Tuesday, 28 April 2020

In Memory of Esther, Margalit and Tzafuna


Today, April 28, 2020 is Yom HaZikaron (lit. 'Memorial Day'), or Yom HaZikaron LeHalalei Ma'arakhot Yisrael ul'Nifge'ei Pe'ulot HaEivah, (lit. 'Memorial Day for the Fallen Soldiers of Israel and Victims of Terrorism').

Each year, Memorial Day is marked each year on the 4th of the Hebrew month of Iyar, always one day before Independence Day, emphasizing and symbolizing the connection between the fallen and their devotion, and with the establishment of the State of Israel. On this day, deceased fallen soldiers, members of the Israeli Police, the General Security Service, the Mossad and victims of terror are honored. Since 1860 (when Jews first began to live outside the walls of Jerusalem’s Old City) until today, 23,786 civilians and soldiers have perished.


When I came across the website: https://honorisraelsfallen.com I searched for someone who had fallen in 1948. Coming across the name of a young woman who had been massacred during the Hadassah Mt. Scopus convoy, I remembered a chapter in the book, Broken Silence, which I had published for two sisters: Betty Bausch and Liesje Auerbach.
Liesje was born in Amsterdam, Netherlands. From the Nazi Westerbork camp she was deported to Bergen-Belsen. In July 1944 she was part of the Bergen-Belsen transport that came to British Mandate Palestine in exchange for German Templar women. In September 1944, even though she hardly spoke Hebrew, Liesje continued her nurses training in Jerusalem’s Mount Scopus hospital. This is what she wrote to her sister in the Netherlands, who survived the war in hiding:

On May 14, 1948, the State of Israel was born and on the same day the neighbouring Arab nations declared war.  All hell broke loose. The ten-minute drive to the hospital on Mt. Scopus passed through the Arab quarter of Sheikh Jarrah.  Cars travelling to the hospital were often attacked by the inhabitants of the village, while the British authorities stood idly by.  After several such incidents it was decided to only travel to and from the hospital in armoured vehicles.  The arrangement made with medical personnel, which was accepted unanimously, was that each member of staff would work in the hospital for three weeks straight, and then spend a week in Jerusalem.  We continued this way for several months. 
At the end of my week off duty I tidied and cleaned my rented room and returned to the hospital for my next three-week shift. 
On Monday, 12 April 1948, it was once again time to return to Mt. Scopus.  At the pick-up point I was told that the day before mines were discovered along the route.  This had prevented the convoy from leaving Jerusalem.  As the earlier convoy was to be taken up Mt. Scopus first, we were told to come back the next day.
My friend Cyota, who recently confided to me that she was expecting a baby, was overjoyed at the chance of spending another day at home with her husband.  But I had nothing to do in my empty room, with nothing left to eat. 
I remained with those who were waiting.  One of the drivers, who knew me well (I looked after his wife when she delivered their third child) promised that if there was room in the convoy, he would make sure I got in. 
At the last moment he pushed me into a corner in the back of his truck.  It was a short ride to the top, only a few kilometers. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found myself once again safe and sound on the grounds of the hospital compound.


The next day, Tuesday April 13th, at nine in the morning, the personnel expectantly waited to be released from duty by the new shift.  But no cars arrived.  Hearing the salvo of machine guns and explosions we ran to the balconies.  The road was deserted, and columns of smoke rose in the distance.  While the convoy was attacked there was nothing we could do but pray that the British would come to their aid.  All the vehicles were burned.  Most of the people in the convoy perished - professors, doctors, nurses and many others – 78 in all.


Among the dead were three girls from my class -
 Esther, Tzafuna and Margalit. 

To this day I mourn for my friends and all the others murdered in this convoy.  May their memory be eternally blessed.

