Local Israeli cover band HaOpziot will get people dancing at this year’s Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrations on April 21. (photo from JFGV)
“As we hold Israel close to our hearts, we are reminded that our connection transcends oceans,” wrote Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, in a recent enewsletter. “We have the power to bring Israel closer, to feel it and to celebrate it together right here at home through our community’s signature Yom Ha’atzmaut event.”
On Yom Ha’atzmaut, April 21, 7:30 p.m., Israeli musician and producer Ben Golan will headline our local celebration of Israel’s 78th Independence Day. (See jewishindependent.ca/story-of-israels-north.)
Golan came onto Federation’s radar when Shanken saw him perform during a 2024 visit to our community’s partnership region in Israel, the Upper Galilee. Golan is from Kiryat Shmona, where he also runs a recording studio.
In addition to his own performance, Golan will join local Israeli cover band HaOpziot for a couple of songs during their set.
HaOpziot is comprised of Goor Cohen (vocals, guitar), Kobi Gabay (vocals, guitar), Yotam Ronen (bass guitar), Avishai Weissberg (lead guitar) and Omer Yehi Shalom (drums). The group was founded by Ronen and the band’s former drummer, Maoz Kaufmann, in 2022. The pair posted a call-out on Facebook looking for musicians.
“The rest of us responded, we clicked instantly, and the Optziot were born,” said Cohen.
The band performs a few times a year, at clubs around Vancouver, as well as at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. To find out where and when they’re playing, people can follow the band on social media: Instagram, Facebook and/or YouTube.
When asked how to describe their musical sound or style, Cohen said, “In short: high-energy, loud and often fast.
“Our sound is a fusion of hard rock, punk and heavy metal, with subtle touches of Mizrahi influences, creating a style that strongly resonates with Israeli musical taste and culture,” he elaborated.
Each band member brings their different influences to the music, said Cohen, “ranging from mainstream to underground, old-school to contemporary, and classic to anarchistic. That diversity is a big part of what shapes our unique sound.”
Federation’s website page promoting the Yom Ha’atzmaut celebration highlights some of the songwriters whose music HaOpziot performs, including artists like Mashina, Eifo Hayeled, Berry Sakharof and Monica Sex.
The band’s popularity in the local Israeli community is how they came to Federation’s attention, their sound suiting the vibe that Federation would like the event to have, with the night ending in a dance party.
“This will be the biggest crowd we’ve played for so far,” Cohen told the Independent, “and we’re really excited to have more members of the community come see us in action.”
Unfortunately, Gabay won’t be able to make the Yom Ha’atzmaut concert. But no worries.
“For this show,” said Cohen, “we’ve asked Noga Veiman, our unofficial band manager, to join us on stage and take part as a band member – so, together, we’ll deliver the high-energy show we’ve been planning.”
The night, of course, will begin in a more sombre fashion, with the conclusion of Yom Hazikaron, the day of remembrance for Israel’s fallen soldiers and civilians who lost their lives in war and terror attacks. In Vancouver, the community’s memorial service will take place on April 20, 7:30 p.m., both in person and online. To attend or watch, register at jewishvancouver.com/zikaron.
For tickets ($36/adult, $12/youth, $75/family pack) to the Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrations on April 21, go to jewishvancouver.com/yh2026.
A few days ago, our beloved, big, senior dog had a limp. We went to the vet, on short notice. Our regular vet was away. It was icy and snowy. I got the dog into my 23-year-old car, backed it out of the 123-year-old garage. We made it there on time. The dog got help for what is maybe arthritis or an injury, perhaps from the ice. Driving home, I wondered if I should run an errand but decided, nope, it was windy and raw. The dog should be warm and cozy at home again.
I parked the car in the driveway, got the dog inside and then returned to put my car into our narrow garage. I heaved open the left garage door, planting it into the ice. I hoped the prairie winds wouldn’t slam it shut again. When I got back into the car, it was completely dead. Wouldn’t start.
Then I realized that the heavy garage door had come off its bottom hinge. Huge screws were hanging halfway out. I closed it as best I could and locked it. Inside again, I nearly keeled over because I’d missed eating lunch.
When I warmed up, ate, triaged my work and called the Canadian Automobile Association, I anticipated the worst. The day hadn’t gone as planned.
Yet, CAA help arrived quickly. Miraculously, the fix was simple. A terminal needed to be replaced on my battery. At that moment, the raw day tempered by a cup of hot tea and a moment to think, I was seized with gratitude. What if my car had died on a busy street, with the dog inside? What if we’d been stuck at the vet? What if I’d stopped to run an errand and then been stuck with a car that wouldn’t start and a dog hurting too much to walk home?
Back inside, I looked again at a garage door photo I’d taken. It could have been even worse. What if I hadn’t noticed the screws hanging off the hinge? What if I’d shoved the heavy door and it crushed me underneath it instead? The possibilities were far worse once I’d thought about what happened. This has a happy ending. My husband will repair the hinge when that ice melts. My car now starts. My dog is on medicine and will hopefully be better soon. Gratitude felt like the only answer here.
This was midweek, and we stayed close to home through the weekend. Though we live near downtown Winnipeg, where the national NDP convention took place, we steered clear. At synagogue, one kid played baritone sax for the family service on Shabbat, as little kids danced along in their seats. My other kid greeted families in the lobby as they arrived. Before the wiggly kids got there, we spent a few moments at the main service and did the Birchot Hashachar, the morning blessings, where we thank G-d repeatedly for the good things, the everyday basics, happening in our lives.
On Sunday, our teens spent time on science fair preparation and on helping deliver Passover hampers for those in need, and we adults worked on the household. My husband cleaned steadily but managed to burn something in the microwave, break a pencil sharpener and a cereal bowl. I began to worry again about this weird bad luck, when I thought of the Birchot Hashachar. I remembered what to do. Being resilient meant pausing and finding gratitude instead.
