JDC

Helping Ukrainian refugees

On March 5, in western Ukraine, children and families make their way to the border to cross into Poland. (photo © UNICEF/Viktor Moskaliuk)

A friend described to me once what Warsaw looked like in the aftermath of the Second World War. A small boy then, he remembered vividly the ripped apartment buildings, whole sides of buildings missing. When you raised your head, he said, you could see a bed up there, one leg hanging over the precipice, the chimney, a chair stuck in half fall. The lives turned into ruins and exposed.

The “noble” war, as Russian President Vladimir Putin calls it, has killed thousands. Other thousands have been taken into filtration camps by Russians. The war has uprooted the lives of millions. It has separated wives from husbands, children from fathers. It has laid bare what is usually concealed from the eyes of a stranger: human attachments and loves, support for one another and acts of kindness. But also, the seismic faults running through so many families; their discontents, their arguments, and the way they cope with them in the time of crises.

Inadvertently, I became privy to the lives of many simply because I happened to be there at the time of their great vulnerability and need. Those I met (and, with rare exceptions, these were women with children) were going through the horrors and desolation of war. All, without exception, were traumatized. All needed practical help, advice, information and, above all, empathy.

But what they also needed, I discovered, was to talk about what they had gone through. That need was spontaneous and raw. They broke into stories easily and without invitation on my part. Each story was different, yet many followed the similar pattern: destruction and loss of property or homes; weeks in basements with scarce water, food supplies and electricity; the howl of air raid sirens; separation from loved ones and concern about their well-being; screams of traumatized children; and, then, finally evacuation, finally escape, over many days. Escape on foot, by trains, buses or sometimes cars, with detours necessitated by rockets and missiles; crossing rivers on boats where bridges were blown up.

I heard repeated gratitude to Ukrainian volunteers who facilitated the escapes, relaying families from one safe place to another; informing about the dangers on the way and how to bypass them. I heard stories of churches that sheltered families overnight; of people harbouring strangers in their homes; of volunteers who organized food that awaited fleeing families at different points of their long and hazardous journey to safety. I learned a new word – humanitarka, meaning clothing (and perhaps food) that poured into Ukraine from the West as humanitarian aid.

And I heard stories of the brutality of Russian soldiers towards civilians. I heard stories of looting, torture and rape. I heard stories of Russian soldiers leaving villages and shooting in their wake every cow, every chicken, so that the owners would be left with nothing; gratuitously smashing all the preservatives Ukrainians traditionally prepare for winter. I heard how Russian soldiers pretended they would allow villagers to run to safety, only to shoot them in their legs, and finish them off later like hunted animals. I heard stories of booby-trapped corpses, of Russians abandoning their dead.

In the two-and-a-half weeks I volunteered with the Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) at a border crossing and in a refugee shelter several kilometres away from the Polish border with Ukraine, I met people of all walks of life – I met the Ukrainian Nation.

I met a grandmother who escaped missiles with her six grandchildren and made it to Poland while the parents of the children had perished.

I met a man, a welder, looking after his old and infirm mother. They couldn’t possibly live with any family, the man explained, because his mother became psychotic and incontinent, and he regularly had to clean up after her. The welder was now trying to bring to Poland his former wife with her new husband and their three children, one of whom was his.

I met 60 elderly Baptists from Zaporizhzhia who were on the way to Amsterdam, where a sister Baptist church was going to shelter them. Zaporizhshia is the site of the largest atomic plant in Europe and it had been overtaken by Russian soldiers. It’s the city where my relatives live. Talking to these refugees, I realized that my aunt had been concealing the truth from me all along: the rockets are falling 10 kilometres away from the city.

I discovered that the most painful subject and the last thing that came up in conversations was the fact that women had had to leave their loved ones behind. The worry for their soldier sons and husbands, their parents, grandparents and siblings, was a deeply hidden, yet constant, heartbreak. It was a breaking point for many. I will not forget those eyes, dozens and dozens of women’s eyes: blue, grey, greenish; eyes magnified by tears at the thought of the separation from loved ones. When a collective image of Ukraine comes to my mind, it’s women’s eyes. Embarrassed to cry in front of me, a stranger, they tried to look away. The older sister would often say to the younger, “Enough already, just stop it!” while breaking into tears herself.

Another move that caused tears was my offering of money to refugees, the generous donations that I had received while I was still in Vancouver. In Canada, I had packed lots of envelopes to put the money into, for a civilized handout. How naïve I was! In the chaos of a refugee centre, it was quickly handing over money from hands to hands. A scared look and the initial refusal to accept was universal. I had to come up with some strategy to overcome the mutual embarrassment. “This is not my money,” I would say. “This is from Canadian friends, people like you. Canadians care about you. They want to help you. But they can’t be here. They asked me to do it for them. Please take it.” A grateful look. Tears. A hug.

The refugee centre was a temporary shelter. Refugees could spend several nights there and then move on: to some city, some country.

The vast majority of the refugees I met were determined to return home once the war was over. But they had made it to Poland and many would have liked to stay there while the war was raging. Poland was familiar; it has cultural and historical ties with Ukraine, especially with the western part of Ukraine.

In the post-Soviet times, before this war, thousands of Ukrainians had gone to Poland for work: a member of the European Union, Polish standards of living and salaries were higher than Ukrainian. Besides, the Polish language was closer to Ukrainian than any others of the countries that came forward to help. It would be manageable somehow; it could be learned, if not by everybody, at least by the younger people. But Poland couldn’t take in any more refugees. Posters in the refugee centre read in Ukrainian: “We are happy to welcome you, but our cities are full. Our small rural communities are cozy and peaceful. Consider moving there.” But even small villages were full and couldn’t afford to welcome any more people.

