Rose’s Angels co-founder Courtney Cohen, left, with May Stefanov, tenant relations coordinator with Tikva Housing Society. (photo from Rose’s Angels)
Rose’s Angels recently completed its 12th year of giving, donating collected items to 14 Richmond not-for-profits, including Richmond Family Place, Colt Young Parent Program, Mamas for Mamas, Turning Point Recovery Society, Jewish Food Bank, Tikva Housing Society and Pathways Clubhouse.
Rose’s Angels, which operates under the auspices of the Kehila Society of Richmond, was created in 2012 by Courtney Cohen and co-founder Lynne Fader, in memory of Cohen’s grandmothers, Rose Lewin and Babs Cohen, who were both philanthropic and believed in giving back to community.
This year, an abundance of personal care items, non-perishable food, children’s arts and crafts, books and baby formula was donated. For many recipient agencies, baby formula and diapers are among their top priority items, and Rose’s Angels was able to give a large quantity of these items this year.
Donors, volunteers and other community members are integral to the success of Rose’s Angels. Letters were sent out to partner agencies, family, friends and others in January. Last month, monetary and physical donations were collected, Richmond Jewish Day School hosted a hygiene-item drive, and gift cards to grocery stores were purchased. Donations were then packaged and delivered by volunteers.
Cohen reflected on her hope to continue the legacy of her parents and grandparents.
“I hope to instil in my children the importance of tikkun olam (repairing the world) by focusing on one mitzvah at a time,” she said.
To learn more about or donate to Rose’s Angels, email rosesangelsevent@gmail.com or call the Kehila Society at 604-241-9270.
Tal Kinstlich and Stephanie Schneider, the owners of Vancouver’s Kosher Food Warehouse. (photo from Kosher Food Warehouse)
Canada is exempting key imported Passover foods from the current diplomatic trade war with the United States. The ministry of finance sent The CJN a list of kosher-for-Passover products imported from the United States, which are going to be allowed into Canada without being hit by the extra 25% retaliatory import tariffs that Ottawa began imposing on March 4.
The list includes matzah and related matzah products, cake mixes, chocolate, margarine, most juices (but not apple), gefilte fish, and canned fruit and vegetables. However, US exports of nuts, spices, dairy, wine, coffee, chicken and meat products are not exempt.
The development comes after Canada’s biggest kosher food importer recently predicted that the on-again-off-again tariff dispute would rocket prices for imported kosher-for-Passover food by up to 60%. Canadian Jewish leaders have been lobbying Ottawa to give relief to the country’s Jewish community as it heads into the holiday season.
While the news will likely bring a sigh of relief to consumers, it is only a temporary reprieve: it covers only Passover foods and runs only until the end of Passover.
For more on how these food tariffs are impacting Canadian kosher food stores and suppliers across Canada, and what advice they have for you, listen to the episode of The CJN Daily that features the owners of Vancouver’s Kosher Food Warehouse, Tal Kinstlich and Stephanie Schneider. Jack Hartstein also joins: he’s the vice-president of Montreal-based Altra Foods, the largest importer of kosher foods in Canada. The link is thecjn.ca/podcasts/key-passover-imports-will-be-exempt-from-tariff-war-with-u-s-ottawa-confirms.
Sussita entrepreneur Itzhak Shubinsky driving a Sabra Sport car, from the newspaper Barkav, in the 1960s. (photo from Haifa City Museum)
For a trip down memory lane, cruise over to Haifa’s City Museum at 11 Ben-Gurion Blvd., in the German Colony, to see Sussita: The Exhibition. The display, which continues until May 25 (the opening was delayed by Hezbollah rocket fire from Lebanon), documents Israel’s failed automobile industry during the early decades of statehood.
Alas, the doorways of the museum’s 19th-century Templar building are too narrow to permit restored examples of the fibreglass shell cars to pass through. So, on hand is a stripped-down version of a Sussita, and a trove of fascinating documents and photos. Missing are full-size examples of the Carmel truck and Sabra Sport roadster that Autocars Co. Ltd. assembled at its Haifa workshop and then in the city of Tirat Carmel.
The exhibit was curated by Yifat Ashkenazi, together with filmmaker Avi Weissblei. The latter produced the 2020 documentary Desert Tested, which told the Sussita’s story.
Like Shai Agassi’s Better Place electric car company, which went through almost $1 billion in venture capital before declaring bankruptcy in 2013, Israel’s ultimately insolvent auto industry never thrived.
A Sussita Autocars Co. Ltd. advertisement in the 1960s, featuring its “5 Road Champions!” (photo from Haifa City Museum)
The Sabra’s aerodynamic curves evoke the glamour of early James Bond films. Nonetheless, even though they were jump-started by foreign firms, Haifa’s car business never quite managed to compete with Detroit.
Discussing Autocars’ 1966 Sussita at carsurvey.org, one classic car aficionado noted: “What things have gone wrong with the car?
Almost everything! It was a very cheap car made of a fibreglass body attached to a very simple welded pipes chassis, with a Triumph engine. The car was unstable, seriously dangerous, unreliable and very badly built.”
Folklore has it that camels liked to munch on the cars’ fibreglass body. But the relative paucity of dromedaries in 1960s Israel makes the truth of this story doubtful.