******************
Thus, last night (at the start of Memorial Day, we remembered these three women: 



The following information is from the website: www.honorisraelsfallen.com

Esther (Cyota) Appelbaum
Daughter of Tova and Yosef, was born on June 25, 1922 in the city of Khotin, in the region of Bessarabia, Romania. In her parents’ home, she was educated in a Zionist spirit and from her childhood she longed for the country. After graduating from the General Gymnasium in the city of Czernowitz, she made every effort to immigrate to Israel, and in March 1944 she left her city of residence and immigrated to Eretz Israel. She spent six months studying absorption and settlement difficulties, and finally decided to start studying at the Hadassah nursing school on Mount Scopus in Jerusalem. She loved the profession she chose and after graduating she continued to work as a registered nurse at Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem. Even after her marriage she continued to work there. With great love she offered her help to the sick, and in this work, she saw a duty of respect for herself. The road to Mount Scopus passed through the Arab neighborhood of Sheikh Jarrah and upon the outbreak of the war the movement was allowed to mount convoys secured by the British army. 

On the morning of April 13, 1948, a convoy left for Mount Scopus, after the British promised that the road was open and safe The convoy encountered an Arab ambush in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood and hundreds of Arabs hurled heavy gunfire at it. Some of the vehicles managed to get out and return, but two buses, an ambulance and an escort vehicle were ambushed. For many hours the convoy members fought and tried to prevent the Arabs from approaching the vehicles. Fire from our positions in the city and Mount Scopus, as well as armored vehicles sent to the area, failed to help the convoy. 
British military forces in the area did not intervene and did nothing to help, despite appeals to them. 
In the afternoon, the Arabs managed to set fire to two buses on their passengers, and only late in the evening did the British intervene and rescue the survivors from the trapped vehicles( 78 of the 112 passengers were killed and 24 injured). 
Esther was brought to rest in a mass grave in the Sanhedria cemetery in Jerusalem. 

Many of the victims had been either stripped naked, mutilated and beheaded by the Arab mobs or were too badly burned to be identified. 

Margalit Ben Shalom, the first Yemenite nurse in Hadassah, was born on June 23, 1926 in Jerusalem to Sarah and David. The father was blind, and the mother had poor eyesight.  Her parents had studied in the famous Blind Institute, where her father later taught.  They had a shop on Ben Yehuda Street where they sold handmade items made by students in the Institute.  Margalit was beautiful, full of the joy of life, and very much loved. 
Margalit attended the Hebrew Gymnasium Rehavia in Jerusalem and after finishing the seventh grade she moved to the Hadassah nursing school. In her youth she belonged to the Scouts and was a member of the Haganah. She loved the art of ballet and playing the violin.
In September 1947 Margalit began working as a registered nurse the Hadassah Hospital on Mt. Scopus, Jerusalem. Her patients admired her for her devoted care and her big smile that always hung on her lips as she entered the hospital rooms. When the War of Independence began, she tirelessly worked in the hospital, even gave up her vacation days for taking care of the wounded.
Margalit was murdered on April 13, 1948 in the same convoy as Esther Appelbaum. She was laid to rest in the cemetery in Sanhedria in Jerusalem.

Tzafuna (Tzipa) Ashbel
Daughter of Hannah and Dov (a professor at the Hebrew University), was born on the last day of Passover in Poland (during her mother’s visit to her parents’ home). When she was 18 months old she returned with her mother to Eretz Israel and grew up in Jerusalem. After completing her studies at Ein-Hahoresh and Ma’aleh Hahamisha, she returned to Jerusalem and entered the Hadassah Nursing School on Mount Scopus.
Tzafuna continued to work with heart and soul at the hospital as a registered nurse.

Ben Yehuda Street bombing Febr. 22, 1948 
On February 22, 1948, three British Army trucks led by an armoured car driven by Arab irregulars and British deserters exploded on Ben Yehuda Street, killing from 49 to 58 civilians and injuring from 140 to 200 people.
The building in which Tzafuna rented a room was badly damaged, but she managed to get out unhurt and began treating the wounded.

Less than two months later, Tzafuna was murdered in the Hadassah Convoy on April 13 and laid to rest in a mass grave in the Sanhedria cemetery.
  
*********************************************


Further reading:







YouTube video about the Hadassah Convoy massacre (the upbeat music they used for this documentary is inappropriate – I think).





Wednesday, 15 April 2020

For such a time as this - # 20


Update # 20 – April 15

It’s so quiet and peaceful outside, this last day of Pesach, which is like a Shabbat. 
The weather is nice – 23 degrees Celsius, and we had breakfast and coffee on the balcony. A heat wave is on its way, and we’re debating of asking our handyman to put up the sun cover on the patio. For now, we keep moving the umbrellas and the table to stay in the shade.