The women who arrived at the refugee centre accepted with resignation the fact that they would have to be on the move again. The way they decided where to go next somewhat surprised me: it wasn’t on the basis of a better financial package or living conditions. Rather, the criteria was proximity to Ukraine. The first question that women asked me about various countries also seemed unusual: they wanted to know if they would be able to find work quickly. I would talk about the hardships they had just endured; the necessity to rest, to take a break, to look around first. But that didn’t register. They have worked all their lives, they said. They are used to work. Living for free at somebody’s expenses was a no-no.

Most of the Ukrainian women I met were mild-mannered and perhaps less assertive, less forceful, compared to North American ones. All were both surprised and grateful for the help and goodwill they’d seen from so many. They couldn’t praise enough what the Poles did for them. They were deeply touched by the smallest acts of kindness. And none took the help for granted. “If this happened to other nations and we, Ukrainians, would have to do this for somebody else, would we have done the same? I am not sure,” said one woman.

Few discussed the wider political implications of the war. They didn’t talk about Putin or his goals, or the future of their country. Their concerns were more practical and immediate: food, clothing and the well-being of their children, their elderly mothers.

But I remember one woman, Nina, and her fiery indignation: “What have we done to Russians? What do they want from us? We didn’t bother anybody. Nazi? What Nazi? We live peacefully with our neighbours: gypsies, Jews, Ukrainians, Russians. We all speak Ukrainian and Russian!”

Another, older, woman, while waiting for the bus to Germany, was even more emphatic: “You tell me why Russians believe Putin’s propaganda? Why do they have the mentality of slaves? We Ukrainians may have our problems. But we’re free people. Russians are slaves! Slaves.” (The word “slave” in Russian usage has strongly negative connotations, implying the qualities of subservience, fear, and the desire to please the master.)

I thought about these words. I don’t have an answer to her question. Nor do I have any convincing arguments against her harsh indictment.

* * *

photos - Refugees entering Poland from Ukraine at the Medyka border crossing point — Refugees entering Poland from Ukraine at the Medyka border crossing point. *(photo © UNHCR/Chris Melzer)*

I’m still trying to comprehend and, in some way, come to terms with what I experienced over 16 days. It began when I flew into Warsaw from Vancouver and was picked up at the airport by a JDC representative. Together with two volunteers from the United States, we were driven to the Polish-Ukrainian border, where a small group of Holocaust survivors was to arrive. The drive took four to five hours and, by the time we got to the border, it was totally dark and bitterly cold.

Arrangements had been made with Germany that it would take in the Holocaust survivors. The German Red Cross ambulance bus had traveled 13 hours. I learned later that everybody in the ambulance was a volunteer – the driver was a history teacher, the three women were professional nurses donating hours and hours of service.

I wondered how it was possible to find a few Holocaust survivors in a warring country and bring them to safety. It turned out that the Jewish Agency had used the lists of survivors receiving financial assistance before the war to contact and evacuate them.

What struck me most at the time was the sight of several empty white canvass stretchers on the dirt next to the bus. It started to drizzle; the Germans stacked the stretchers and covered them with a tarp. The stretchers, soon to be filled with people, were a menacing sign of the proximity of war, invisible yet close. When the bus from Ukraine finally arrived, one body was carried out on a stretcher. So emaciated and skeletal was this body that, for a moment, I wondered why they were transporting a corpse with the living. When I looked closer, I saw that it was a woman, wounded and emaciated to an extreme degree but alive. For the next while, the Germans administered an IV to the seemingly unresponsive body. I overheard a conversation between two nurses: one wondering if the woman would be able to make it to Germany. They asked her a question – I translated – was she in pain? The woman shook her head. The Germans proceeded to take care of others.

Six other women got off the bus with some help from the Red Cross people and us.

One lady clutched her battered black purse that was overflowing with some papers. She refused to board the ambulance bus. A nurse and I held her up against the bitter wind, while she told us that her son was waiting for her here, around the corner, that he was going to pick her up. We finally figured out what she meant: her son was in Germany and she believed that she had arrived to Germany, not Poland. Efforts were made to contact her son right there, and somebody got him on the phone or they said they did, I’m not sure. But somehow the matter was settled: the woman agreed to board the ambulance.

None of these old and frail women escaped with any possessions to speak of: a handbag, a sack, was all they managed to take. But that little something was now the focus of their attention; a symbol of their lost nests, and they feverishly clung to it.

One woman finally settled on a stretcher inside the ambulance, her purse sitting on top of her chest. Another plowed through her handbag in search of a watch, the only item left from her late husband, she said; she couldn’t find it, believed it was stolen and was distraught.

Yet another was worried about her frequent need to urinate. A nurse and I led her to the blue booths on the side of the road. She whispered in my ear, asking if I could take her alone: the nurse had accompanied her to the booth before; it was too embarrassing to need to go again.

None of the Holocaust survivors seemed to be clear about what was going on and where they were going next. Finding out that there would be another 13 hours of travel to Frankfurt on top of the hours of travel behind her, one of the passengers refused to go. “I won’t be able to take it,” she said. “I lived through German occupation once and now it’s the Russians. I’ve had enough.”

The last to arrive (I think in a separate bus) was a man. With nothing in his hands, he seemed to be unperturbed by the lack of any worldly possessions. He came from Kyiv. “I didn’t want to leave. But I’m an invalid. I live on the third floor and can’t go downstairs into the basement during the air raids,” he explained. “My son was worried and decided to pack me off to Germany. One way or the other, what difference does it make for me after all I’ve lived through? I remember the Germans. They didn’t do to us what the Russians are doing.”

