Aviv’s Garden City. It documents how Geddes’ vision continues to shape the city’s urban fabric, featuring not only archival materials but multidisciplinary works by dozens of artists and other contemporary interpretations of Geddes’ ideas and reflections on the city’s future.

photo - Sir Patrick Geddes (1854-1932) was a Scottish-born polymath who was a biologist, sociologist, landscape theorist and pioneering urban planner — Sir Patrick Geddes (1854-1932) was a Scottish-born polymath who was a biologist, sociologist, landscape theorist and pioneering urban planner. (photo from shbt.org.uk/knowledge)

In 1925, Geddes – who earned a reputation for his urban planning in 18 cities in British India – was invited by Tel Aviv’s mukhtar, Meir Dizengoff, to prepare the first master plan to guide the town’s growth. (Tel Aviv achieved city status in 1934.)

Geddes believed that cities were living organisms, shaped by the interplay of nature, society and culture. This holistic approach – unusual for its time – made him particularly attractive to Zionist leaders, who envisioned Tel Aviv as both a future-facing modern metropolis and a cultural project rooted in Jewish history.

His plan was deeply influenced by the Garden City movement, but Geddes adapted it to the climate and social context of the Levant. It emphasized shaded streets to mitigate the Mediterranean heat, wide boulevards that encouraged airflow and social life, and parks and squares as communal anchors. Human-scale residential blocks were arranged around shared green spaces and courtyards.

Geddes’ plan expanded Tel Aviv north from its early neighbourhoods to the Yarkon River. It was delineated by the Mediterranean Sea to the west and what is now Ibn Gabirol Street to the east. Into this flat and featureless space, Geddes laid out a skein of streets with a clear hierarchy. Main north-south and east-west arteries allowed for speedy movement across the city. Secondary streets were narrower and designed for local circulation. Small residential lanes fostered neighbourhood intimacy. The goal was to create a walkable city that balanced efficiency with livability.

photo - On display at Liebling Haus: One of the artworks inspired by Sir Patrick Geddes’ century-old plan for Tel Aviv — On display at Liebling Haus: One of the artworks inspired by Sir Patrick Geddes’ century-old plan for Tel Aviv. (photo by Yael Schmidt / Liebling Haus)

The plan also contained what later scholars have identified as anarchist or cooperative elements. It emphasized worker-led housing blocs and resisted speculative land practices. These ideas resonated with the social and economic conditions of Tel Aviv in the 1920s and 1930s, when workers wanted architecture that reflected their egalitarian values.

Although Geddes’ plan was not executed in its entirety, its core principles shaped the development of the White City, which was recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003. By the 1930s, Tel Aviv had some 4,000 white Bauhaus-style buildings constructed within the distinctive blocks, boulevards and public gardens Geddes laid out.

Bauhaus was a school of arts, crafts and architecture that operated in Germany from 1919 to 1933. The rise of the Nazi party led to the shuttering of the academy. Some 60,000 Jews left Nazi Germany and Austria for Mandatory Palestine, including architects who didn’t study at the Bauhaus school but were greatly influenced by its style. There, they created a revolutionary, streamlined architectural style that suited the modernist ethos of Zionism.

Tel Aviv’s amalgam of Bauhaus (also called International Style) buildings arose from an accident of historical coincidence: first came Geddes’ town plan; then the wave of mass aliyah triggered by the Nazis’ ascent to power in 1933, which triggered an urgent demand for housing; and, thirdly, the International Style’s lack of expensive decorative features made the cost of construction relatively low. No decorative tiles or ornamental plasterwork meant cheaper construction that could be executed by less-specialized craftsmen.

For the Yekke newcomers, many of whom had to leave significant assets behind, cheaper housing that didn’t sacrifice style was a major draw. The streamlined design with porthole windows, curved walls and balconies was a snub to the values of Central Europe, which the newcomers had barely escaped.

Liebling Haus, built in 1936, is an example of this architectural era. While not designed by Geddes, it manifests the urban environment his plan envisioned. The house’s clean lines, functional design and integration with the surrounding streetscape reflect the synergy between Geddes’ urbanism and the architectural modernism that followed. The Life, Plant, City exhibit runs to May 31.

Gil Zohar is a journalist and tour guide based in Jerusalem.

Sanctuary garden benefits

Gal Raviv, left, and Prof. Tamir Klein in the plant sanctuary at Weizmann Institute of Science in Rehovot, Israel. (photo from Weizmann Institute of Science)

When PhD student Gal Raviv thought of creating a sanctuary garden at the Weizmann Institute of Science, what she had in mind was saving endangered plants. But, after the Oct. 7, 2023, attack on Israel, the garden became for her a refuge of serenity and strength. “There’s something grounding about plants that keep growing no matter what happens around us. If they can do it, so can we,” she said. “They represent what the land of Israel can produce and, in these difficult times, they symbolize our own roots in this land.”