We received an update from the Haifa home for Holocaust survivors, and I’d like to share one story.

Isolation brings back memories

For some, especially those that are in the process of Dementia or Alzheimer, the breaking of the normal daily routine, is giving them even more flash backs and memories of their dark past of the Holocaust. 

Whenever we visit 98-year-old Miriam she immediately brings you back to her horrific youth in ghettos and camps which ended at Auschwitz. 
Whenever we try to change the subject, she continues to live in and talk about that time.
Although some people are glued to their TV screens all day and evenings, others find creative ways to pass the time in their room. 

Mania e.g. has been painting and has written a poem about the Corona crisis every day. 

This is one example:

“One day I went for a little walk, with my mask on my face and rubber gloves all by myself.
All of the sudden I heard a familiar voice from my dining room neighbor who walked behind me.
She was very happy to see me, and we continued our walk together.
When we had walked for a while, we rested on a bench.
Then my next-door neighbor approached and joined us on the bench.
For a little while we completely forgot about Corona, which had taken away our daily routine and enjoyed each other’s company.”




A few days ago there was an uplifting article in the newspaper:


The Health Ministry has begun a project to produce high quality masks that are not only washable so they can be re-used, but are also suitable for all of Israel's dynamic population to use.

The project began Monday morning with the initial production of 300,000 masks. The project line is 100% made in Israel, and employs over a thousand Israeli seamstresses.

"Thanks to the important venture of locally produced masks, we can are able to back our economy which is in dire need of support during these complicated times," said Health Minister Ya'acov Litzman.
With the goal of further preventing the spread of the virus, the masks will be distributed to residents living in areas with a high concentration of the virus by their local authorities together with the Home Front Command. "A mask can be used as personal protection to spread disease and infection," Liztman said.
With the intention of making mask wearing a norm, residents of these areas will be given instruction by the authorities on how to properly wear the masks. Recipients of the mask will receive a kit including three masks paired with an instructional leaflet printed in a variety of languages such as Arabic, English and Hebrew.
The project is being led by defense systems and the Mossad in cooperation with textile experts, and industries that make products for the Defense Ministry. The Mossad has obtained over 10 million masks for Israel, as well as other medical equipment and hundreds of thousands of test kits.

For such a time as this - # 19


April 14

My beloved uncle Piet Overweg passed away at the age of 92 and was to be buried in the Netherlands today. Thankfully, my sister could be at the funeral, but only one of his sons was able to make it. My other nephew lives in Norway, and because no planes were leaving, nor any hotels open, he couldn’t be there his grief with his mom and brother.
The Overweg family: from left to right: my mom, cousin Johan, Aunt Magda, cousin Jan, aunt Sjanie, uncle Ger and uncle Piet. in front: my grandparents. Except for my cousins and aunt Magda (their mother), all the other people in the picture are deceased. 
Thanks to modern day technology Wim and I were able to ‘attend’ the service through YouTube, but the planned zoom meeting at the grave didn’t work, so we missed that. My sister wrote that the sun broke through the moment the casket was lowered in the grave – precious. Uncle Piet’s memory will always be a blessing to me.


Today from 5 p.m. till Thursday evening,  Israel is again in total lock down before the last day of the Pesach holiday. 
It’s not getting easier, and I now realize how fortunate we were those first weeks to be outside so much when delivering the meals. Even though we keep busy and our ‘regular’ routine, it’s not easy because nobody can tell you long it’s going to take before restrictions become more loose.

Nathan Sharansky’s quarantaine tips

Nathan Sharansky, born in 1948 in the Soviet Union, was arrrested aged 29 for his Zionist activity. He spent 9 years in prison, half of this time in solitary confinement. 405 days he was in the punishment cell, so he has have some experience in solitary confinement.

He wants to give five tips to get through quarantine.



https://youtu.be/wdyHlYpRvko

1. In prison, I always had to remind himself that I am part of a huge, global battle. You also should remind yourselves that we are at war with a very dangerous, though invisible enemy. Whether we will succeed in the battle depends also, on our behavior.