For almost anyone, this would be the most stunning statement. The Nazis, the Germans, and their allies, committed terrible atrocities during the Second World War (“the Great Patriotic War,” as it was officially called in the Soviet Union, where I grew up). They were inhuman in their cruelty; they were beasts. I still remember the games of my childhood that we played in our yards: the good guys were Russians, the bad ones were Nazis, the Fritzes, as we called them.

I thought about it as I was watched the German nurses taking care, with utmost attention and patience, of the elderly Ukrainian Jews, the Holocaust survivors, escaping Russian atrocities in the 21st century.

Marina Sonkina is a fiction writer, and teaches in the Liberal Arts Program 55+ at Simon Fraser University. She immigrated to Canada with her two then-young sons, as the Soviet Union was breaking up. When Russia attacked Ukraine, she applied as a volunteer with the Jewish Joint Distribution Committee. She arrived in Poland early this month and was a frontline responder for 16 days, offering refugees medical and psychological support.

A rewarding trip to Siberia

Several Vancouverites traveled to Siberia to see members of the Jewish community, which the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver helps support. (photo from Michael Moscovich)

Last September, a group of seven travelers representing the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver set off on an expedition to the far east of Siberia. Jews going to Siberia? Had to be a very good reason. And there was.

For more than a decade, the Jewish Federation, in partnership with the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC), has been contributing to the support of Jews in need, wherever they may live in the world. Federation’s Israel and overseas committee chose to help the closest Jewish communities in abject poverty and those are in Siberia’s far east. Khabarovsk is the main city in the area and Birobidzhan is the capital of the Jewish republic, or oblast, of Russia. Jewish republic! Long story.

photo - The Russian city of Khabarovsk — The Russian city of Khabarovsk. *(photo from Michael Moscovich)*

Khabarovsk is about the size of Winnipeg and the winters are about the same, only a little colder – when we were there in the fall, it was generally above 20°C. Birobidzhan has a population of only about 75,000 and both cities are located by very large rivers. Each has a new synagogue/community centre.

photo - The synagogue in Birobidzhan — The synagogue in Birobidzhan. *(photo from Michael Moscovich)*

In Siberia, the younger people have jobs and seem to do well, but the pensioners are lost. Their pensions may have been adequate 20 years ago but the ruble has fallen to two cents. Their income is maybe $20 to $40 a month. Their choice is to feed themselves, heat their home or buy their medicines. Through the JDC, Federation makes it possible to do all three by supplementing their monthly income. It also supports people with disabilities who are unable to work.

I am a founding member of Federation and its Israel and overseas committee, and have visited Jewish communities in Poland, western Russia, Austria, Morocco and Cuba. No Vancouver representative had visited our Siberian partners before to see what we’re helping to accomplish. The trip was very rewarding. We saw signs of the rebirth of Siberian Jewish life.

The Russian city of Khabarovsk. (photo from Michael Moscovich) — The Russian city of Khabarovsk. *(photo from Michael Moscovich)*

photo - Biribojan, in Yiddish — Biribojan, in Yiddish. *(photo from Michael Moscovich)*

Most of the people we met were not English speakers, but we had enough interpreters that language was never a problem. We were also bonded by Yiddishkeit, though the community had had no Jewish education or ceremonies for decades, since Stalin decided to ban the Jewish part of the Jewish republic. No one even spoke a word of Yiddish – this in a place where there was a thriving Yiddish-based culture until the 1950s. But the street signs in Birobidzhan are still written in Yiddish and there are other symbols of Jewish life, such as a menorah on the monument at the train station.

During our visit, we joined in baking challot and delivered them to elderly widows. Upon entering one home, our hostess staggered and almost collapsed. Subsequently, whenever she looked at me she blanched and teared up. I asked what was the matter and she said I looked so much like her father it was like seeing a ghost. She showed me pictures of him and, indeed, he was a handsome devil and doppelgänger.

There are maybe 15,000 Jews left in the area. All have the option of relocating to Israel and most have. However, one guy returned, as there was no ice fishing in Israel. Another returned as a Chabad rabbi to lead the Birobidzhan congregation. A young woman came back to be with her grandmother. So many stories.

The elderly spoke to us of the war and survival. I asked what happens to the non-Jewish people in similar circumstances with no outside support. They just died, was the reply. We are truly saving lives.

Supporting Israelis in need

Dr. William and Ruth Ross (photo from Canadian Associates of Ben-Gurion University)

Dr. William Hy Ross tears up talking about the motivation behind his philanthropic activities in Israel. Sitting behind a desk in his room at the medical clinic he runs, over which hangs a watercolour painting of the Mount of Olives, Ross said it is because of the grandparents he never met, both of whom died in the Holocaust. “If we had a state back then, that wouldn’t have happened,” he said. “I would have grandparents.”

Ross met with the Jewish Independent last week to talk about the projects the Ross Foundation has undertaken in Israel, projects aimed at lifting up the underprivileged on the fringes of society there. He was accompanied by Sagie Shein, senior program manager of the Jewish American Joint Distribution Committee (JDC). Shein has acted as philanthropic advisor to Ross, and was recently made the fund manager of the Ross Family Foundation, in which role, he told the JI, he identifies projects that will achieve the foundation’s goals in Israel, whether through JDC or otherwise.

Ross and Shein met after Rabbi Shmuel Birnham, formerly of Congregation Har El, introduced Ross to Prof. Jack Habib of the Myers-JDC-Brookdale Institute in Jerusalem. Shein has now been working with the Ross foundation for six years.