Raviv came up with the idea of the garden after hearing a lecture on plant conservation at a conference that Prof. Tamir Klein, whose Weizmann lab specializes in tree research, had organized at the institute. In late summer of 2023, they set up the garden in Weizmann’s greenhouses, with full backing from Weizmann’s Institute for Environmental Sustainability.

Raviv’s doctoral research, conducted in Prof. David Margulies’s lab, is unrelated to plants and focuses on molecular aspects of cancer therapy. Nonetheless, she volunteered to tend the garden, getting crucial help from the greenhouse staff and relying on their expertise.

“When people hear about endangered species, they usually think of a toad whose swamp has dried up, or other animals or birds. But at the basis of any ecosystem are plants: they are the very foundation of our existence,” Raviv said.

“Plant diversity supports diverse insects that in turn provide food for birds and animals. When plant species go extinct, their loss can disrupt the integrity of an entire ecosystem,” added Klein.

Of some 2,300 wild plants found in Israel, more than 400 are in danger of extinction, according to the Red Book of Israel’s Nature and Parks Authority. Plant species that are unique to Israel are particularly threatened: there are about 55 such species, and 35 of them are endangered.

“We have a global responsibility to preserve these plants,” Klein said.

The major threat to plants is habitat loss, which in Israel is especially acute along the Mediterranean. Sand dunes and other parts of the coastal plain are home to an unusually large proportion of wild plant species, yet, to the plants’ misfortune, that’s also where humans love to settle. Less than 30% of the pristine coastal sands that used to line the Mediterranean in the early 20th century remained undeveloped by the beginning of the 21st. These sands might disappear altogether if left unprotected.

There are several plant sanctuaries in Israel, but not all have the proper climate to grow coastal plants outdoors, whereas the Weizmann campus, with weather that’s similar to that of the coast, is well suited to this end. Raviv and Klein kept this in mind when preparing a list of plant species for the sanctuary. The final list was compiled in collaboration with the Israel Nature and Parks Authority, which also provided seeds.

Now in its third year, Weizmann’s sanctuary garden holds some 20 endangered plants, a number of which are unique to Israel’s coastal plain; others also grow in neighbouring regions. Most are flowering annuals, but there are also perennials, as well as two species of ancient wheat, genetic relatives of today’s crop varieties. These plants are gradually revealing their preferences and personalities to Raviv and the greenhouse staff, while occasionally serving up challenges and surprises.

For example, since the greenhouses have no bees or other natural pollinators, some of the plants bloomed but produced no seeds. “So, I became the bee,” Raviv said.

To help some species, she made adjacent flowers “kiss,” that is, touch in a way that pollen from one flower could get to the stigma, or ovary system, of another – a process known as self-pollination or cross-pollination, depending on whether the two flowers belong to the same plant or to different ones. She did that, for instance, for Erodium subintegrifolium, known as stork’s bill in Europe and heron’s bill in North America.

In other species – such as the perennial Salvia eigii, named for the botanist Alexander Eig – the reproductive organs are too deep inside the flower for the kiss method to work. Raviv came up with a creative solution. She collected whisker hairs shed by her three cats and used them to transfer pollen from one flower to the stigma of another.

Luckily for Raviv, however, most plants in the sanctuary garden manage to pollinate by themselves.

Other challenges now solved include “late bloomers.” Silene modesta, from a genus also known as campion or catchfly – an annual plant that grows in sandy soil on the coast and in the western Negev desert – thrived in the sanctuary garden from the start. However, even though it produced lots of flower buds, these seemed to dry up before getting a chance to bloom.

A plant conservation expert told Raviv to open one of the dried buds to see if it contained seeds. Indeed, it did, which meant that it had bloomed at some point without being caught in the act. So Raviv went to the garden late at night and, sure enough, found the slender Silene in full bloom. Keeping the bud closed after sunrise is the plant’s strategy for reducing water evaporation during the hot hours, while also protecting its flowers from the strong daytime coastal winds.

The discovery prompted Raviv to initiate a research project in which she compares Silene modesta with its non-endangered relative, Silene palaestina. The goal is to uncover the biochemical processes that ensure water conservation in the endangered plant.

In fact, a major goal of plant conservation is to preserve valuable properties that might be lost forever should their carriers disappear. Revealing the mechanisms behind such properties might make it possible to transfer them to other plants to, for example, help them grow in arid conditions or otherwise adapt to the adversities of climate change.

– Courtesy Weizmann Institute of Science