2. In prison, Sharansky didn’t know when he would be released, didn’t know in fact if he were to be released at all. Don’t build your future plans based on the hope that in the next few days or in the next few weeks it all will be finished. It does not depend on you. So, try to build plans which fully depend on you. You can decide that finally, in the next three days you can read the book that you wanted to read or in the next month you can learn the language which you always wanted to speak. And then it depends all on you, whether you will succeed in your plans or not.

3. Never give up on your sense of humor. I remember how in prison I enjoyed telling anti-Soviet jokes to my prison guards. And thank God there are so many jokes on the internet. For example, just now, I got a joke on the internet. “The ministry of health informs that all the weddings are cancelled, but those couples that are married continue their life as usual in the meantime.”

4. Don’t give up on your hobbies. I have a great hobby: playing chess.  I knew how to play chess without the board and in the punishment cell, I could play thousands and thousands of games in my head, with myself. You can enjoy singing, playing music, drawing.

5. Feel your connection. Remember that you are not alone. We Jews, for thousands of years, all over the world, were scattered. But we always had this feeling that we are part of a big people, a great people, with our mutual past and our mutual future. And our mutual mission. Think about it. Feel your connection.

Refuah shlema – a full recovery to all our ill. Together, we will succeed.

Am Yisrael Chai! 



For such a time as time - # 18


Update # 18 – April 13

Wim and I walk to the nearby shopping center in Kiryat haYovel via the scenic route, enjoying the sunshine and nature that starts to bloom its heart out.

Before I enter the big supermarket, the security guide checks my temperature. All customers must wear a face-mask, otherwise they are not admitted. 
Normally, the security guard doesn’t have to do much except for sit in his chair at the entrance of the shop.  Now, the guy will be exhausted by the end of the day....
Here’s a story from a doctor, Halleh Akbarnia, that was posted on FB on April 7.

I have been an Emergency Medicine Physician for almost 20 years. I have worked through numerous disasters, and I’m used to the daily grind of heart attacks, gunshots, strokes, flu, traumas, and more. It’s par for the course in my field. Yet nothing has made me feel the way I do about my “job” as this pandemic has—that knot-in-the-pit–of-your-stomach sensation while heading into work, comforted only by the empathetic faces of my colleagues who are going through the same. I am grateful for their presence, knowing they are both literally and figuratively with me, that they understand and accept so profoundly the risks we take each day. I also hope that my friends and family forgive me for my lack of presence during this time—precisely when we need each other most—and that they realize that their words, their encouragement, and their small gestures that come my way daily are the fuel that gets me through each day. This is a story for all of us.

I met my patient, Mr. C., on my first real “pandemic” shift, when what we were seeing that day was what we had been preparing for. He was classic in his presentation, his X-ray findings, his low oxygen levels… we just knew. And he was the nicest man I had met in a long time. Gasping for breath, he kept asking if we needed anything, and that it would all be okay. He told us he was a teacher but that he was learning so much from us, and how much he respected what we were doing. The opposite could not be more true.

We had to decide how long we would try to let him work through this low oxygen state before needing to intubate him. His levels kept falling and despite all our best efforts it was time to put him on the ventilator. He told us he didn’t feel great about this, “but Doc, I trust you and am putting myself in your hands.” That uneasy feeling in my stomach grew even more in that moment. But he, with his teacher's steady voice, kept me grounded, where I was supposed to be. I saw his eyes looking at me, seeing the kindness in them, even as we pushed the medications to put him to sleep. To say this was an “easy” intubation is an understatement. It was not. He nearly left us a few times during those first minutes, but he kept coming back. We fought hard to keep him with us. The patience and strength of my team that day, truly remarkable.

I handed him over to my friend and colleague, Dr. Beth Ginsburg, and her team in the ICU, and her calming voice reassured me that they had it from here. And then for the next twelve days, I waited and watched his progress, knowing the statistics, and how sick he was when he got to us. They did their magic, and just yesterday my new friend Mr. C was extubated. I decided to go “meet” him again.