Ross is a surgeon and a clinical professor of ophthalmology at the University of British Columbia. In 2012, he established the Morris and Sarah Ross International Fellowship in Vitreo-Retinal Surgery, which funds the training of ophthalmologists from Israel, including, so far, 12 Israeli Jews, three Israeli Muslims and three Israeli Christians.

Also in 2012, he and his wife, Ruth, established the Ross Family Scholarship Program for Advanced Studies in the Helping Professions, which funds education for nurses and social workers serving in the underserved peripheral communities of Israel. Their contributions have gone to select students at Ben-Gurion University (BGU) and they have been recognized as founders of the university, in honour of their contributions. The Ross Foundation appears on the walls of BGU’s Marcus Campus in Be’er Sheva.

In 2016, the Ross Foundation

extended its activity to another initiative – the Project for the Advancement of Employment for Ethiopian Immigrants, which supports the education of engineers, web developers and others.

“Israel is a fantastic success story,” said Ross. “You hear about the start-up companies, etc., but there is a whole fringe society who doesn’t have any of those advantages.”

Ross spoke to the JI about the particular importance of supporting Ethiopian Jewish immigrants in Israel. “When they’re done serving in the army, they often end up in dead-end jobs,” he said. “We are providing living expenses for them in a way that is a game-changer, allowing them to get jobs as practical engineers and in other needed industries.”

Ross and Shein explained that, even when given support to pay for education, many underprivileged Israelis cannot afford to stop working and go to school full-time. The Ross Foundation’s initiatives give recipients a stipend that allows them to stop working and complete a course of education. The foundation is also supporting other communities facing challenges in the workplace, like Arabs and Charedim.

“JDC empowers all Israelis as a social innovation incubator, developing pioneering social services in conjunction with the Israeli government, local municipalities, nonprofits and other partners to lift the lives of Israel’s children at risk, elderly, unemployed, and people with disabilities,” Michael Geller, JDC’s director of media relations, told the Independent.

Operating since 1914, JDC has provided “more than $2 billion in social services and aid to date,” he said.

The JDC funds and organizes experimental programs in the hope that the government will see their success and launch similar efforts.

“We’re looking to pilot programs that can be adopted by the Israeli government,” Ross said.

“In 2020,” added Shein, “the foundation is expected to further expand its activities to additional programs based on the foundation vision.”

“Hy and Ruthie Ross really get Israel,” said David Berson, executive director of Canadian Associates of BGU for British Columbia and Alberta. “They speak the language of social impact and they lead by example. I am so impressed and moved by their understanding of the human equation for social change. Great training, proper guidance and supportive accompaniment can lead to gainful employment.

“As a social worker who trained and worked in Israel with some of her significant social challenges for two decades years, I know that Hy and Ruthie really understand the most critical needs of Israel. It is also an honour for me to be able to partner with JDC Israel, one of Israel’s most noteworthy agencies of real social mobility and empowerment for Israel’s most at-risk populations.”

Ross summed up the strong belief that drives his philanthropy in Israel simply: “I believe every Jew has an obligation to support Israel in some way.”

Matthew Gindin is a freelance journalist, writer and lecturer. He is Pacific correspondent for the CJN, writes regularly for the Forward, Tricycle and the Wisdom Daily, and has been published in Sojourners, Religion Dispatches and elsewhere. He can be found on Medium and Twitter.

Jewish history’s next chapter

The JDC’s Zoya Shvartzman is part of the FEDtalks lineup Sept. 16. (photo from JFGV)

In returning to Vancouver, Zoya Shvartzman is retracing the route that has seen the Moldova-born woman help “write the next chapter of the history of European Jewry.”

Those words, while spoken by Shvartzman, are not about herself – she was crediting North Americans and others who support the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) with helping revivify communities that were almost annihilated under Nazism and then suppressed by communism. But the work Shvartzman does in her role at the JDC means she could rightly claim to be among a number of authors altering the future for Jews in Europe.

Shvartzman and her parents made aliyah from the East European nation when she was 8 years old. At 15, she and her mother migrated to Vancouver. Here, the family had some hard times and they turned to the Jewish community.

“The Jewish community welcomed us with open arms and gave us almost a second home,” she recalled recently in a phone interview with the Independent. “It was a very, very fond memory of my time there and it has a lot to do with the Jewish community that became our family.” She will speak about this time when she presents as one of four speakers at FEDtalks, the opening event of the 2018 Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver annual campaign, Sept. 16.

Shvartzman chose to pursue a degree in international development studies and political science at McGill University and so, after four years on the West Coast, she and her mother decamped for Montreal.

“After that, I decided to move to Budapest to pursue my master’s in political science because I was focusing on Eastern European politics and transitions from communism to democracy,” she said. “Because I’m from that part of the world, it made sense to go back and be there, be where it’s taking place.”

She completed her studies at Central European University, which was founded and funded by the democracy philanthropist George Soros, and, after graduation, worked for the Canadian embassy in Budapest. In 2007, she was offered a position at the JDC, where she is now director of strategic partnerships.

Shvartzman’s role is to identify on-the-ground needs of Jewish communities in Europe and convey those needs to potential funders, primarily in North America. Federations, foundations and philanthropists then contribute to help the JDC complete its projects.

“In Europe, basically, our main mission is that we build resilient communities,” she said. “We help build communities where they were shattered after the Holocaust and after communist regimes.

“In Eastern and Central Europe, we help poor Jews with basic services like food and medicine and winter relief, help to pay their utilities,” she explained. “Most of the elderly are Holocaust survivors. We work extensively with Holocaust survivors together with the Claims Conference funding. In the last 10 years or so, we developed services for children and families, modeled on the JFS [Jewish Family Services] model that you’re familiar with in Canada and the U.S., addressing the needs of poor children and families.”