Founded in the mid-1950s with assistance from Britain’s ReliantMotor Co., Autocars initially assembled quirky but popular three-wheeled micro-cars. The first four-wheeled blue-and-white vehicle, the Sussita, was also designed by Reliant.
The Sussita, meaning mare in Aramaic, developed a reputation as a reliable workhorse. By 1960, Autocars was exporting the cheaply priced car – available in estate, van and pick-up models – to the United States and Canada. Rebranded as the Sabra – a genus of cactus originally from Mexico that had become a descriptor of native-born Israelis – the car sold poorly in North America due to its inferior quality.
That year, in 1960, Autocars’ owner Itzhak Shubinsky spotted the coupé Ashley GT at London’s Sports and Racing Car Show. Changing business strategy, he purchased the bodywork moulds and created the Sabra Sport, which made its debut at the 1961 New York Motor Show. The roadster car was also sold as a hardtop coupe. Fewer than 150 were exported to the United States, while a similar number were sold in Belgium.
Reliant also launched the car in Britain. Anglicizing its moniker to Sabre, the prickly cactus morphed into a swashbuckling sword.
Advertising for the Sussita: “You bought Sussita, you were not wrong.” (photo from Haifa City Museum)
Expanding production, in 1961, Autocars introduced the Carmel, named for the mountain that defines Haifa. The car featured a 1,200cc Ford Cortina engine mounted in a Reliant chassis.
By 1965, Autocars declared bankruptcy and was taken over by Britain’s Leyland-Triumph. Revamping the product line, the following year it introduced the Gilboa, a four-door version of the Carmel. In 1967, it produced an off-road, front-wheel drive utility called the Dragoon.
But the red ink continued to spill. In 1971, Leyland severed its ties with its Israeli subsidiary. Three years later, Autocars was bought by Rom Carmel Industries, which brought out its Gilboa-based Rom 1300.
Sputtering along, in 1978, the company was purchased by the Netanya-based foundry Urdan Industries. Restyled again, the Rom 1300 became the Rom 1301. But declining sales could not be reversed, going from a peak of manufacturing more than 3,000 cars annually during the 1960s to just 540 cars rolling off the assembly line in 1980, the last full year of production. In 1981, the plant shut its gates.
For more about the exhibit, visit hcm.org.il/eng/exhibitions/11128/sussita.
Light projections on the internal walls of the Tower of David, in Jerusalem, part of the Night Spectacular. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Tourism to Israel plummeted after Oct. 7, 2023. For example, January 2024 saw an 80% drop in visitors from a year previous. Those who did travel to Israel were often on solidarity missions or volunteer programs.
In March, I visited for 10 days, speaking with scores of Israelis about the situation, their grief, determination and changed attitudes, among other things. During that period, there was not a single siren in central Israel, though, days after my departure, the ceasefire ended and war in earnest began again.
It may seem frivolous or disrespectful to speak of “tourism” or “sightseeing” in moments such as these. The example of Israelis, however, is, as ever, resilience and getting on with it. Museums are open and, no matter what brings you to Israel, making time for recreation is necessary and, in many cases, adds depth to the understanding of what is happening now. A few of my destinations and choices are a bit odd – not what every visitor might choose – but others, like the Tower of David, should be on your must-see list.
Story of Jerusalem
The Tower of David Museum tells the story of Jerusalem. With a multimillion-dollar investment in new technologies upgrading the experience, the centrality of the city of Jerusalem in multiple traditions is underscored by the imagery of the city as the “navel of the world.”
From 5,000-year-old idols and 3,000-year-old stamps indicating a thriving bureaucracy, to Theodor Herzl and the modern state, the museum tells the story of a place with more history than geography.
A not-to-be-missed component is the immersive, after-dark sound and light show called the Night Spectacular. Perhaps less informative than just, well, spectacular, the 40-minute program projects the epochs of the city’s history (that is, its litany of invasions) onto the interior walls of the imposing citadel. Combo tickets to the museum, permitting evening entry for the show, are available. The effect is all-immersing, more powerful and moving than I could have anticipated. It will captivate visitors of every age.
History of Jewish militias
Like the Haganah Museum in Tel Aviv (see below), the Museum of the Underground Prisoners Jerusalem takes a politically ecumenical approach to the history of Jewish militias fighting the British in pre-state Israel.
Located in the former British Mandate-era jail, the museum tells the story of resistance fighters from the Haganah, the main defence force of the pre-state Jewish community, the Revisionist Irgun (Etzel) and the more radical Lehi (“Stern Gang”).
Jewish prisoners were captured and punished for sabotage against the British, including the smuggling of Holocaust survivors and others into Palestine. Some of the prisoners were executed in the prison yard and these lives are commemorated movingly.
Holocaust remembrance
Yad Vashem: The World Holocaust Remembrance Centre is always a moving pilgrimage. The primary exhibit space – an A-frame hall with windows at the peak, reminding us that the events took place in full view of the world (and, arguably, God) – provides a chronological history of the Shoah. The slash across the top of the Moshe Safdie-designed building also represents the permanent scar this history has left on humankind.