Mr C. was in the COVID stepdown unit, recovering, without family. Nobody was allowed to visit him; even worse, his wife had been home alone in isolation for the past fourteen days, too. My heart broke thinking of how that must have been for her. I cautiously went into his room, donned in my PPE, and when he saw me, he stopped for a second. 
A moment of recognition.

I introduced myself. “I’m Dr. Akbarnia, Mr. C. I was the last person you saw in the ER. You told me you trusted us to get you to this side. Looks like you did just fine.” He started to cry. He said, “I remember your eyes.” And I started to cry. What he didn’t know is that, at that moment, I realized that we do what we do exactly for people like him, for moments like these. His strength, his kindness, his calming words to me meant everything. At that moment, my heart (which had been beating over 100 bpm since this pandemic began) finally slowed down.

I sat down and we talked. I told him that while he is here, we are his family. He will always have a place in my heart. And whether he knows it or not, he will be my silent warrior and guide as I take care of every patient, COVID or not. He will fuel me until the day I hang up my stethoscope.

(Picture and story posted with full permission from patient)

For such a time as this - # 17


April 12

Translation of a Dutch hymn traditionally sung during the Resurrection Sunday Service

1. A jubilant song, a voice is heard,
Resounding all over Jerusalem
A glorious morning light appears:
The Son of God is risen!

2. No grave could hold David’s Son
That strong Hero, he conquered
He rose from the grave by God’s power
For He is God, clothed with might.

3. Death no longer frightens us
For everything, everything is paid;
He who looks at Jesus by faith
Doesn’t fear death nor hell.

4. Now, that the Lord has risen
Now, new life begins
A life prepared by His death
A life in His glory.


Resurrection Day – no church, but a Zoom Sunrise service with a message from our Pastor, Al Nucciarone. 

6 a.m. was too early for us, but several people from different nations were blessed by this unique service.


Saturday, 11 April 2020

For such a time as this - post 16


Friday, April 10 – Good Friday

Our supermarket was open, so I used the opportunity to walk there and get some fresh air – between the latter rain showers. All the shoppers were wearing facial masks, even the orthodox ones, so there is an improvement here!

Shabbat, April 11

Our ‘regular’ daily schedule is a bit like this:
Wim usually wakes up at 6 a.m. Reads his Bible and prays until I show up at 7.30 a.m. Thankfully, we sleep well, but both dream a lot – the craziest things. While Wim goes outside to pick up the paper (on a regular day) and starts reading it, I go through my emails, whatsapps and whatever else, and check the on-line breaking news from Times of Israel and the Jerusalem Post
A few times a day I check the Hopkins University Corona site-  https://www.arcgis.com/apps/opsdashboard/index.html#/bda7594740fd40299423467b48e9ecf6

At the moment, the USA is still on the # 1 spot, followed by Spain and Italy. Even though the number of infected people is still rising, Israel still has a low number of deaths and a growing number of recovered patients.

It’s encouraging to read about universities using robots to assist the medical personnel in hospitals, or doctors successfully treating critically ill patients with a placenta-based medicine – with amazing results.

Or about the ‘adopt a doctor’ project - https://www.timesofisrael.com/israelis-looking-out-for-overworked-healthcare-professionals/  

In less than three weeks, more than 10,000 have signed up to “Adopt A Doc.” Besides providing needed protective gear and other medical supplies, an army of volunteers has carried out grocery shopping, delivered home cooked meals, babysat for children and even walked the pets of health care providers.
a website that pairs volunteers with nearby doctors, nurses and other overworked medical personnel. Nearly 1,000 now have a designated volunteer who cares for their personal needs, including finding them parking spots in crowded urban centers when they return home from late shifts. Some 3,000 other volunteers offer support in other ways. 
The grassroots organization now has a coordinator at every hospital in the country, has secured donations from private catering companies and its lobbying effort with local municipalities has produced various gestures toward the doctors. Seeing the medical teams in Italy and in China, they wanted to make sure that the Israeli medical teams are taken care of, all their personal lives are taken care of so they can really focus only on being professional and at their best in the hospitals.
Being home these days with nothing to do, the volunteers now feel like they are part of something, and able to help in a constructive way.