Examples of projects that the JDC has spearheaded or supported include a Jewish community centre in Warsaw and a summer camp in Hungary, where children from 25 countries come to strengthen – or, in some cases, learn about for the first time – their Jewish identity. But the work is not limited to Eastern and Central Europe.

In France, the JDC has opened a “resilience centre,” to help Jewish schools, social workers, teachers, children and families respond to threats experienced by Jews in the country. Several acts of anti-Jewish terror in recent years in France have compounded existing anxieties about the security of its Jewish population and institutions.

The decade-plus that Shvartzman has been with the JDC has been a time of challenge for Jews and others across the continent.

“Especially the last four or five years have been particularly tumultuous for Jews in Europe,” she said. “There are different threats – external, internal threats. We see communities that have nearly collapsed, like the community in Greece, in terms of the economic crisis that really, really shattered it.”

In addition to the generalized economic challenges experienced by people in many countries, Jews have faced particular difficulties. Rising antisemitism and political extremism in places like Hungary and Poland have stoked once-dormant apprehensions.

Even so, Shvartzman is bullish about Jewish life in Europe and plans to share her enthusiasm with Vancouverites.

“There are many causes for optimism,” she said. “When you look at the revival of Jewish life in Europe and how these communities have gone from survival to really thriving Jewish communities, I think that’s a big cause of optimism.

“This is quite remarkable when you consider the history and some of the deep, deep traumas that this community has suffered and, today, Jews are reclaiming their heritage and are proud to be Jewish,” she continued. “All of this gives us great causes of optimism that Jewish life in Europe is thriving.”

Shvartzman’s Moldovan childhood and her current work both reflect and embody the JDC’s mission to save and build Jewish lives, said Michael Geller, the JDC’s North American director of communications.

“In her professional life and her personal life and in her life’s journey, she understands quite deeply the importance, the critical importance, of the work we do every day to ensure that needy Jews have the basic needs to continue to live their lives and, in addition, to have a strong Jewish identity, one that is their own, that they make themselves, and one that we help strengthen and empower through the kind of work that we do,” he said.

Returning to the theme of writing the next chapter of European Jewish history, Shvartzman credits overseas allies with making possible all of the achievements she and the JDC have realized.

“It’s only possible because of the support of the North American communities, North American Jewry, that chose to invest in that part of the world over the past 20, 25 years,” she said. “If I had to underline one message, it would be that: North American Jewry helping to write the next chapter of the history of European Jewry.”

FEDtalks features keynote speakers Rabbi Irwin Kula, Pamela Schuller, Arik Zeevi and Zoya Shvartzman. The event takes place at the Vancouver Playhouse on Sept. 16, 7 p.m. Tickets ($36) are available from jewishvancouver.com.

Continuing to bring hope

Fantaye, Gary Segal and Tesfaye in 2015, on a return visit by Segal to Gojam, Ethiopia. (photo from Gary Segal)

Thirty-seven spine surgeries, six nursing/midwifery scholarships, development of Sebi Sarko Rural Health Centre and the establishment of a pediatric program reaching more than 14,000 children living in rural areas. That’s part of what has been accomplished with the $1 million-plus that was raised in Vancouver five years ago at An Evening to Bring Back Hope.

The 2012 event honoured Dr. Rick Hodes, medical director of Ethiopia for the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) and senior consultant at Mother Teresa Mission. It also established a partnership between JDC in Ethiopia and the University of British Columbia Branch for International Surgical Care. With the monies raised in 2012, UBC Branch has developed curriculum with Hodes and engaged in spine-disease research in Ethiopia; as well, there have been physician and nurse exchanges between UBC-Vancouver General Hospital and Ethiopia’s Gondar Hospital.

This year, on June 8, An Evening to Bring Back Hope honours both Hodes and spine surgeon Dr. Oheneba Boachie-Adjei, and raises funds for the continuation and expansion of their work, as well as that of JDC and UBC Branch. Boachie, president and founder of FOCOS (Foundation of Orthopedics and Complex Spine) in Accra, Ghana, has performed most of the complex surgeries on Hodes’ spine patients since the two doctors starting working together in 2006.

The fundraising event includes a symposium and lunch at Congregation Beth Israel, at which attendees will be able to ask JDC staff questions about JDC’s humanitarian work and philanthropy, and a gala dinner at Vancouver Convention Centre-East. Event partners are JDC, UBC Branch and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver. As in 2012, gala chairs are Gary and Nanci Segal.

“I am very pleased that Dr. Boachie will also be a focus of attention at the event,” Gary Segal told the Independent. Hodes, an observant Jew, and Boachie, a devout Baptist, “together work tirelessly to treat the sick and poor of all religions and ethnicities.”

“I truly believe that in today’s world filled with negativity, intolerance and discord, this cause and message of inclusion and multiculturalism resonates louder than ever,” said Segal.

Segal first met Hodes as part of a Federation/JDC trip to Ethiopia in 2007. He spent more time with Hodes on a family trip in 2008. “The more time I spent with Rick in clinic and at his home with his very large family of adopted and fostered children that all needed Rick’s help, the more heroic and inspiring Rick and his life story became to me,” said Segal. When hosting Hodes and his extended family of 18 children (at the time) for dinner, Segal learned that Tesfaye – whose spine had collapsed from tuberculosis – could not be operated on in Ghana, and thought, “I knew that I had to do whatever I could to save Tesfaye’s life.”