Emergency services had to be called to the high school earlier this week for a student, but, this weekend, my kids are safe, healthy and doing productive things. Though I walked past slogans calling for radical protests at the NDP convention and a woman attendee wearing a keffiyeh at the café right near home, we’re safe, for now.
This year’s celebration of Israel’s birthday feels emotionally like a larger, more difficult version of our small misadventures. War is no joke. Israel is really going through it right now. Via social media, I see these extended family members in my tribe, my community, running for bomb shelters and fighting. Yet, I’m so impressed by the way Israelis strive for beauty and everyday normalcy – trips to the park, surfing and making music – with so much violent disruption. It’s been scary to watch, and I’m not there. That said, maybe the lesson in this birthday is seeing how, after these horrible, life-shattering events, it’s possible to practice that mind shift. The gratitude one, where strangers care for one another in bomb shelters, sharing food, music and space while struggling with what could have happened.
It’s unsettling to be Jewish near a Canadian political convention peddling antisemitic tropes. I’m reeling from seeing a premier who lives near me, who is also a parent I’ve spoken to on the playground, say deeply unsettling words on the NDP stage. Even if Wab Kinew’s “Epstein class” comment wasn’t intended to be antisemitic, his words, about this “dumb war” horrified me.
Jewish tradition teaches that all lives are valuable. Premier Kinew said North American lives shouldn’t be lost – to stop a repressive regime that has already killed thousands of its citizens. Our lives are no more valuable than theirs. Iranians deserve help, as do all the people harmed by the horrible regime and its terror proxies.
In precarious times, it’s helpful to seek the good. To remember that heavy garage door, still dangling off its hinge, the car that died, thankfully, in the driveway and was fixed, and the veterinary help that came when needed. Being grateful and practising joy, even when it’s a strain, is complicated. I want to be happy on Israel’s birthday, but it’s a complicated emotion, too. It requires practising gratitude and celebration even when times are tough, but that’s what we’re “commanded” to do sometimes.
This year, I wish for peace and everything good for everyone in Israel and its neighbours, as well as in other places where conflict reigns. Thank goodness Israel exists, as a place of refuge for all Jews, but it’s OK to wish for safer times at home in the diaspora, too. May the year ahead be an easier one, without war or complication; one in which we can all embrace less fear and more simple joy.
Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.
Kiryat Shmona musician Ben Golan will perform at the Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrations in Vancouver April 21. (photo from Ben Golan)
“Music for me is a way to say: we are still here, still alive, still building a future. It gives people a place to feel, and also the strength to keep going,” said Ben Golan, who will headline our local celebration of Israel’s 78th Independence Day, on April 21.
Golan is a musician and producer from Kiryat Shmona, a city in our community’s partnership region, the Upper Galilee, in Israel. He is the founder of the initiative Patifon.
“For 17 years,” he said, “I’ve been producing music and running a recording studio in the city. Over time, I realized that my work isn’t just about producing songs. It’s about building something that can sustain a real musical community in the north, giving a stage to local creators and creating a movement that feels connected to this place.”
Patifon, which means record player or turntable in Hebrew, serves as a hub for local artists.
“It all started simply, with jam sessions in the studio,” explained Golan. “People began coming to play, sing, meet and connect. Slowly, it grew, until the gatherings were too big for the studio to handle. There wasn’t enough space, but there was a hunger for music. Then, thanks to the youth centre and the amazing Elad Kozikaro, who gave us a budget and the perfect space, we got a shelter, which, in times like these, is a valuable commodity in the north. We moved in, completely renovated it and turned it into the most beautiful music lounge; a place where you can come and feel at home, even if it’s your first time there.”
The lounge morphed into Patifon.
“We started filming live sessions of artists and bands there, with proper sound and respect for the music,” Golan said. “All the sessions were uploaded to YouTube under Patifon and, over time, it started to catch on and reach more and more people. Suddenly, what began as a small local gathering became a stage watched by people outside the north.
“As the audience grew and we realized this needed more breathing room, we opened a community pub. Students from Tel-Hai College volunteer there as part of a scholarship program and help keep the place alive and running.”
For Golan, Kiryat Shmona is not just where he was born and grew up. He calls the city and the Upper Galilee his “inner language.”
“In this city, I learned what the rhythm of a community really is: people who know each other, who will always help you when you need something. There’s a different kind of air here,” he said.
“I have a stream right by my house. It seeped into my music without me even intending it to – a mix of rough and tender, of truth and esthetics, of wanting to shout and needing a moment of quiet to breathe,” he explained. “The nature here, the open space and the distance from the centre taught me how to really listen – not to the noise, but to what lies underneath it.
“Continuing to create in the north, especially after Oct. 7, is not a romantic choice for me – it’s a stance,” he said. “The region went through a real upheaval: fear, evacuation, uncertainty and, also, a kind of pain that people who don’t live here sometimes don’t fully understand. Out of all of that, creativity becomes a tool for connection and healing.”
Golan chose to stay in Kiryat Shmona out of a sense of mission.
“I believe the periphery holds immense talent, real hunger and stories you can’t fake – it just needs infrastructure, a home and support,” he said. “I want the young people and artists here to feel that they don’t have to leave in order to become something. On the contrary – that this place itself can become a source of inspiration, an opportunity and a creative centre that generates culture rather than just consumes it.”
Coming to Vancouver for Yom Ha’atzmaut, Golan said he brings messages of resilience and hope – and he takes those words seriously.
“Independence, for me, is also the ability to choose to create despite the difficulty, to choose community, to choose light,” he said. “I want to bring the story of the north: people who continue to build, to organize events, to create music and to hold each other up even when reality is complicated. In my music, there is room for both joy and pain, because both are part of our lives – especially in this time.”
On April 21, Vancouver band HaOptziot will also take the stage at the community celebrations, playing covers of various Israeli hits.
For tickets ($36/adult, $12/youth, $75/family pack) to the Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrations, go to jewishvancouver.com/yh2026.