Tomorrow is Resurrection Day – there will be no church service, but a woman in our congregation tries to organize a Sunrise service at 6 a.m. through Zoom, which we haven’t installed yet. On Sunday morning, the Garden Tomb usually has a Sunrise service at 6 a.m. that many believers and tourists in Jerusalem attend.  But after such an early start, most of them were too sleepy to attend a regular church service! We used to organize a Passover breakfast at our church, which was always a lot of preparations, and we never knew how many people would show up. I’m glad we stopped doing that a few years ago!

The latter rains (yesterday and today we had a lot of showers) have been amazing this year, and the Sea of Galilee is only a few centimeters short of being full! The water level is now 209.07 meters below sea level, 0.27 meters below the upper red line threshold (208.9 meters below sea level). 
The sea is currently at the highest level it's been since 2004.




For such a time as this - part 15


Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Our neigbourhood supermarket sold eggs, but only one box per client. Another plane load of one million eggs had arrived from Portugal, but those would only be distributed from Sunday on.

Tonight at 6 p.m. a curfew starts until Friday 7 a.m. 
Throughout the city there will be check points and the police and army will act strongly when people disobey the rules. These measurements are needed to keep the ultra-orthodox in check, who will try to celebrate together, despite the health danger.

For us, after the last couple of busy weeks, it feels like a holiday. Strange.

We received a beautiful video clip from the ICEJ, who have been a blessing to Hineni. Wonderful to have been part of this amazing project. Click here to see the video on YouTube:  Many Hands - One Heart

Wim and I didn’t feel like doing a Seder just for the two of us, so we enjoyed our usual ‘dinner’ at lunch time with a glass of wine to celebrate. Trying to live more frugally, we’re down to one glass of wine per week, instead of the one per day. It does taste extra special now.

That evening around 9 p.m. we heard loud singing in the neighbourhood, the voices echoing against the stone walls: “Mah nishtanah haleila hazeh” – why is this night different from all other nights. Because people could not celebrate the Seder meal, the start of the Pesach holidays, with the extended family, they were encouraged to go on the balcony and sing! It happened all over the country, really special.

Our neighbours celebrated via Zoom with a daughter in the Negev, one in the USA, an acquaintance in England and their in-laws. It definitely was a Pesach to remember!

Thursday, April 9

A really quiet day, like a shabbat, but now even more so because of the peace and quiet everywhere.
Because of the coming Good Friday and Passover holiday, I worked hard to be able to send the JBC special edition newsletter out today, instead of the usual Shabbat. On Facebook we saw pictures of Israel under total lockdown, taken by policemen and security personnel. Surreal, with those empty roads!





For Such a time as this - part 14


“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (ESV)

Monday, April 6
Another day without any Hineni meal deliveries felt strange, but we still had a ‘good’ reason to be on the road.

In Gilo, we delivered a food package to an elderly couple from our church, who were thrilled to find items they had forgotten to buy. The Gilo hostel was surprised when I called them, not to deliver meals, but to give the two men a small token of our appreciation. When Israel came down to receive the present, he almost began to cry – he was so touched by the plants and the (obviously very much needed) encouragement. 
When we left the house this morning, we had to wait for a long truck with sound equipment that was backing out of a nearby street. We had been wondering what that was all about, and found out upon returning home...


A saxophone musician who had been giving 'roof' concerts in Tel Aviv, now traveled all over Israel to encourage the people while staying put in their houses. 



Tuesday, April 7
Our last Hineni delivery for the time being. When we arrived, the very short staffed kitchen was still busy filling the 70 boxes.
First a woman from City Hall had to receive her meals plus a few Pesach boxes she was going to deliver personally. Apparently, she was curious who I was and what we had been doing, so she asked if she could take a picture of Wim and I. On our way to the car she asked the usual things, “How long do you live here? Are you Jewish?, etc.” She thanked us profusely for our willingness to help and promised to send us the pictures.


Our ‘friend’ Galina in Pisgat Zeev was, as usual, enthusiastic to receive the meals and also presently surprised by the plant. The last stop was the Golden Age home in Ramot. Two female soldiers created a ‘checkpoint’ in front of the main entrance, so I had to leave the present for Yelena, our contact person with them. She later sent me a picture of the plant with a big heart and ‘todah!’