According to the fundraiser’s website, Segal “spent almost a year pursuing the possibility of bringing Tesfaye to Vancouver for spine surgery and, finally, on his 18th birthday, May 20, 2009, Tesfaye arrived in Vancouver and was welcomed into the Segal home. On June 12, ‘Team Tesfaye,’ led by surgeon Dr. Marcel Dvorak at VGH … successfully perform[ed] delicate 14-hour life-saving surgery.”

“For decades,” Segal told the Independent, “I have always given of my time and money to help a variety of community organizations and causes – I grew up with wonderful examples of this in both my mother and father. Helping Tesfaye was a unique experience, where the ‘giving back’ became such an intimate, personal and integral part of my life.

“On my 2010 trip back to Ethiopia after Tesfaye’s surgery, I retraced and revisited what his life was like before surgery. Understanding Tesfaye’s courage, dignity, perseverance and optimism – that he kept in the direst, most uncomfortable and debilitating of situations – motivates and inspires me daily, and always keeps my problems in perspective.

“Seeing the transformation in Tesfaye’s life and what it has meant to his family and entire village, further inspired me to found this Bring Back Hope initiative,” he continued. “One of the highlights of my life was that 2010 trip to Tesfaye’s remote village in Gojam – a typical village with mud huts, no electricity or running water – as the entire village celebrated his miraculous rebirth for three days, with feasting, chanting and Agew shoulder dancing. Seeing ‘up close and personal’ the impact of changing even one individual’s life, it became my vision to introduce Rick’s story to more people by holding a large dinner of caring people from different faiths and backgrounds, and to hopefully raise a lot of money to change more lives. Thus, the Bring Back Hope initiative was launched through the inaugural Evening to Bring Back Hope 2012.”

But his efforts extend beyond the events. “I never imagined before meeting Tesfaye that, one day, I would have a whole extended family in Ethiopia become part of my family,” he said.

It was hoped that Tesfaye’s sister, Fantaye, would be joining her brother at this year’s Bring Back Hope. Unfortunately, she won’t be able to make it – but for “good news” reasons, said Segal, “as she is about to graduate from Grade 12 at a high school in Ethiopia’s capital city Addis Ababa and the national exams she has to write to qualify for university only end on June 8.”

“I met Fantaye in February of 2010,” explained Segal, “when I flew over to Ethiopia to accompany Tesfaye on the journey out to his remote village in Gojam to be with him to experience his family and village seeing him standing upright for the first since he was crippled with TB of the spine at 8 years of age…. Tesfaye, living in the capital Addis Ababa since he was 12, heard that his mother wanted Fantaye to get married; he was concerned she was too young, being only 12 years old, and feared the husband’s family would force her, once she was married, to stop going to the village school. At his request, I asked his mother, Yeshi, to wait until Fantaye was older and completed school, but, sure enough, she was married a few months later, at the age of 12.”

When Segal returned to Ethiopia in December 2012 on a Bring Back Hope-related trip, he found, to his “surprise and delight,” that, “through Tesfaye’s persistence and insistence, Fantaye had left her husband and village to join her brother in Addis Ababa and live with him and go back to school. This took a lot of courage on the part of a then 14-year-old girl, going against the wishes of her family and entire village. At the same time, it took Tesfaye’s courage of conviction as to what was right for his sister for this to happen; I attribute this to Tesfaye understanding the greater world outside the village and Fantaye seeing the transformation of Tesfaye.”

Even after 27 years working with JDC in Ethiopia, Hodes still finds inspiration from his patients.

“The courage which Ethiopians live with who have spinal deformities is simply inspiring,” Hodes told the Independent. “Kids who are in pain but still go to school, kids who are teased at school but persist, kids who have no parents and are self-supporting as young teens but go to school and come for treatment.

“And the love which they show for each other is exemplary. I have a single mom who has a paralyzed son who has simply devoted her entire day – every day – to caring for this boy, who is now improving. In fact, I just brought him to Ghana five days ago for intensive physical therapy to see if we can jump-start his improvement.

“I bought a bag of cookies for a young boy with a bad back. He put them in his pocket. ‘Why don’t you eat it?’ I asked. ‘Later,’ he said, ‘I want to share it with my brother.’

“I have another mom who has a son who had a complex heart problem giving him very little oxygen. This boy could not walk more than three steps and the mom has made sure that he moves forward in life by carrying him, piggy-back, everywhere. She carried him to school, carries him home, brought him to Addis Ababa every month for phlebotomy, to remove the extra blood his body produces. And now he’s able to walk, after corrective heart surgery in India.

“I had an orphan boy with no relatives at all,” continued Hodes. “He came to Addis Ababa, supported himself by shining shoes, went to school and slept in a taxi at night until someone took him into their home. He, too, has had surgery and is now back in school.

“When I’m having a tough day – I frequently feel overwhelmed – it’s patients like this who keep me going, and remind me why I’m here.”

Hodes’ International Life-Saving Surgery Program 2016 annual report describes that year as “game-changing.”

“This was the first year that the Ethiopian government gave us support – they paid for the air tickets of 22 patients to Ghana for spine surgery,” explained the doctor. “They are continuing the air ticket support this year.”

Also in 2016, he said, “Our contract with the Ethiopian government ended its standard, three-year period and the program closed for evaluation. It was given an unprecedented five-year renewal.

“We have moved into new facilities at a government trauma hospital called AaBET [Addis Ababa Burn Emergency Medicine and Trauma] Hospital, where we see patients five days a week. We have started discussions to send two Ethiopian doctors to Canada for spine training. We now have several teams coming to Ethiopia to operate – in fact, we have three different spine teams coming this month, and will get at least 40 surgeries done inside Ethiopia!”