Healing Space has treated more than 20,000 people since it began in response to the trauma caused by the Oct. 7 terror attacks and the ensuing war. (photo from Healing Space)
“It’s important to talk about it because there are still hostages who have been living Oct. 7 every day for over a year-and-a-half. It’s important to talk about it because antisemitism around the world is growing stronger, and there are people who deny or justify the horrors we went through that day. This is not a political matter – it’s a matter of humanity. It’s about human lives,” Raz Shifer, a survivor of Hamas’s horrific terror attack on the Nova music festival, told the Independent.
Shifer, who lives in Giv’atayim, Israel, will be joining Vancouver’s community Yom Hazikaron ceremony on April 29 and Yom Ha’atzmaut celebration on April 30. Another Nova survivor, Inbal Binder, from Petah Tikva, will be coming here as well, and she and Shifer will, among other activities, participate in the events, visit several local Jewish schools and address Federation’s Regional Communities Conference.
Also coming to Vancouver is Dr. Ilana Kwartin, chief executive officer of Healing Space Rishpon, where both Shifer and Binder have participated in workshops and treatments. She has some meetings lined up, but the Israel-related events are the main purpose of the visit.
“In addition, I’m happy to meet people one-on-one or book speaking engagements for groups, communities and teams, where we can share the story of our work and, through that, the story of Israel at this time,” she said.
Healing Space Rishpon was created by Dr. Lia Naor in response to the trauma caused by the Oct. 7 attacks and the ensuing war. With Ra’anan Shaked, therapists and volunteers, Naor set up a centre at Ronit Farm in Sharon that operated for just over a month. With Patrizio Paoletti and Rani Oren, a permanent base was then established in Rishpon. Since Healing Space began, more than 140 therapists have given almost 60,000 hours to treating more than 20,000 people in 16 trauma-healing modalities.
Kwartin became CEO right after Oct. 7. She and her family live in Eliav, a yishuv she helped found, which is in the northern Negev, abutting the separation barrier.
“The Black Shabbat of Oct. 7 upended my life, like it did for so many others, and as we – individuals, families, communities and a nation – mourn, work to pick up the pieces, mend what can be repaired and rebuild where it cannot, I put my personal and professional background to use as the CEO of this one-of-a-kind haven,” she told the Independent.
Dr. Ilana Kwartin, chief executive officer of Healing Space Rishpon, is coming to Vancouver with Nova music festival survivors Raz Shifer and Inbal Binder for Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut. (photo from Healing Space Rishpon)
Kwartin was born in the former Soviet Union and made aliyah in 1987, growing up in Jerusalem. “As an officer in the IDF, I served as a tatzpitanit [spotter] in Nachal Oz and later as a founding commander of the Netzarim observation post, and the tragedy of the tatzpitaniyot struck me deeply,” she said, referring to the female military unit that warned of a potential terrorist attack and whose soldiers were among the first killed and kidnapped on Oct. 7.
With BAs in law and psychology from Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Kwartin earned an MA in conflict resolution from Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. Her book, Imprisoned, came from her PhD dissertation on honour-based confinement, which she did at Bar-Ilan University. The stories have inspired activist initiatives across Israel and informed legislation, she said.
Kwartin lectured in law at Sapir College, where she built their legal internship placement program and founded a centre of legal activism, A House of their Own. “More recently,” she said, “I spent three years on shlichut in Los Angeles as the director of Jewish Agency operations on the West Coast. With the outbreak of war in Ukraine, I traveled to the Ukrainian border to help rescue Jewish refugees and bring them to Israel.”
Kwartin’s work at Healing Space Rishpon changes every day. “The programs are so varied and cover many groups of the Israeli population,” she said. “But the most meaningful part is the people who work here – very similar to me, they left everything they were doing and started working at Healing Space to repair the emotional damage we all see around us. They work tirelessly, in uncertain conditions, long hours, doing the hardest work imaginable. It is thanks to the team that Healing Space makes such a big difference in people’s lives.”
Binder found out about Healing Space inadvertently.
“I had heard there was a treatment centre you could go to, but I wasn’t in a mental state that allowed me to reach out for it,” she explained.
“Later on, I was looking for something that could get me out of the house in the mornings and help create a daily routine. By chance, I came across an ad for a new rehabilitative employment program at Healing Space and it sounded amazing – working with my hands, being in a warm and supportive environment, where I could focus on myself and begin a new movement in my life.”
Binder worked as a beautician before Oct. 7 and, while not currently working, she is taking courses, most recently completing one in conscious psychotherapy. She started going to Healing Space early in the war. It “was the first time I realized that another way was possible – that someone was truly listening to me,” she said.
“More than that, I got to experience treatments I never imagined I’d try, like sound healing and yoga therapy. These are treatments I still do to this day, to help maintain my emotional balance and regulate my body.”
At Healing Space, she added, “Even my mom, who was never really drawn to holistic healing, found a deep connection with one of the therapists and opened her heart to her – that really moved me.”
A group gathered outside at Healing Space Rishpon. (photo from Healing Space)
From a place of not wanting to do anything or face anything, Binder said, “I now want to grow. I want to move forward and live a good life. And none of this would have happened without the process I went through over the past six months.”
Binder’s Vancouver visit will be the first time she is telling her story publicly.
“Honestly,” she said, “it’s a little overwhelming to come and talk about my healing journey. It also means recognizing my story – and that alone is a challenge for me. I feel both excited and nervous – telling my story for the first time and receiving acknowledgment for it.
“It’s important for people to hear about the massacre because it was a Holocaust repeating itself,” she said. “The Jewish people are once again in danger, and it’s crucial to echo these stories, to make sure people know and remember.
“Beyond that, the connection between Jews in Vancouver and Jews in Israel – to build strong, deep connections across Jewish communities around the world – that connection is what has always kept us strong as a people.”
Binder attended the Nova festival with her sisters.