Like the Tower of David, Yad Vashem has had a huge infusion of money to update the exhibits and add high-tech components.
The eternal flame, at Yad Vashem. (photo by Pat Johnson)
A simple, but crucial, aspect of the exhibit is at the start, after visitors traverse the “bridge to a vanished world,” and a short film loops the story of the pre-Shoah Jewish civilization that was destroyed. This contextualizing of what was lost is an irreplaceable part of the experience.
The permanent exhibit, including the emotional Hall of Names, is what the public most often sees and it provides the history of the Holocaust for people of all levels of knowledge. The vast work of the centre remains mostly out of sight, with archives, research, recording and publication being a less visible but no less important component of Yad Vashem’s mandate.
Har Herzl Pathway
For a British Columbian, it is hard to fathom what Israelis call “mountains.” The Mount of Remembrance (home to Yad Vashem) and Mount Herzl (or Har Herzl) are hardly recognizable as distinct geographic places, let alone mountains.
Monument to Israeli victims of terror, part of the many cemeteries on Mount Herzl, final resting place of soldiers, leaders and the fallen. (photo by Pat Johnson)
In any event, from Yad Vashem, it is a relatively short walk to the Herzl Museum, which is adjacent to the grave in which the founder of political Zionism was reinterred in 1949 from his original resting place in Vienna.
Between these two destinations are the resting places of most of Israel’s leaders, as well as cemetery after cemetery filled with soldiers and civilians killed in Israel’s successive wars and terror attacks.
It was only by happenstance – well, if you are arriving by foot, you can’t miss it, but those arriving by vehicle might – that I discovered a memorial walking path between Yad Vashem and the Herzl Museum, snaking through these sad, chronological rows of graves.
The trail, as a distinct entity, is a bit of a mystery. A post-trip web search indicates there is seemingly not even an agreed-upon name for the path. The information at the entryway says that it was developed by Jewish youth movements but the specific groups go unnamed. The signage is likewise a bit perplexing, without always clear directions or explanations. The larger message, though, does not require plinths: Israel and thousands of Israeli families have paid an enormous price for the country’s existence.
Learning about Herzl
Having meandered through the sombre cemeteries of Israel’s war dead and the resting places of most of the country’s prime ministers, presidents and other historical greats, you arrive at the imposing grave of Theodor Herzl. Nearby, the museum bearing his name tells the story of the man with the crazy dream of a Jewish state.
Replica of Theodor Herzl’s office, including his original desk and other artifacts, at the Herzl Museum, Jerusalem. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Museum-goers are given a guided tour from room to room, following a cheesy video of a pair of dramatic impresarios didactically directing an actor preparing for the role of Herzl but who has no idea who the man was. The actor (and, not at all subtly, the visitor) is educated on the Dreyfus Affair, which was the polarizing moment when the secular, assimilated Herzl concluded the Jews would never be free without a state of their own. The displays take visitors through his activism, and we eventually join delegates at the First Zionist Congress.
The museum includes the re-creation of Herzl’s home office and many important relics of his life.
Connecting past, present
Gush Katif Museum is an unexpected little museum in Jerusalem’s Nachlaot neighbourhood, which tells the story of the 17 Jewish settlements that were evacuated during the “disengagement plan” from Gaza in 2005.
The Israeli government withdrew from Gaza two decades ago in hopes of allowing a sort of pilot project in Palestinian self-government. In the process, and amid (yet another) emotional national dialogue, Jewish settlements in the enclave were evacuated.
With a decidedly political agenda, the museum finds relevance today, as many Israelis look at the situation in Gaza and, with 20/20 hindsight (or something like it), question every decision that may have led to today’s realities.
In an interesting thought experiment, a Jewish resident evacuated from Gaza, speaking in the museum’s introductory film, inverts the common perception of Jewish settlements in the area. Rather than the probably prevailing view of Jewish settlements as an imposition on Palestinian land, he makes the case that Israel gave 90% of Gaza to the Arabs and some still wanted to erase the Jewish presence entirely. (Ignoring the ideological point and contesting the details, Jewish settlements in the Gaza Strip took up something around 20% of the land in the small area.) It’s a perspective that challenges the idea that, even absent a negotiated two-state solution, the Palestinians deserve 100% of the occupied territories. Presumably, it is just this type of questioning the museum hopes to engender.
The Gush Katif Museum explores more than modern history, of course, going back to the earliest Jewish settlement in the area, and the successive expulsions by the Romans and the Turks.
Origins of the IDF
Moving on to Tel Aviv, the Haganah Museum tells the story of the Jewish militia that morphed, upon statehood, into the Israel Defence Forces.
The museum is located on Rothschild Boulevard, in one of Tel Aviv’s oldest buildings, originally the home of Eliyahu Golomb, a founder and ideological leader of the Haganah.
The home of Eliyahu Golomb, founder and ideological leader of the Haganah. This was the site of many clandestine and pivotal meetings of the underground resistance. (photo by Pat Johnson)
While there were other military operatives, the Haganah was the de facto militia of the Yishuv, the pre-state Jewish community. The museum, though, takes a broader view, beginning with the role of “tower and stockade settlements” on the peripheries of the proto-state, through the First World War Zion Mule Corps, the Jewish Legion (which helped the rise to prominence of Revisionist leaders like Ze’ev Jabotinsky), and touches on the roles of Revisionist Etzel (the Irgun) and its breakaway group Lehi (the “Stern Gang”) in taking the fight to the British. In an ideological and military skirmish after independence, these groups would be forcibly unified into the IDF.