In addition to treatments, there have been discoveries. “We have described some new deformities, which we are now defining with Greek letters,” said Hodes. And, he added, “We believe we’ve made a major discovery about spine deformities caused by neurofibromatosis.”

In 2016, Hodes said there were 359 new spine patients, with 111 surgeries conducted on 105 patients. “We got two spines done in the U.S., and helped two patients go to India for heart care,” he said. “So far this year, we have 101 new spine patients.”

Hodes said the price for spinal surgeries ranges from $13,000 (or a little less) to $21,000, averaging about $18,000. For hearts, he said, “some patients need procedures (done in the catheterization laboratory) where a balloon is blown up to expand a narrowed valve or close a hole in the wall of the heart. Those cost around $2,000. Surgery costs depend on the complexity of the case, and generally run from $5,000-$10,000.

“If we get surgery done in North America, it’s at no cost to us, other than an air ticket. We just had two boys return from complicated surgery in Texas, and another from California.”

Hodes stressed, “I cannot sufficiently thank the people of Vancouver who are helping me. Their help is, quite literally, life-saving.”

For tickets to the gala ($500, with tax receipts issued for eligible portion) and sponsorship information, call Mercedes Dunphy at 604-710-4491 or Nanci Segal at 604-813-5550. For more information on the initiative, visit bringbackhope.com.

JDC delivers aid, relief

Israel is contributing to efforts to aid and assist the Nepalese government to reach, rescue and treat injured victims of the recent earthquake. The IDF has set up a comprehensive field hospital and also has flown out emergency rations and tents. (photos by IDF via Ashernet)

After Nepal was hit by the biggest earthquake in 80 years, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) is aiding thousands of survivors through its relief efforts with partners on the ground, and is dispatching its disaster relief team from Kathmandu to remote villages to deliver aid and assess emerging needs in hard-hit areas. The team is assisting in the delivery of first-aid and shelter supplies, hygiene items, oral re-hydration solution, food packages and other supplies to 1,400 families over the coming days.

“Even while we’re helping survivors to heal throughout Nepal, we know more must be done and urge the public to continue its generous support of critically needed relief in this devastated country,” said Mandie Winston, director of JDC’s International Development Program. “Millions of Nepalese are facing harrowing conditions and the need for their immediate care, recovery and reconstruction efforts is required to secure Nepal’s future. Our efforts are focused on that path and to ensure the dignity of every human life along the way.”

To date, JDC has operated on three fronts in Nepal: the deployment of its expert disaster relief team on the ground; the support of locally based partners to ensure medical care and relief supplies within days of the quake; and the packing and shipping of medical and humanitarian supplies from the United States. These efforts have ensured life-saving medical treatment, food, clean water and shelter for Nepalese victims still reeling from the disaster. It has also enabled the assessment of needs and delivery of aid in real time, in tandem with changes on the ground, and the coordination of JDC’s network of local and international non-governmental partners working in Nepal.

These partners include the IDF Field Hospital, Tevel b’Tzedek, UNICEF, the Afya Foundation, the All India Disaster Mitigation Institute, Sarvodaya – Teach for Nepal, Heart to Heart International and Magen David Adom.

JDC has provided immediate relief and long-term assistance to victims of natural and man-made disasters around the globe, including the Philippines, Haiti, Japan and South Asia after the Indian Ocean tsunami, and continues to operate programs designed to rebuild infrastructure and community life in disaster-stricken regions.

JDC’s disaster relief programs are funded by special appeals of the Jewish Federations of North America and tens of thousands of individual donors to JDC. JDC coordinates its relief activities with the U.S. Department of State, USAID, Interaction, the Israeli Foreign Ministry, Israeli agencies and the UN coordination mechanism OCHA.

To contribute to the Nepal relief efforts, contact Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver at 604-257-5100 or visit jewishvancouver.com/nepal-relief-fund.

Message to Vancouver

Masha Shumatskaya’s visit here was part of an American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee tour of North American cities. (photo from Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver)

All Masha Shumatskaya wants is for the fighting to stop so she can go home. The 24-year-old Jewish Ukrainian English teacher was living and working happily in the city of Donetsk until April 2014, when pro-Russian separatists arrived two hours north of her hometown and declared their intention to form a people’s republic.

Until that moment, her life had been quite ordinary. Shumatskaya, a slender beauty with gentle eyes, was one of some 15,000 Jews in Donetsk, a city that boasts a Jewish community centre, a Chabad-run synagogue, a kosher café and various Jewish youth and cultural groups. “I never once experienced antisemitism growing up there,” she said. “I was never afraid to say I was a Jew.”

By May 2014, the pro-Russian separatists had moved into Donetsk and were threatening the safety of civilians. They bombed the Donetsk airport and the violence forced the closure of many schools and business offices in the city. Shumatskaya and her friends began making plans to move to other cities in Ukraine, such as Kiev, Odessa and Kharkov. She chose Kharkov, five hours’ drive from Donetsk, leaving her parents behind.

But Shumatskaya is one of the lucky ones. There are some 7,000 Jews still living in the war zone in Ukraine, many of them elderly. They’re dependent on the Joint Distribution Committee’s aid for food, medical support, rental subsidies and basic necessities.

Shumatskaya was in Vancouver recently as a guest of JDC, where she met with Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver representatives and media to tell her story. With her was Michael Novick, executive director of the American Jewish JDC in Bellevue, Wash. “The situation in Ukraine has become a high priority for the JDC,” he said. “It’s not just the Jews, mostly elderly, still living in the conflict zone, but also the 2,500 Jews who’ve fled and need assistance, and another 60,000 Jews we’ve been helping all along with basic humanitarian supplies.” The JDC estimates the cost of its monthly relief for these Jews to be more than $387,000 US.