“It was actually the first evening that my sister’s boyfriend was introduced to our parents,” she said. “From there, the four of us drove to the party in the south.
“In the morning, when the rockets started, I called my mom to let her know and said we were heading home. We got delayed near the party because one of our friends had a panic attack, and we waited with her.
“We made it to the car, but it took time to decide what to do. At 8:30 a.m., the boyfriend took the lead, called his father, picked us up in the car, and we escaped through the fields. His father navigated him over the phone throughout the whole drive, and that’s how we managed to get out safely. Which is crazy in itself – the reality was so different for so many others. It felt like we were in a divine bubble that protected us.”
“It was the scariest day of my life,” said Shifer of Oct. 7. “I didn’t know if I would make it back home or not, and I didn’t know which of my friends would survive. It was a feeling of helplessness, complete loss of control and sheer terror.”
Unlike Binder, who is only now beginning to share her story, Shifer – who is an actor, singer and artist – has been interviewed by media around the world and has spoken at schools, universities and synagogues.
“I also found myself advocating and telling our story through music during performances,” she said. “In addition, I led tours for people who came to the Nova site and shared my personal story with them.”
Initially, Shifer refused to leave her house after Oct. 7.
“Friends told me there was a place where survivors go to heal, but I was too afraid to go outside and couldn’t bring myself to get there,” she said. “Then, one day, a volunteer came to my home and helped me take that first step – to leave the house and arrive at Healing Space. From that day on, something opened up in me, and I began coming every week.”
Healing Space has helped Shifer cope with her trauma in many ways.
“First of all, the location,” she said. “You arrive at a place full of trees and greenery – everything is peaceful and calming.
“There’s something comforting about sitting among people who have been through something similar to me,” she continued. “The therapists at the centre are kind and embracing. The shared music circles helped me find my way back to music. But, more than anything, it’s the feeling that I’m not alone. That I am seen. That there’s a place that can hold me.”
People at Healing Space Rishpon have had similar experiences. (photo from Healing Space)
The body treatments have allowed Shifer to release some stress and start letting down her defences.
“The long-term project I joined under Healing Space gave me the tools to return to a routine and become an active human being again,” she said. “Healing Space is a deeply meaningful part of my recovery process – and I honestly don’t know what I would have done without them.”
To register to attend Yom Hazikaron or buy tickets ($18) for Yom Ha’atzmaut, visit jewishvancouver.com.
It’s almost Israel’s 77th birthday! And a birthday is a good opportunity to reflect on things.
When my kids attended Chabad preschool, they celebrated their birthdays at school. The teachers encouraged them to think about a mitzvah (commandment) to take on to mark the occasion. Listening to preschoolers discuss what they’ve chosen and why is such a celebration of Jewish life! I’d invite you to try this out at the next available opportunity. You can ask any Jewish person what mitzvah they’d take on, it’s amazing to hear. Israel isn’t a person and can’t take on a mitzvah, but maybe we can help with that to celebrate its birthday.
One thread in our tradition follows certain steps: we improve the world and our behaviour, and that brings about the Messiah, or the Messianic Age, the next world and a better place. Ideas differ on how we do that and why, and even on what the Messianic Age will be like. We don’t agree on the specifics – and that’s fine. However, a recent page of Talmud that I studied in the tractate Sanhedrin, on page 98, really highlighted this concept. It’s a story, of course.
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi asks Elijah the Prophet when the Messiah will come. Elijah says, “Go and ask him.” Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi says, “Well, where is he?”
Elijah describes him as sitting at the entrance of Rome, far away from where they are in the Galilee, at Mount Meron. The rabbi asks how he’ll recognize the Messiah. Elijah explains that the Messiah is sitting with all the other poor, sick people, but that the Messiah doesn’t untie all his bandages at once to replace them. Instead, he unties and reties them one at a time, so he’ll always be ready to bring about the redemption.
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi goes all the way to Rome, identifies the Messiah, and asks him “When will the Master come?”The Messiah says, “Today.”
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi travels all the way back to the Galilee to see Elijah. Elijah asks him what the Messiah said and the rabbi tells him, “Well, he lied. He said the Messiah was coming today, and it didn’t happen.” Elijah says no, this is what he really said: he said he will come “today, if you listen to his voice.” (Psalms 95:7)
Sue Parker Gerson, who wrote the introductory essay for this page of Talmud on My Jewish Learning, points out several things. First, that the traditional commentators inferred that we must do more mitzvot to bring about the Messiah. Additionally, she steps in with something that is a bit deeper: Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi visits all these sick people with bandages, talks to one person, and then leaves. He didn’t stay to help any of the people. Perhaps, Gerson suggests, we need to put the “do the mitzvah” message into practice, to help people in need and fix wrongs we see in the world. Elijah saw that Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi failed the test, so to speak, not helping when he should have.
Then, I read a Jewish advice column online. A parent is organizing a bat mitzvah and asks, “Should I invite relatives with whom I disagree politically? They also won’t like the liberal way we practise Judaism, but, if I invite them, they’ll likely come.”
The columnist suggests that, since COVID, it has been OK to make smaller guest lists and exclude people. Also, if the kid doesn’t want to invite these relatives, you don’t have to invite them. The columnist says briefly at the end, well, families usually invite everyone, and that’s what families do, but if you don’t want your happy occasion to include these people, that’s OK, too.
My gut reaction was that this answer failed the test. The columnist fails to behave Jewishly and recommend including everyone in a lifecycle celebration. The choice to exclude could cause bad feelings for years.
But, instead of a “failure” lesson, I have been considering what I might embrace about taking on mitzvot instead. I think a lot about turning negatives into positives lately. I’m the mom-chauffeur of junior high-age twins. I hear lots of negativity from the backseat!
To begin: be the energy you want to see. If Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi wanted the Messiah to come today, he had to do more to fix the world, including caring for the sick. Visiting the sick is a positive commandment. We should take care of one another, and it’s often not enough to just visit.