The museum includes the crucial role the Haganah played in the Aliyah Bet, the illegal migration of Jews into pre-state Israel during the period of British blockade of Jewish refugees.
At the entry to the building is a relief mural by Israeli sculptor Moshe Ziffer, with figures in traditional kibbutz-style clothing, linking the movement to the pioneering Zionist ethos, as well as fighters shielding and defending Jewish families. There are also ancient symbols in the artwork, implying the Maccabean revolt, and including modern symbols of the transition to statehood, in 1948.
Statues of David Ben-Gurion and his wife Pola, by artist Ruth Kestenbaum Ben-Dov, on Tel Aviv’s Independence Trail. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Independence Trail
The Haganah Museum is a central part of the cobbled-together tourist route branded “Independence Trail.” What would ostensibly be the centrepoint of the trail – Independence Hall, the home of Tel Aviv’s first mayor, Meir Dizengoff, and the place where David Ben-Gurion read aloud Israel’s Declaration of Independence on May 14, 1948 – is surrounded by scaffolding amid ongoing renovations without a set date for reopening.
An easy-to-follow map of the ambling tour is available at the tourism kiosk in the pedestrian boulevard between the Haganah Museum and Independence Hall. The tour begins (if you want to do it in un-Israeli orderly fashion) at the city’s first kiosk, a restoration of which still serves refreshments to Tel Avivians and tourists.
The site of the first kiosk in Tel Aviv. The location is still a destination for refreshments. (photo by Pat Johnson)
The walk continues past the Nahum Gutman Fountain, which depicts the history of Jaffa and its sister-city-come-lately Tel Aviv, from the setting-off place of Jonah on his way to the fish’s belly, through Egyptian invaders, Crusaders, Napoleonic forces on up to Herzl and to the Declaration of Independence that took place a few steps away.
Other stops on the trail include the site of Herzliya Hebrew Gymnasium, the world’s first modern Hebrew-language high school; the Palatin Hotel, the resting stop for famous names of the 20th century; Tel Aviv’s Great Synagogue; several buildings that are notable more for being examples of the Bauhaus or International Style of architecture than for historical import; the Tel Aviv Founders Monument; a statue of Dizengoff, astride his horse; and several others. The map and trail provide a quick and easy guide to important sites that you might otherwise overlook in a small area of central Tel Aviv.
Tragic walking tour
An unusual, if not terribly uplifting, activity is the Tragic Tel Aviv Walking Tour, which visits sites in the city centre where terror and even Second World War attacks killed civilians.
Easily missed: A monument to one of Tel Aviv’s many terror attacks. (photo by Pat Johnson)
On Sept. 9, 1940, Italian war planes operating from the island of Rhodes, made sorties over Haifa and Tel Aviv, killing 137 people, with many more injured. The attacks targeted no Allied (that is, British) military infrastructure and shattered what, to then, had been a feeling of relative isolation from the European war among the residents of pre-state Palestine. The monument to the bombing in Mikhoels Square, at the corner of Levinsky and Aliyah streets, is modest and easily overlooked if you are not explicitly seeking it – or even if you are.
Led by former Torontonian Jeffrey Levi, the tour then proceeds through sadly seemingly endless locations of suicide bombings and other terror attacks, many of which took place during the Second Intifada. In some cases, the historical events that left Israelis dead or wounded are not commemorated at all, or are marked by likewise inconspicuous markers.
If there is an uplifting message in this tour, it is in the innocuous manner in which most of these historical tragedies are commemorated (or not). As Levi recounts the devastations of the past, Tel Avivians hustle by, literally and figuratively moving past the past.