Traffic was VERY busy; we had been spoiled by the ‘empty’ roads. This was the last day people were allowed to go shopping and driving to other cities (if necessary) because restrictions were becoming even stricter at sundown. On the roads leaving the city were several roadblocks, creating traffic jams. When we were stopped, I just had to show our permit and the policeman waved us through. 

“Do you want to go shopping now?” Wim asked before heading home.
“No way! Everyone is crazy the day before Pesach.” I had learned my lesson the hard way. “I’ll walk to the shop tomorrow morning, gives me an excuse to be outside.”

It felt like a Friday evening when all the buses stopped running at 6 p.m., part of the new pre-Pesach restrictions to make sure people stayed home. Normally, people were driving all over Israel to be with their friends and families for the Pesach holiday. Not this year – it will be a Pesach no one will forget!

Sunday, 5 April 2020

For such a time as this - part 13


April 5, 2020    part 13

In the last post I mentioned we were planning to start delivering the Hineni Pesach boxes. However, on Thursday night Wim began to suffer from diarrhea, had a lot of phlegm and even vomited. Thankfully, he didn’t have a fever and no shortness of breath, but naturally it scared and worried us because nowadays, the first thing that comes to mind is: is it corona? We felt bad having to cancel our Hineni participation, but there was nothing we could do about it.
While picking up the newspaper, Wim came back with a surprise!
Our neighbour received a plant from their health fund and decided to give it to us. 

While ten people (the maximum allowed) from the ICEJ staff worked hard that morning to prepare the Pesach packages, we had a ‘lazy’ morning. Wim had probably eaten something the day before that had been ‘off’ and that, together with the explosive start of the allergy season, triggered a strong reaction. As the day went on, he soon was back to normal, for which we were so grateful!

That Friday, we enjoyed the extra day of rest, for it had been a busy week. During normal times, I’m at home most of the week, and now, more than ever, I’m out of the house, and on the phone. Trying to make sense of our new ‘normal’ also takes a lot of mental energy. 

A trip to the supermarket wasn’t a success, as I noticed a line of waiting people outside. Not wanting to waste my time, I walked back home again. “You are back quickly!” Wim said. “We have enough to last till Sunday.)  

I was able to make a start with the special weekly newsletter for our church, which always takes more time than I expect but it’s such a joy to do. On Shabbat it was ready to be sent out all over the world and bless and encourage our fellow believers.

Because of a sharav (heat wave), we had our coffee on the balcony. The hot dry weather is expected to break on Sunday afternoon and will drop from 29 degrees Celsius to 18 again and night temperatures below 100 C. They even predict some rain later this week.

Sunday morning: we were ready for a new day and week. I woke up tired, because (in my dreams) I had been busy packing the car with Hineni meals to distribute and stressing about the Pesach boxes we also had to deliver... How on earth could we get everything ready in time?

It took a long time before we received an answer from Benjamin and Kochava, who told us the meals were ready, but they were still waiting for the distribution list. While we were on our way to Hineni, Kochava phoned with the news that today there were no deliveries – Lena from City Hall had spoken... Lena was probably too busy with the Pesach distribution to also deal with the meals. We all felt bad for the people who didn’t get anything to eat today because of that, but there was nothing we could do about it. 

So, while Wim stayed in the car (there was no parking place to be found in the narrow street), I took some pictures of the ICEJ volunteers that were hard at working filling the last 100 Pesach boxes. I was so relieved when Benjamin told us that 400 packages already had been picked up by contact persons to be delivered to needy people around Jerusalem.

items inside the Pesach package. Flyer with Hebrew/Russian Ps. 91 
Not having to deliver any meals, freed us to do some shopping of our own. I wanted to buy some plants for some of the contact persons we had encountered while delivering the meals. The door of the Kiryat haYovel flower shop was blocked, so I had to shout to the people in the back of the shop if they could help me. The plants were ridiculously expensive, NIS 50 for a kalanchoe, but the cheaper alternative didn’t make for a nice present, so it had to do. “Do not stand in front of the door, but on the side,” the owner told me. I was wearing a mask, he didn’t, but I complied. While waiting for him to wrap the five plants in festive paper, I noticed that the nearby supermarket refused to let people in who didn’t wear a face mask. Perhaps this new rule cancels the ’10 customers at a time’ restriction. Would make sense.