Also, don’t leave people out. If we want our lives, including our Jewish lives, to be inclusive, we can’t just ditch people. Even if a Jewish person, aka a family member, has different viewpoints, votes or behaves differently, within reason, we should invite them in, rather than leave them out. Offering unity and a “big tent” approach is the kind thing to do.
I just read Amir Tibon’s The Gates of Gaza, and its anecdotes echoed this. When Tibon’s family was trapped in their safe room in Kibbutz Nahal Oz on Oct. 7, 2023, his parents raced south with only a pistol to save them. His father, a retired, secular Israeli general, spent a harrowing day attempting to save Israelis, both soldiers and civilians, on the way to Nahal Oz. After exchanging deadly fire with the enemy, he ends up with a soldier’s weapon and his helmet, but he still wore civilian clothing, which confused soldiers under pressure. A religious soldier nearby helped. The soldier took off his army issue tallit katan (an undershirt with tzitzit, ritual fringes, on it) and handed it to him. Tibon, clothed in borrowed tzitzit and a helmet, weapon in hand, was ready for battle. The soldier’s inclusivity and flexibility saved lives. Saving a life, a huge mitzvah in Jewish tradition, outweighs everything else.
Helping each other and skipping negativity contribute to our people’s unity. We may disagree with one another and vote differently. Just this week, I’ve signed two petitions and written several letters to voice disagreement; in Israel, protests are part of life. Also, this week, a cousin of ours was inducted into the Israel Defence Forces. When it counts, we’re there for one another. Regarding issues of life and death, we protect one another.
Finally, sometimes restraint is the better part of valour. Occasionally, the first word out of our mouths is no, or a defensive or harsh response. Holding back, listening and considering the situation may help us make thoughtful choices that better reflect the people we wish to be. Israel’s birthday is a chance for all of us to celebrate, listen and include. Like everyone and every nation, Israel has flaws, but embracing positive steps may change lives, or even save them, in the years to come.
Joanne Seiffhas written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.
Ruchot Hatzafon members, left to right: Gil Melamood (bass guitar), Adam Halfi (keyboards), Ofir Baz (drums), Liraz Moalem (stage manager) and Eyal Shavit (vocals and electric guitar). (photo by Yannay Shifron)
“We will dance again” is the theme of this year’s Yom Ha’atzmaut community gathering on April 30 to celebrate Israel’s 77th anniversary amid the heartache that continues since Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, terror attacks. In addition to Nova Festival survivors, other special guests will be the band Ruchot Hatzafon, some of whose members still have not returned to their homes in Israel’s northern region because of the continued threat from Hezbollah in Lebanon.
“Better now, but it was very traumatic for everyone,” Eyal Shavit told the Independent about how he and his fellow musicians were doing since Oct. 7. “It’s difficult to put to words. We all live very close to the Lebanese border. A couple of us, Liraz [Moalem] and Gil [Melamood], live right on that border, in Kibbutz Malkiya and in Kibbutz Kfar Giladi, so they had to move to more central places in Israel and to this day they still haven’t come back to their homes.
“For the rest of us, it wasn’t as bad, but it still affected our lives in so many ways. Not to mention financially, as well as the mental trauma, the fear and the grief. However, we are among the luckiest ones in the grander scheme of things and we do what we have to do, both as individuals and as a people. We keep living, we keep moving forward and we keep celebrating our lives, all the while remembering [those] who are still held in Gaza by Hamas and grieving with anyone and everyone who has suffered the most terrible losses on that day.”
Shavit said he left his kibbutz, Kfar Szold, a couple of days after Oct. 7, “because the feeling at the time was that it can happen again at any given moment by Hezbollah in Lebanon, but, within a couple of weeks, I realized that it would be safe enough to go back … so I’ve stayed there since.”
Shavit is Ruchot Hatzafon’s lead vocalist and he plays the electric guitar. (He is also, as it happens, co-author of the book Hilarious Hebrew with Hebrew teacher Yael Breuer, which the Independent reviewed in 2016: jewishindependent.ca/from-nonsense-knowledge.) In Vancouver, Shavit will be joined by Melamood (bass guitar), Adam Halfi (keyboards), Ofir Baz (drums) and Sapir Breier (vocals).
“In this instance, Sapir will be with us in Vancouver, as Vered [Sasportas] couldn’t join us this time,” said Shavit of the band’s other primary vocalist.
Moalem is the band’s stage manager.
The group has been together about six years, and Shavit explained its evolution.
“It was a bit of luck really,” he said about his joining. “I’d just returned from the UK to Israel, having lived in Brighton, England, for 13 years, where I studied music and made my living playing gigs in pubs and events.”
Friends from high school – Melamood (who also was in a military band with Shavit during their army service) and Baz – contacted Shavit and asked him to be a part of the band, along with another high school friend, Halfi, so that they could play at an event.
“We then immediately got booked for a second event by Liraz Moalem, who then became our band manager,” said Shavit. “It was a lot of fun and a nice opportunity. We all aspired to do this for a living.”
A couple of years after that, he said, Sasportas, who they met through a mutual friend and colleague, became part of the group and, said Shavit, “she fit right in, as well as being a brilliant singer and performer.”
Ruchot Hatzafon – which translates as the Northern Winds – has two types of shows.
“One is an energetic set of very popular songs both in Hebrew and in English that everyone likes to dance to, and the other show is a tribute to Israel’s army bands, who have a huge legacy in Israeli culture and used to dominate the charts back in the ’60s up until the mid-’70s,”explained Shavit. “That show includes a bit of storytelling and mostly wonderful and famous songs by the old army bands.
“In Vancouver, we will play our party music set, along with some special requests, like ‘Yerushalayim Shel Zahav’ by Naomi Shemer, for example.”