חברת התעופה הלאומית של קנדה, אייר קנדה, תחזור לטוס לישראל במהלך חודש מאי הקרוב. זאת, בכפוף למצב הביטחוני שישרור באזור הנחשב לאחד המסוכנים העולם. ואם המלחמה תסתיים סוף סוף ולא צפויים משברים נוספים קרובים
במקור הייתה אמורה אייר קנדה לחזור לטוס לישראל במהלך חודש אפריל, אך כאמור לסוף הוחלט בחברה הקנדית לדחות את הטיסות לתל אביב בחודש ימים. כך מסבירה מנכ”ל אייר קנדה בישראל, רות בן צור. היא הוסיפה: “יש לנו ביטחון מלא בקו, ברגע שיכולנו לחזור זה הדבר הראשון שעשינו”
אייר קנדה הפסיקה לחלוטין לטוס לישראל לאור המשבר הביטחוני הקשה במזרח התיכון, המלחמה בעזה והמלחמה בלבנון, במהלך חודש אפריל שנה שעברה. אז אמרו בחברה הקנדית כי: “הפעילות של אייר קנדה לתל אביב וממנה תישאר מושעית לעתיד הנראה לעין, לאחר מעקב אחר ההתפתחויות באזור. אנו מתחייבים לחדש את הטיסות לישראל וממנה ונעשה זאת ברגע שזה יהיה בטוח עבור לקוחותינו והצוותים שלנו”
כאמור במהלך חודש מאי הקרוב, אייר קנדה צפויה לחדש את הטיסות מטורונטו ומונטריאול לתל אביב. יצויין כי כיום אין טיסות ישירות מקנדה לישראל, לאחר שחברת התעופה הלאומית של ישראל אל על, הפתיעה בהודעתה כי החל מחודש אוקטובר שנה שעברה, היא ביטלה את הטיסות הישירות לטורונטו ומונטריאול. וזאת, מחוסר כידאיות כלכלית בזמן שעדיף היה להסיט את המטוסים לקווים רווחים יותר. בקהילות של הישראלים והיהודים באזורי טורונטו ומונטריאול קיבלו את הפסקת הטיסות הישירות של אל על מישראל לקנדה ובחזרה, בתדהמה ובכעס רב
בשנת אלפיים עשרים ושלוש הטיסה אייר קנדה כמאה ותשעים אלף נוסעים בקווים בין טורונטו ומונטריאול לתל אביב. שנה קודם לכן מספר הנוסעים בקווים אלה עמד על כמאה שבעים וחמישה אלף
במקביל הודיעה לאחרונה אייר קנדה כי היא מוסיפה קו חדש בין קנדה לפורטוגל, שיכלול טיסות בין מונטריאול לפורטו. הטיסות שיחלו בארבעה בחודש יוני, במשך ארבעה ימים בשבוע, ימשכו כל הקייץ ועד סוף חודש ספטמבר. באייר קנדה מאמינים שקוו חדש זה יהיה רווחי במהלך הקיץ של שנה זו. יצויין כי לאייר קנדה יש טיסות קבועות בין טורונטו לבירת פורטוגל – ליסבון, וכן בין מונטריאול לליסבון. קווים אלה הוכיחו את עצמם בשנה שעברה ולכן התווסף גם קו לפורטו
באייר קנדה קיימת אופטימיות בנוגע לטיסות לשווקים שונים באירופה כולל פורטוגל, תוך הוספת קווים חדשים והגדלת הקיבולת בקווים קיימים של החברה הקנדית. בנוסף לקו לפורטו אייר קנדה מתכננת להוסיף קווים חדשים גם לאיטליה וצ’כיה, בהם בין טורונטו לנאפולי, ובין טורונטו לפראג. מדובר בשלוש טיסות שבועיות שיחלו במהלך חודש מאי
לעומת זאת באייר קנדה נערכים לקיצוץ בטיסות שבין קנדה לארה”ב לאור מלחמת הסחר נגד קנדה עליה הכריז נשיא ארה”ב דונלד טראמפ. לא מעט קנדים התבטאו לאחרונה על רצונם להחרים את ארה”ב ובמסגרת זו, לא לרכוש עוד מוצרים אמריקאיים ולא לטוס לארה”ב
לאור הירידה המסתמנת בביקוש לטיסות בין קנדה לארה”ב, באייר קנדה נערכים לקצץ במספר הטיסות בין שתי המדינות השכנות. בין הקווים שעשויים להיפגע – באם הביקוש לטיסות לארה”ב יקטן – הם לאזורים “חמים” המיועדים לבילויים כמו פלורידה, לאס וגאס ואריזונה
בסקר אחרון שנערך הודיעו כחמישים ושישה אחוז מהקנדים כי הם מוכנים לבטל את הטיסות שלהם לארה”ב, או להימנע מלטוס לארה”ב. באם טראמפ יחריף בסנקציות נגד קנדה, אחוז הקנדים שיסרבו לטוס לארה”ב צפוי לגדול משמעותית
Tikun Olam Gogos’ O Canada! bags proclaim dedication to the ethic of improving the world in friendship with other nations, raising much-needed funds for grandmothers in sub-Saharan Africa who are raising their grandchildren due to the HIV & AIDS pandemic. (photo from Tikun Olam Gogos)
As proud Canadians and fundraisers for the Stephen Lewis Foundation Grandmothers to Grandmothers Campaign, Tikun Olam Gogos have launched a special edition line of O Canada! tote bags – determined to respond to the threats American tariffs pose to Canada, and to the suspension of USAID, which is devastating to the Gogos’ partner organizations in Africa.
According to Stephen Lewis, “Lives will be lost. Our best contribution at this perilous moment is to attempt to replace the resources that America has expunged.”
Tikun Olam Gogos’ response to the White House is to raise more funds by intensifying its efforts to handcraft and market its O Canada! line of large tote bags, zippered and drawstring pouches.
Tikun Olam Gogos (TOG) is part of the Greater Vancouver Gogos, which includes about 20 Gogo groups across the Lower Mainland. Gogo is the Zulu word for “grandmother” and tikkun olam is Hebrew for “repair of the world.” TOG is a volunteer group of grandmothers and grand-others (non-members who help out the group periodically) in Vancouver that was founded in May 2011 and is sponsored by the Sisterhood of Temple Sholom. Its mission is to raise awareness, build solidarity and mobilize support in Canada for grandmothers in sub-Saharan Africa who are raising their grandchildren due to the HIV & AIDS pandemic.