The political unrest has had widespread effect. The Ukrainian economy has plummeted, the purchasing power of the Ukrainian currency, the hryvnia, has dropped more than 50 percent and inflation is between 25 and 30 percent. “A year ago, the average pension of an elderly person we were assisting was equivalent to $150 US. Today, that same pension is only worth $50 US,” Novick said. “People have lost their jobs, their businesses, and Jews who could previously take care of their own families are now coming to the JDC’s Hesed welfare centres.”

The JDC has 32 Hesed welfare centres in Ukraine, and 160 of them across the former Soviet Union. Among those Jews requiring their services in Ukraine, Novick said they represent “the poorest Jews on earth, living in really dire conditions. For them, the lifeline provided by Hesed in terms of supplemental, basic humanitarian assistance, is vital.”

He added that the emergency funds being supplied by JDC are not part of its budget. “But the situation in Ukraine is so dire that we’re not waiting – we’re simply spending money and hoping that individuals, federations and foundations that meet Masha and hear about this story will come to our assistance.”

Shumatskaya’s 10-day visit to North America included stops in Seattle, Vancouver, Los Angeles, Philadelphia and New York. Last year, JFGV made a $25,000 grant to JDC for its various programs.

As she looked to the future, Shumatskaya was uncertain what it would hold for her. “I feel attached to Ukraine and I feel some responsibility to help with what’s going on there,” she said. “If I had to leave Kharkov I don’t know where I’d go. But I know that I don’t want to become a war refugee again. Once in my life was quite enough.”

Her message to Vancouver’s Jewish community is twofold: a reminder that Jews are responsible for each other, and one of gratitude for the support she and her fellow Ukrainian Jews have all ready received.

“Without that support we literally would not have survived,” she said. “I wish we could finish this need for assistance fast, but it’s out of our hands. We’re praying every day that we can live in a peaceful country without the assistance provided by the JDC.”

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond, B.C. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.

Jewish Cuba mission

Michael and Phyllis Moscovich in Cuba. (photo from Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver)

When community lay leaders Michael and Phyllis Moscovich were planning their most recent mission trip, they never imagined discovering Jewish ties to former Cuban president Fidel Castro, and the vibrant community that exists on the island.

Michael, a committed volunteer with Jewish Federation and a board member for several years, is currently a member of Federation’s Israel and overseas affairs committee, as well as its Partnership2Gether committee. He and Phyllis also jointly chair the Ethiopian students internship program. The couple’s shared passion for travel and interest in Jewry across the Diaspora has motivated them to participate in nine previous Federation missions. Last October, they participated in their first American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) mission to Havana, with a group of like-minded community members from North Carolina.

“I wanted to see Cuba before the regime changed and am always interested in Jewish communities elsewhere,” explained Michael.

JDC missions provide participants with a highly personal perspective on daily life for Jews and others in more than 70 countries in which JDC operates.

Cuban Jews have lived on the island for centuries, some tracing their ancestry as far back as the late 15th century to “anusim” who fled the Spanish Inquisition. In a February 2007 story, the New York Times estimated that there were about 1,500 identified Jews living in Cuba, most of them (about 1,100) living in Havana. The article added, “This small Jewish presence [in 2007] is in stark contrast to the bustling community that existed before Fidel Castro came to power in 1959. In those days, there were 15,000 Jews and five synagogues in Havana alone.”

JDC’s re-entry into Cuba in 1991 has sparked a Jewish resurgence on the island and a growing awareness of the community and its rich history. As it does elsewhere across the globe, JDC, in partnership with the local community, provides assistance to Cuba’s Jews, develops Jewish leaders and has prompted a revitalization of Jewish life. Working with JDC, the community has established a Jewish summer camp, adult education, an Israeli dance festival and communal holiday celebrations.

The mission visited all the operating synagogues in Havana, the Jewish cemetery and all the major tourist sites. “We met several times with members of the community, highlighted for us by a lunch with an unassuming fellow who spoke little English,” shared Michael. “By the end of lunch, we had determined he had been Fidel’s personal bodyguard for over a decade.”

One of the more surprising revelations of the trip for Michael and Phyllis is that there never seems to have been overt antisemitism in Cuba. “Fidel never even knew our guy was Jewish, until he attended a Chanukah celebration at one of the synagogues where one of the members mentioned that his bodyguard was a synagogue member,” Michael remarked. Also noteworthy is the fact that the young people are allowed to make aliyah, when almost no one else is allowed exit visas.

The opportunity to immerse themselves in the community was enlightening. “My expectations were all met. Seeing Havana, [getting a taste of] the regime, getting a sense of what 45 years of communism can do to an otherwise colorful and vibrant country,” said Michael. More remarkable from his perspective was “seeing the Jewish community and how it is sustaining itself.”

Michael and Phyllis took away with them enduring memories of the tenacity of the Jewish community and the vibrancy of the entire population, despite the hardships the regime has brought on its people. “It was great to travel with similarly committed Jews, to see the great work JDC has done, to meet our brethren, to see again what communism does and doesn’t do, to see it crumbling however slowly,” Michael explained. “The experience re-confirmed my personal commitment to the community, here and overseas.”

Federation invites you to participate in a mission trip to Vienna, Budapest and Israel, with mission chairs Anita and Arnold Silber, from Oct. 11-22, 2015. Visit the Israel and Overseas Experiences page on Federation’s website (jewishvancouver.com) for more information about opportunities to visit Israel and experience Jewish life in communities around the world. You can also donate to this year’s campaign via the website.

– This article was originally published in eYachad, and is reprinted with permission.