Other songs that Vancouverites will hear on April 30 include “Ahava Besof Ha’Kayitz” (“Love at the End of Summer”) by Tsvika Pik; “Ein Makom Acher” (“No Other Place”) by Mashina; “Naarin Shuva Elay” (“My Boy, Come Back to Me”) by Margalit Tsan’ani; “Natati La Chayai” (“I Gave Her My Life”) by Kaveret; and some Israeli Eurovision songs.
“And, in English, probably ‘Think’ by Aretha Franklin, ‘I Will Survive’ by Gloria Gaynor, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ by Queen and more,” said Shavit.
The band members have similar musical tastes, he said, perhaps because they all grew up on a kibbutz. “We’re generally more drawn to Western-influenced rock and pop music and songs in English, rather than Mediterranean-influenced songs, which are another genre of cover bands in Israel,” he said. “We play only a few of those.”
This will be Ruchot Hatzafon’s first time performing outside of Israel. They’ll arrive April 28 and return home on May 2, but Shavit said they’re thinking about extending their stay a couple of days.
“I can say for all of us that we feel this is an honour and a privilege to be invited to play for the Jewish communities in Vancouver – especially after what we’ve all been through as a people,” Shavit said. “We are thrilled to come and celebrate with everyone there.
“In addition, we get to visit a little bit of Canada, which, personally, I’ve always wanted to visit.”
Every year, the sun goes down on Yom Hazikaron, Israel’s national day of remembrance for victims of war and terrorism, and the celebratory day of independence, Yom Ha’atzmaut, begins.
It’s a stark juxtaposition. The parallel of the two national days, of course, make perfect sense historically. The country was born in war. At the moment Israel became independent, it was attacked, with the intent of annihilation, by the military forces of all neighbouring countries. As a result, it is impossible to consider or celebrate the joy of that moment – the rebirth of Jewish national self-determination after nearly 2,000 years – without considering the human costs associated with that achievement, and not only Jewish or Israeli lives, but those of peoples whose leaders have refused to accept the existence of Israel since that rebirth. While reestablishing the Jewish homeland displaced Arabs living there, whether by being forced out or told to leave by their leaders, Israel has been a home for Jews displaced from surrounding Arab countries, Russia and elsewhere.
For the average attendee arriving at Vancouver’s celebration of Yom Ha’atzmaut, it was hard to know what to expect. Given the Oct. 7 Hamas terror attacks and the ensuing war, the remembrance commemoration, 24 hours earlier, was perhaps one of the most emotional, intense and moving this community has experienced. Could the next night’s audience, many of them the same people, make the emotional transition?
Under the circumstances, the event’s planners struck an appropriate balance in what must have been among the most difficult challenges organizers of this annual event have faced.
When Israel’s early leaders set these dates consecutively, they knew the nature of their neighbourhood. They would likely have foreseen the possibility of further wars, and yet they made the decision to mark the joy of independence immediately following the somber acknowledgement of the high cost of freedom. This was not a coincidence. Nor, presumably, was it a contrast they thought appropriate only in years that are relatively calm and peaceful. They recognized that, come what may, independence and freedom would come with a cost – and the deeply conflicting emotions these realities evoke will inexorably exist together.
Like the smashing of the wine glass at a Jewish wedding, joy is never absent of grief – and grief cannot eclipse the joy brought into the world by those we lost on Oct. 7, and since. Those murdered and kidnapped that day, the soldiers who have been killed in the war and the Palestinians who have been killed in the conflict as Hamas continues to hold them and Israel hostage.
In Jewish tradition, the various markings of time after the passing of a loved one – shiva, shloshim, yahrzeit, for example – each come with their specific obligations and expectations. These periods formally guide us through process of grieving.
Unlike that relatively slow process of mourning, the closing of Yom Hazikaron and the opening of Yom Ha’atzmaut is abrupt and immediate. Life in Israel has, in some sense, condensed time, requiring a speedier processing of even life’s most challenging realities, including loss and grief.
It is often said that Israelis have been in too much of a hurry to be polite about things. Stereotypes, often accurate and amusing, portray Israelis as sharp-elbowed, impatient and determined. If there was not some truth to this, they would not have built, in a mere three-quarters of a century, one of the most extraordinary nation-states on earth – all while confronted by existential threats.
The Israelis who chose to set the remembrance day immediately before the celebration of independence must have understood that, in some years more than others, the transition from one emotion to the other would be especially difficult. Perhaps we should trust their judgment that, even in the most difficult years,the juxtaposition is both manageable and appropriate.
Noam Caplan, who lit a candle at the Yom Hazikaron commemoration and spoke about his cousin, Maya Puder, who was murdered at age 25 at the Nova music festival, remembered his cousin’s love of dancing and looked ahead to happier times.
As I stepped out my front door for an afternoon walk, I met an older dad taking a walk with a 15-month-old baby girl in a carrier on his chest. She was wiggly. The dad leaned over so the baby could pet my (sizeable) Gordon Setter mix dog. She babbled and waved and touched. She was in on all the action.
While my kids are now 12, I was transported immediately back to the days of naps and screaming tantrum wake-ups. I remembered the power of nature walks and time in a baby wrap, which often calmed both. To this dad, I just looked like an older woman with a big dog, but, by the end of the walk, he had the picture and we’d even figured out that our spouses worked at the same university.
Before this, I’d been concentrating on work, writing an opinion piece about a Winnipeg swimming pool that faces closure and potential demolition. Its name, Happyland, felt poignant and sad. To some, demolishing an aging outdoor facility that serves our winter city for only a couple months a year seems obvious, in terms of its financial worth. Yet, for us, or anyone who has had a chance to play in the shallow end with splashing kids, eager to try out their swimming skills on a sunny day, it’s a hard loss.
These random moments make up the stories of our families, our daily lives, and maybe our bigger communities. They are small and insignificant as they happen, but, at the same time, contain so much. As the dad in his 40s talked to me about being with his partner for 21 years before having a kid, and about “this magnificently overwhelming” experience, I imagined how spectacularly their lives had changed with the birth of this child.