In 14 years of operation, Tikun Olam Gogos has raised more than half a million dollars for the SLF Grandmothers to Grandmothers Campaign. With its partners in Africa reeling from the withdrawal of other international programs, TOG is more determined than ever to fulfil its motto: “we will not rest until they can rest.”
Priced at $50, just $5 more than TOG’s original signature totes, the O Canada! bags proclaim dedication to the ethic of improving the world in friendship with other nations. So, wear your maple leaf and your heart proudly on your O Canada! tote. You are telling the world “Canada cares.”
To order your O Canada! tote bags, zippered pouches and drawstring pouches, visit tikunolamgogos.org or call Joyce Cherry at 604-261-5454.
From 1925 to today, Na’amat volunteers across Canada and the United States continue to empower women and children in Israel and abroad. (photo from Na’amat Canada)
At a time when charities are fighting to survive, an organization that’s been helping women and children in Israel and North America is celebrating its 100th anniversary.
Na’amat Canada and Na’amat USA, which began as a North American chapter in 1925, will mark the centenary at a gala conference in Toronto in May with delegates from across Canada and the United States.
“It’s a huge deal. It’s a milestone,” said Vivian Reisler, executive vice-president of Na’amat Canada. “We’ve come a long way from Golda Meir sending a message that we need $100 to build X, Y, Z.”
The forerunner of Na’amat was founded in 1921, in what would later become the modern state of Israel, to empower women, including providing vocational training and advocating for improved working conditions and equal pay.
Four years later, a North American branch was born and Na’amat chapters were formed across Canada and the United States over the ensuing decades. Today, thousands of volunteers are continuing to empower women and children in Israel and abroad.
“The success of the organization is due to the dedication of the members, volunteers and donors – because, without them, we wouldn’t be where we are today,” said Reisler.
Na’amat Canada president Susan Inhaber, a member of the organization for 25 years, agrees.
“We just want to keep building, get our name out there, build the membership and thank all the donors, supporters and members who are making everything possible,” she said. “This is an exciting time for us to be together. It’s nice that we have an organization that’s lasted so long.”
While the North American branch of Na’amat (a Hebrew acronym for “Movement of Working Women and Volunteers”) began in 1925, Na’amat Canada and Na’amat USA became two autonomous divisions in 1965.
“We were together, we split, and now we’re back together (informally, at the Toronto conference) celebrating 100 years,” said Reisler.
Na’amat is the largest women’s organization in Israel. It provides a wide variety of services, including a daycare network for thousands of children, legal aid centres, technological high schools for students who have trouble succeeding in other classroom settings, boardingschools for underprivileged students, and the Na’amat Canada Glickman Centre for Family Violence Prevention.
Na’amat Canada members at the Glickman Centre for Family Violence Prevention. (photo from Na’amat Canada)
Established in 1993 in Tel Aviv, the Glickman Centre was the first women’s shelter in Israel. It has three distinct sections: the shelter, a counseling and treatment area, and the Rhodie Blanshay Benaroch Children’s Centre wing, a haven for children living in the shelter.
The Rhodie Blanshay Benaroch Children’s Centre houses a computer room, baby nursery, kindergarten, audiovisual education corner, library, learning centre and outdoor playground, named in honour of Rhodie’s granddaughter, Rho Schneiderman. A musical playground was built in honour of Rhodie’s two granddaughters. Blanshay Benaroch was a dynamic third-generation Na’amat member who was committed to building a safe, loving environment for children who needed it most.
Recently, Na’amat Canada was instrumental in building a new middle school at Kanot Youth Village. More than 300 students will now have a state-of-the-art school to enhance their education.
In the aftermath of the Israel-Hamas war, Israel needs Na’amat’s help as much – or even more – than it did a century ago, said Doris Wexler-Charow, past national president of Na’amat Canada.
“I think that Oct. 7 changed everything,” she said of the deadliest attack against Jews since the Holocaust.
Everyone in Israel is suffering from PTSD, said Wexler-Charow, a retired social worker. “Everybody’s been traumatized,” she said,explaining that Na’amat is providing more counseling services than ever. “Israel needs us. It’s important for us to keep going. The cause is a good one and I think we need our young people to continue where we leave off.”
With Air Canada’s announcement of the resumption of flights from Toronto and Montreal to Tel Aviv, it will be much faster for Canadians to fly to Israel. But will it be cheaper?
The Canadian national carrier is set to resume its routes to Tel Aviv on June 8 with four weekly flights between Pearson International Airport and Ben-Gurion Airport. From August, it will fly from YUL Montréal-Trudeau International Airport once weekly.
Since 2022, when El Al Israel Airlines halted its flights to Canada, there have been no direct flights between Toronto or Montreal and Tel Aviv. Air Canada suspended its Israel operations following Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, terror attack on Israel. It resumed services just before the Iranian missile attack on Israel on April 13, 2024, then again suspended flights, repeatedly extending the suspension, until announcing that flights would not be resumed until further notice.
“We are looking forward to booking direct non-stop flights from Toronto and Montreal again,” said Toby Soil of Toronto’s Peerless Travel. “During these very difficult times, we were booking flights from New York with El Al, which did an excellent job, or booking flights with Air Canada, El Al and other European airlines through Europe with a stop-over.”
