 |
| UKRAINE |
I just returned from Ukraine, where I met with some of the thousands of Jews displaced by the fighting in eastern Ukraine and with JDC colleagues and volunteers who have been working night and day to offer critically needed emergency aid and solace to Jews in the middle of a tragic and worsening conflict.
I was utterly inspired by the raw power of the human condition to persevere in adversity and our mission to be there in times of great upheaval, grave danger, and massive destruction.
I was painfully reminded once again that there is a private language among the displaced and dispossessed. It is a language that finds strength in the shared despair expressed when refugees of war gather with one another. It is a language that compels a staff member or volunteer to clamber through destroyed buildings and sniper fire to deliver a food package to a homebound, elderly Jew. And it is a language that empowers our work today in eastern Ukraine because it has led so many to turn to their Jewish community at a time of emergency. There is simply no one else they can turn to.
I want to share with you several snapshots that demonstrate how that unique language has emerged in our emergency relief efforts during this conflict. We sprang into action in February, at the beginning of this crisis, with the immediate and generous support of our extraordinary partners in Rabbi Yechiel Eckstein and the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews and the Jewish Federations of North America.
These stories of perseverance are a credit to this global response and a reminder that we are all bound to one another.
Losing Items and Memories
It’s 70 degrees and sunny in Dnepropetrovsk, but nearly everyone speaks about the looming winter.
Will there be gas for heating, and if so, will anyone be able to afford it? Money is scarce, and the purchasing power of pensions has been devastated by the spiraling devaluation of the hrivna (the national currency of Ukraine). People can buy less and less every day of the basic necessities of life.
Winter – always a concern in this part of the world – is looming larger than ever on the minds of Ukrainians. They fled the bombed-out cities of Donetsk, Lugansk, Kramatorsk, Slavyansk, Horlivka, and other locations and are now staying wherever accommodations can be found with JDC’s help. These include summer recreation centers with no heat — those who are there will need to leave soon.
One couple who fled Donetsk broke down within seconds after we began to speak. Overwrought with emotion, the woman spoke about the fabled roses of her hometown and how she misses them so. Her lips quivered and her body shook as she spoke.
Another couple related how they fled their home under fire with nothing but the clothes they wore. They each held my hands, retelling how they escaped.
“I will never see my parents again,” the wife said.
“Were they unable to come with you?" I asked.
“They passed away a long time ago,” she explained. But she left a photo album of them behind. She would never see their pictures again.
“Everything else can be replaced,” she sobbed. “One way or another.” But the album was priceless.
Traumatized by both Old and New Wounds
I met the Dvoskina-Voloza family, linked by two extraordinary mothers-in-law, who fled Lugansk for Dnepropetrovsk. Roza Dvoskina was born in 1931 into a Jewish family in Lugansk. When World War II started, Roza was evacuated along with her mother, two brothers, and grandfather. On her return, Roza got married and had two children, including her daughter, Polina.
Yana Voloza, born in 1934, is also from Lugansk. Yana’s mother worked as a surgeon and moved by train from one place to another saving the lives of Soviet soldiers during the war. Thanks to her mother's service, Yana escaped the horrors of Nazi brutality. When the war ended, Yana returned to Lugansk. She lived in the city with her husband and son, Pavel.
Polina and Pavel are married and today, together with their mothers, are getting help from JDC as they attempt to settle down in this new city and manage the emotional upheaval and the material loss they are suffering. The four of them live together in a tiny rented apartment and get support from the local Hesed social welfare center, which includes food, medicine, and hygienic supplies.
Their grandson lives in Germany and helps the family to pay the rent, but the rest of their support comes from the JDC, as we do all we can to offer them comfort at a time of tremendous trauma and instability.
But that cannot heal all wounds, of course. Until now, Yana's wartime memories were repressed. And though she was able to flee from the Nazis, just as she was able to flee from Lugansk a month ago, when she recalls to me both of those journeys, the trauma of both merge together. The look in her eyes was haunting.
A "Righteous Gentile"
I met a most extraordinary man who stood out among so many extraordinary people. His name is Victor Petrovich of Slavyansk.
During the heat of battle, Victor, a 65-year-old non-Jewish man who insisted on volunteering to help the desperate Jews of his city, delivered food and medicine on his bicycle — under intense fire — to more than 100 Jews who were trapped in their homes. His mission required him to make phone calls to the welfare center to find out their addresses, which he often had to do from rooftops, the only place where cell phone reception was possible. He literally risked his life — over and over again — because he could well have been mistaken for a combatant and shot.
One way he dealt with the stress of his mission was to recite prayers in Hebrew that he had memorized, prayers he had learned in broken pieces from others. He recited those prayers for me — and I was stunned.
I asked him why he decided to repeatedly risk his life and he said, very matter-of-factly, “If I didn’t, who would?”
Again, I was speechless. Victor is the contemporary embodiment of a “Righteous Gentile,” a person of such great courage and selflessness who is not just a blessing to us Jews, but to all humanity.
Exuding Bravery, But Also Pain
Galina is the 80-year-old director of JDC’s community center in Kramatorsk. This grandmother and great-grandmother has been working 24/7 during the crisis to ensure lifesaving and sustaining care for the Jews who remain behind in her area.
But today, she has been forced to operate remotely from Dnepropetrovsk and, like her colleagues in this city, she connects with the dozens of workers and volunteers who stayed behind in the conflict zones and who are going door-to-door to aid those in need.
When I spoke to Galina, who lost six elderly clients in the conflict, she exuded incredible bravery, but it was also possible to sense the deep trauma that she suffers. And she is not alone. Not by a long shot. It is our responsibility to care for them during this crisis and after the violence ceases.
Still Optimistic about Life
At the new Jewish community center in Dnepropetrovsk, I met an inspiring group of 16- to 25-year-old Jewish teens and young adults. Most of these vibrant, spirited young people have reclaimed their Jewish identities within the last several years. Like their parents and neighbors, they are deeply worried, if not traumatized, by what they’ve witnessed and experienced in Ukraine of late.
Yet despite the anguish and uncertainty, they are optimistic about life. Their Jewishness is a major pillar in their identity and helps provide a strengthened sense of community to cope with whatever lies ahead.
They are the leaders of the Jewish future and they believe that they will be able to make their world a better place. Incredibly, hope springs eternal in these inspiring young men and women. And they are part of the continuing miracle of our time: a Jewish community in a place where history and the forces of change did their best to ensure this community could never exist.
Thankful to Have Lifesaving Partnerships
JDC is blessed to have partners in this avodat kodesh — this sacred work. From the Jewish Federations to the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews led by Rabbi Yechiel Eckstein to the Claims Conference and World Jewish Relief to our local community partners at Chabad and others in the world who have stepped forward at this time of severe human suffering. They are saving lives and are keeping the flame of hope flickering where it is so desperately needed.
And we will stoke that flame. That is who we are and what we do, from one generation to the next. May the people of Ukraine know better days ahead.
No comments:
Post a Comment