My daily Jewish text study is not always something relatable, but things will pop back into mind at later times. Sometimes, I study my Daf Yomi, my page of Babylonian Talmud a day, and I struggle. Each day, I get an email, an essay, from My Jewish Learning that helps me stay on track and focused on one issue on a page. For Bava Metzia 46, there’s a discussion around how we defineacquiring something. Does it happen when we exchange money for the physical object? Does it happen when we “pull,” or physically take, the object? The text goes further into what amounts to an ancient currency exchange counter.
Imagine traveling from Country A to another country, Country B, and you needed some cash. Your money from Country A is no longer good in B. Does it have value? If you exchange it, are you technically buying B’s currency with invalid currency from A? Is the money invalid because it’s no longer in use as your empire disintegrates, or because Country B doesn’t recognize it? Can these currencies, if invalid, still be used privately? (Like cryptocurrency, perhaps?) These are complicated ideas, but the rabbis saw that governments – kingdoms, provinces, countries, etc. – come and go. What is meaningful in one place might be worthless in another.
I layered this on top of Bava Metzia 39, a page that just ripped me up as I studied it. It was about who can be in charge and how to manage the assets and property of a captive when they might still be alive, and how to reassess these practical matters if word arrives that the captives have died. The page explored the details: if minor children were involved, and how to supervise a woman’s property when her mother or sister died in captivity. It was heartbreaking to read this text, codified more than 1,500 years ago, with hostages still in Gaza.
As the date of Israel’s 76th Independence Day approaches, I’m left juggling two concepts. There’s the physical reality of the state – its currency, its government and its infrastructure. Then there’s the enormous emotional, up-and-down response many Jews around the world are experiencing as we struggle as a big extended family through the current war and the antisemitism worldwide. The only thing I can liken the emotions to is that of parenthood. That gut-wrenching, desperate crying from your baby, or the shrieks of joy from your tween as he splashes towards you in a pool. The emotion is overpowering, even while you juggle the practical notions of how governments behave. My parallel universe in Winnipeg: how much municipal money it costs to repair city infrastructure and whether your money (in whatever currency) is enough to pay for ice cream after the swim. The emotional joy of an ice cream after a good splash … that’s something to dream of doing again.
About 35 years ago, I was a teenager living on a kibbutz, splashing in an outdoor swimming pool on a sunny day. When I got out, I might share a slightly melted chocolate bar with my roommate as we changed for dinner. The truth is I have no idea if that kibbutz pool still exists. I haven’t been there since I was 17, but just like Happyland in Winnipeg, it isn’t the concrete that matters, it is those powerful memories of play with my friends.
I’m not sure if it’s possible to sort out all the actual infrastructure costs and damage that Israel, Gaza, the West Bank and Southern Lebanon face. The regional rebuild after this catastrophe will be enormous. The lives of people in the region are irrevocably changed. Meanwhile, if we can avoid numbness and hold onto powerful emotions like the clasping finger of a baby, and the laughter and that cool pool water on a hot day, maybe there’s the potential to regain our equilibrium.
I wish Israel good health on this birthday … good emotional and mental health even if, physically, things are still a hot mess. If Israel were a person? I’d be leaning in for a tearful hug over the cake, saying “You know I love you, right?”
Joanne Seiffhas written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.
Members of the Clore & Roll Ensemble will perform in Vancouver on May 13. (photo from Clore Centre)
Every year, it is sobering to experience the transition from Yom Hazikaron, the day of remembrance for Israel’s fallen soldiers and victims of terrorism, into Yom Ha’atzmaut, the celebration of Israel’s Independence Day. This year, it will be even more so. And it will be especially poignant, given that the musical group headlining the local community gathering on May 13 is an ensemble from Kfar Blum, a kibbutz in the Galilee Panhandle, in northern Israel, where some 60,000 people have been evacuated because of the threats posed by Hezbollah in Lebanon.
The Clore & Roll Ensemble is an initiative of the music school of the Clore Centre for the Performing Arts, which also has a dance and theatre school. The centre was established in 1996 and approximately 1,000 students (which include adults) study there. They come from kibbutzim and moshavim in the area, as well as Druze and Arab towns.
“I’m glad to say that the conflict doesn’t get inside the centre,” Telem Chorin, chief executive officer of the Clore Centre and director of the ensemble, told the Independent. “Music is an international language and also an emotional language that connects people,” he said.
While the Clore Centre’s offerings remain afterschool programs, the centre has played a more important role in students’ lives since the Oct. 7 terror attacks that led to the current war.
“For some kids, the Clore is like a second home,” said Chorin. “Because, for some students, it is a more stable place than the hotel they were evacuated to, or the school that is currently closed or working partially.”
Despite being displaced, ensemble members have been coming together weekly to practise for the show in Vancouver. Rehearsals are at the centre.
“Last week, we had matriculation exams in dance and, during April and May, we will have matriculation exams in music playing,” said Chorin. “It is interesting to see how committed the students are to performing arts subjects even in such a period, and how much effort they have to invest – time, long journeys, sometimes even risking [their safety] and coming to Kfar Blum, even though it is relatively more dangerous here than in their homes or the hotels they have moved to. This shows how important it is to them and how much they don’t give up on it despite everything, and maybe even this is what keeps them ‘sane’ amidst all the chaos currently prevailing in the north.”
Some members of the ensemble have been playing together for more than five years in different capacities, but the group that is coming to Vancouver has only been playing together for the past three months, said Chorin. Due to the war and the evacuations, the group had to rebuild. “We’ve added additional musicians to the band so that you will have an amazing show!” he said.