Air Canada has undertaken an extensive safety analysis, which will continue leading up to and after June 8, said Soil. The airline will continue to monitor the situation in the region and adjust its schedule accordingly, including future service increases as warranted. Prices will depend on availability, class of service and season, she explained.
Other North American carriers that have announced they are resuming flying on the Tel Aviv-New York route include United Airlines, which scheduled flights beginning on March 15, and Delta Airlines, on April 1. Delta had ceased flying to Israel at the end of July 2024.
Air India resumed its long-haul flight services from Delhi and Mumbai to Tel Aviv on March 2. Similarly, China’s Hainan Airlines will resume twice weekly direct flights between Tel Aviv and Beijing starting April 10.
European airlines that have recently announced the resumption of flights to and from Israel include Air France, which resumed flying to Ben-Gurion Airport on Jan. 25; Iberia, which will start on April 1; Air Baltic, on April 2; and KLM and EasyJet both beginning on June 1.
By the summer peak season, three North American airlines will be operating flights to Israel after months in which only El Al scheduled direct flights between Tel Aviv and New York. That near-monopoly allowed El Al to raise its fares. Last November, the airline posted record quarterly profit and revenue. The Israeli airline drew criticism from customers in Israel and abroad for alleged price-gouging.
David J. Rotfleisch is a Toronto lawyer who made aliyah two-and-a-half years ago and now lives in Jerusalem, but commutes regularly to Canada.
“In October 2022, the month after I made aliyah, El Al stopped flying directly to Tel Aviv from Canada,” he said. “That left Air Canada as the only option for a direct flight. Post-October 2023, Air Canada canceled its flights, meaning there was no way to fly directly to Israel from Canada, which I need to do, both because my law office is in Toronto and to visit friends and family.
“Now, with the resumption of the Air Canada flights, a direct 12-hour return flight for the holidays, leaving in September and returning in October, is around $2,300 Cdn in basic economy. Flying Polish LOT Airlines via Warsaw will cost about $1,600 Cdn return in basic economy and will take 19 hours or longer depending on the connections.”
Last September, Rotfleisch was forced to fly Ethiopian Airlines to Addis Ababa to reach Israel for Rosh Hashanah.
With high demand and limited capacity, travel experts don’t forecast a fall in prices during the Passover holiday or summer season.
“Services by foreign airlines are going to gradually grow and we are going to gradually see prices come down, but they are not going to be down dramatically for Passover or the August period, when most Israelis are looking to book vacations with their families,” Yaneev Lanis, co-founder of online booking site Secret Flights, told the Times of Israel. “Passover period is always an expensive period to travel, and especially this year, when there is still going to be less supply than usual.”
He said, “Passover ticket prices are going to be higher, and I wouldn’t expect prices to drop, as demand will be very high and foreign airlines are planning to come back in a low capacity, which means that they will easily be able to fill up their planes and there is no reason for them to reduce prices.”
Overall, ticket prices to and from Israel have more than doubled at times since the Gaza War broke out on Oct. 7, 2023.
Gil Zohar is a writer and tour guide in Jerusalem.
Volunteers with Sar-El in Israel last March. (photo from Marina Sonkina)
Last year, about this time, I was in Israel, volunteering with Sar-El, an organization that connects the Israel Defence Forces with volunteers from more than 30 countries, who provide the army with non-combat support. So many others had wanted to help after Oct. 7 that I had to wait several months for my documents to be processed.
The mood was understandably sombre. Not just the trauma of the Hamas terror attacks, with hostages captive, but also the antisemitism that engulfed the Western world like fire.
I asked some of my fellow volunteers why they had come to Israel during such a dangerous time. The answers I got, especially from non-Jews, both surprised and comforted me. A Christian volunteer from Detroit wanted Israel to know that it did not stand alone. A middle-aged Australian had been sponsored by her church in Sydney to help people of the Holy Land under an attack. Two Romanian girls didn’t speak a word of Hebrew or English, but answered me in Italian: “Aiuto” (“Help”).
“I had a very good life. I had a chance to travel all over the world. But, until now, I’ve been traveling horizontally,” a Parisian Jew of Algerian descent told me. “Now, it’s time to travel vertically,” she said, raising her eyes to the sky. “This land is sacred. I feel it here like nowhere else. And now it’s in peril.”
In spite of rockets being fired into Israel from Lebanon, Gaza and Yemen, the volunteers felt more protected in Israel than they did back home. Many felt relieved that, finally, there was no need to conceal one’s true feelings or to hide one’s Jewishness.
“I don’t feel safe in the US anymore,” said a New York lawyer who had been attacked from behind in the streets of Manhattan, his yarmulke yanked off his head.
A German woman from Munich was on her 10th visit to Israel. “I’m not Jewish, and I can’t explain it,” she said. “All I know is that I love people here. Love their warmth. Chaos? Yes! They talk loud, they are emotional, but I don’t mind that. I plan to spend half a year here once I retire.”