There was no line of shoppers waiting to be let in our neighborhood supermarket. Some people wore masks, some also gloves, but some didn’t wear any. We stocked up on milk and other food, but eggs were not available. Several people asked the owner if he had eggs and left when they heard there weren’t any. (People have been hoarding them before Pesach.) Some supermarkets only sell eggs (12 per client) when they buy groceries for more than NIS 150. I was pleasantly surprised to see face-masks were now sold as well! Guess where they are from? CHINA!

















Thursday, 2 April 2020

For such a time as this - part 12


April 2nd

Later than usual we received the call: come and deliver meals! Only two addresses: in Pisgat Zeev and Kiryat Menachem. The three faithful Hineni volunteers had been busy again – the ‘towers-of-ten’ meals were already waiting for us. Benjamin and the office staff were busy coordinating and phoning about the articles that were expected to arrive for the Pesach gift boxes. We had printed 100 flyers at home, so they would have enough to start. Meanwhile, a printshop in Talpiot, that thankfully was still open, was printing another 600 and we could pick it up later that day. 

We decided to bring the largest batch of 140 meals to Kiryat Menachem first. A large truck that was unloading vegetables blocked the entrance, so we lifted the meals over the divider. Today was such a dramatic change from the empty entrance yesterday. 


Neighbourhood volunteers were busy filling plastic bags with tomatoes, broccoli, carrots and other vegetables to be distributed to needy families in the neighbourhood. We left the warm meals in the Center’s main hall – the man in charge was waiting for a list with names and addresses for distribution. He had so much on his mind these days!

Our next stop was the Speedio printshop in Talpiot. 
The door was locked but after I made the ‘phone’ sign someone opened the door a crack. “Sorry, no one is allowed to come inside.” The owner handed me the printed flyers and I gave him the visa card. From the doorway we wished each other a happy and healthy Pesach!

Back at Hineni, most of the extra volunteers for the Pesach packages had arrived, but not the deliveries....I dropped off the flyers that still needed to be folded, and we continued our tour to Pisgat Zeev.

Galina already called where we were, as the volunteers were waiting for the meals to be distributed. When we arrived a lot of people were waiting for us. As always, Galina was so very grateful for the 70 meals. 

After such an exciting morning, it’s always good to be back home and relax a little. Tomorrow morning we’ll start early: be at Hineni at 9 a.m. to help packing the boxes. When Benjamin has the list of addresses, we can also start delivering them! 
The volunteers cannot pick up speed while filling the boxes because of the 2-meter distance rule. The delivery truck didn’t receive permission from the police to unload the truck in the one-way street, so he had to drive around several times, unload a part, drive around again, etc.

Benjamin told us that, because of the Corona crisis they don’t receive permission from the government to work during the intermediate days of Pesach this year. “That will be the very first time we are closed,” Benjamin said.
The cook also cannot work without his assistant Mohammed, who won’t receive permission to enter the Jerusalem district during the Pesach week. For security reasons, there is always a weeklong closure of Judea and Samaria during the holidays.

We’ll see what happens. The coming days we’ll be working extra hard to get everything ready and distributed: the meals and the packages.

Somehow, we also have to find a flower shop that sells small plants – I want to encourage some of our contacts with something special for the Pesach holiday.

By the way, Petra’s new mask got quite a few surprised responses.


Some facts and figures (from today’s Jerusalem Post)
  • One Million people unemployed – about half the applicants are aged 20-34. Rate: 25% compared to 4% prior to the outbreak.
  • Extremist ultra-orthodox Jews (Hassidic) continue to fight the enforcement. Most of them belong to anti-Zionist sects that are not connected to mainstream ultra-Orthodox groups. They refuse to accept instructions from the senior rabbinic leadership of the mainstream ultra-Orthodox world, let alone state authority. By not complying to the Corona virus restrictions not only do they endanger their own community but also the rest of the population of the cities in which they reside.
  • 40% of Israelis are stressed out, a survey shows, the women more so than the men. 65% worries about their financial situation in the foreseeable future. However, most Israelis believe that society will be able to recover from the crisis.