Coming to Vancouver are Menachem Ofri (17, singer), Yaron Shir (18, singer), Kachtan Aviv (17, flute), Maman Moria (17, alto saxophone), Moyal Ido (17, tenor saxophone), Shem Tov Ido (19, trombone), Kovesh Gil (24, drums), Primor Adi (17, electric guitar), Fitzer Tal (16, piano) and Deutscher Goni (16, bass guitar). Also coming are Ziv Greenberg (music director), Ferry Stefan (dance teacher and dancer), Malki Smadar (administrative manager) and Kashri Noam (technical manager).
“Ofri, Ido Shem-Tov, Aviv and Noam were evacuated from their homes, and they are coming from all over the country to the rehearsals at the centre – sometimes, under rocket attacks!” said Chorin, who will join the band in the performance, on clarinet.
“Some of the students have already appeared in Edmonton and Calgary,” he said. “I have performed in Edmonton, Calgary, Windsor and Hamilton, but this is my first time in Vancouver and I am very excited! Some of the students were in Vancouver on student exchanges with their schools in Israel.”
Of what it means for the Clore & Roll ensemble to play a Yom Ha’atzmaut concert in the diaspora, Chorin said, “It is a great pride and honour to represent the state of Israel in general, and the Upper Galilee in particular, in such a show, on the eve of Independence Day, in a challenging time like now.”
The ensemble will present a wide-ranging repertoire.
“We are going to play modern Israeli songs (Idan Raichel, Mizrachit [Israeli pop]), classic Israeli songs and also some songs in English,” said Chorin. “A very diverse and happy program.”
“Bringing the Clore ensemble serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond we share across borders,” said Dafna Silberstein, associate director of Israel connections and partnerships at the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver. “It is also an amazing opportunity for the ensemble of teens and young adults to take a break from what they have been through for the past six months. And, for us, it feels like it is exactly what we need this year: coming together as a community united for and with our brothers and sisters in Israel.”
Jewish Federation has supported the Clore Centre as part of the Coast-to-Coast Federations’ Collective and independently, “as the centre is in our partnership region of Kiryat Shmona and the Galilee Panhandle,” explained Silberstein.
“We have wanted to bring the Clore ensemble for awhile now, to showcase the impact our support has had on its students and have been waiting for the right opportunity,” she said, noting that it is “with mixed emotions” that Oct. 7 created that opportunity.
“This year, the commemoration of Israel’s 76th Independence Day holds an even deeper meaning and significance,” said Silberstein. “It is an opportunity to stand together in solidarity and celebrate our shared values. Considering the spike in antisemitism, the need for community unity has become more important than ever.”
For tickets ($18) to the May 13, 7:30 p.m., concert at Congregation Beth Israel, as well as information about other Israel@76 activities, visit jewishvancouver.com/israelhere.
Israeli music pioneers Teapacks perform at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre May 14 (photo from Teapacks)
“We will bring a lot of Mediterranean happiness, with a lot of Jewish chutzpah,” Israeli singer-songwriter Kobi Oz told the Independent about Teapacks’ upcoming concert here on May 14. The event at Queen Elizabeth Theatre is the culmination of the community’s many Israel @ 75 celebrations.
Teapacks will sing about 30 of their hits, spanning their more than 30 years of composing and performing. Plus, said Oz, there will be many “duets with our fabulous female lead vocalist Shani Yizhari, one Arik Einstein cover, one Moroccan song and our version of Hatikvah.”
Teapacks was established some 35 years ago. Named after the correction fluid Tipp-Ex, Oz has explained the choice to be related to the band’s aim to “erase boundaries between people,” but the English transliteration of the name was changed relatively early on to Teapacks to avoid infringing on the trademark. (The Hebrew remains the same.)
Oz and Gal Peremen (bass) are founding members, and Rami Yosifov (guitar) is basically one, too. The rest of the band is Yizhari (vocals), Motty Joseph (drums), Shahar Yampolsky (accordion and synthesizer) and Adam Mader (violin, mandolin, flute and trumpet).
“We are good friends,” Oz told the Independent. “Playing in a band like ours is like riding a bike – you cannot unlearn it. We are like a mobile circus, very different from each other but something funny and worth dancing is always happening when we start making music together.”
Teapacks members are good friends. (photo from Teapacks)
Teapacks is credited by many as having led the way in making Middle Eastern music popular in Israel.
“Teapacks is basically a get-together of three kibbutz members from the northern Negev, with me from Sderot, a small town populated with Israelis who made aliyah from Morocco,” Oz explained. “From the start, we tried to make music that would go with each other’s taste – I brought the rai [Algerian folk] music influence and they came with rock and Israeli folk. Mizrahi Oriental music was ‘underground music’ and wasn’t played on the radio as often as it should be. Teapacks offered a sound that was suited to ’90s playlists, with refreshing ethnic lines and sound – Teapacks opened the door to [Israeli singer] Sarit Hadad with two smash hit duets.”
Oz said the band “started as a funny electronic pop band. With time, we became more acoustic, with social awareness messages, incorporating an elegance – accordions with oud and rock beats.
“We were pioneers in Israeli hip-hop from 1992, but our 1999 Disco Menayak album was filled with sampled tracks from old Israeli vinyl [recordings],” he said. “Our last three albums are all about blending these styles and creating the right balance between electronic and acoustic instruments, hip-hop and Israeli and North African folklore.”
About performing in the Diaspora for Yom Ha’atzmaut, Oz said, “I believe the Jewish people is one big cultural fabric, in Israel and all over the world. We know that music is a great way to celebrate this deep connection. For us, it’s like singing for our families. A lot of politicians are trying to tear us apart, inside and outside Israel. We believe that our music is the right dance floor for a lot of people longing to be together.”
The concert event at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre on May 14 starts at 6:30 p.m. The program will include the national anthems of Canada and Israel and a prayer for Israel by the Jewish day schools (Vancouver Hebrew Academy, Vancouver Talmud Torah and Richmond Jewish Day School). Local Israeli dance groups will perform, there will be a few speeches, a surprise video and Teapacks. The night’s emcees are honorary co-chairs Jonathan and Heather Berkowitz.