Initially, I wasn’t sure how we, civilians, could help the IDF fight Hamas in Gaza, but my first day at the medical military base near Tel Aviv made it clear. Hundreds of different medications and medical devices that had come from warehouses across the country had to be sorted out, their expiration dates checked. Those who accuse Israel of racism should see these medicines, each labeled in four languages: Hebrew, Arabic, English and Russian. (Thanks to Soviet antisemitism and, lately, to Putin’s war on Ukraine, 15% of Israel’s population comes from Russia.)
On the military base, I saw clearly what is best in Israel: its people. The IDF mirrors the diversity and inclusiveness of a society that, in its short history, has accepted refugees from more than 100 countries.
Without Moshe, for example, we would have had no idea how to sort the truckloads of medications arriving every day. Having come to Israel from Bukhara (in Central Asia) as a child, Moshe kibitzed in three languages, instructing us by means of his hands while talking on his cellphone. From his easy smile, I would never have guessed that his wife had recently died of cancer, that his two sons were fighting in Gaza and that, every day after his work with us, he went to a synagogue to pray. One morning, Moshe directed us to place boxes in long rows on the floor, in an unusual configuration. The next morning, a group of children with autism and down syndrome came to finish the sorting, also helping their people’s army.
Paul, a mathematician who came from France, was in charge of the military base’s math department. Ruth, who had made aliyah from the Netherlands as a teenager, was serving as one of the madrichot (female soldiers tasked with organizing and looking after Sar-El’s volunteers); after the army, she hoped to become a specialist in Japanese culture.
On another military base, about 20 kilometres from Gaza, in the Negev Desert, one of our tasks was to assemble care packages for soldiers spending Passover at the front, away from home. In two days, we filled 15,000 boxes with grape juice, matzah and other traditional items. Asoldier with a distinct Californian accent came to help us. He was a “lone soldier,” a soldier who has no family in Israel. Various families take turns welcoming lone soldiers for Shabbat, feeding them and giving them a sense of home.
The cover of a Haggadah that Sar-El volunteers inserted into thousands of Passover boxes that were sent to Israeli soldiers in Gaza. It shows the multicultural character of the Israel Defence Forces. (photo from Marina Sonkina)
Once, an officer joined us, helping make up the boxes, which was unusual, given his rank. Later, I saw him in the mess hall speaking in Hebrew to the base commander, who was originally from India. I found out that the officer was Druze. Living mainly in the country’s north, in the Galilee region, the Druze community enjoys all the civil rights of other Israelis, while maintaining their Arabic language and customs. Many Druze reach high echelons in the army, in medicine and other professions. When a Hezbollah rocket struck the Druze town of Majdal Shams, killing 12 children playing soccer, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu went there, addressing community members as “brothers and sisters.” He promised that Hezbollah would “pay a heavy price” for killing their children, and he kept his word.
When I think of the soldiers I met and talked to, one thing sets them apart from young people of their age in North America: a seriousness of purpose, and the burden of responsibility. They know that the survival of Israel lies on their shoulders. They also know that, while defending theircountry, they may not survive. Death lurks behind every corner in Gaza and Lebanon. It has hidden in an effigy of a child pleading, in Hebrew, for help, but booby-trapped with explosives. It was underground, in the tunnels, some going 50 kilometres deep. It disguised itself in doctors’ scrubs, inside Kamal Adwan Hospital in Gaza, which was appropriated by Hamas terror operatives.
Every fallen soldier is loved and mourned as one’s own child. Army service acts as a social glue in a country into which millions of refugees, speaking different languages, have poured. The IDF is still the backbone and pride of this society.
At a party for troops just returned from Gaza, I saw a religious Jew in a yarmulke (skullcap) and tzitzit (prayer shawl) hanging from under his uniform, with a baby girl in each arm and an automatic rifle dangling behind his back. I talked to a medic, a corporal who was more outspoken than many – a college history teacher in times of peace, he had three young children at home.
“Is there any possibility of peace between Palestinians and Jews?” I asked him.
“Before Oct. 7, I supported a two-state solution because I wanted peace, but the Palestinians do not want peace,” he responded. “We’ve tried it many times in the past. They want only one state, an Islamic Caliphate with Sharia rule. We, Jews, are in their way and they want us dead…. We have to fight – if we want to survive.”
“What about your children?” I asked. “Will they have to fight, too?”
“Yes, them, too,” he said. “They’ll be left with no other choice.”
I shook my head in distress but said nothing.
“Look,” said the man, “illusions cost us very dearly. We can’t afford them anymore.”
I remembered Golda Meir’s words, spoken in 1957: “Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us.”
There is a truce in Gaza now. But, while some 20,000 Hamas fighters have been eliminated, 10,000 armed fighters are still at large.
Marina Sonkinais a fiction writer, and teaches in the Liberal Arts Program 55+ at Simon Fraser University.
Cochin Jews at the 450th year celebration of the Paradesi synagogue, December 2017. (photo by Shalva Weil)
A study on the Purim traditions of the Cochin Jewish community by Prof. Shalva Weil of Hebrew University was published in the Journal of Modern Jewish Studies. It examines the historical and cultural significance of effigies in Purim celebrations among Cochin Jews, tracing their evolution from the 16th century to the modern day.
The Cochin Jewish community, numbering no more than 2,400 at its peak in 1948, lived in harmony with their Hindu, Christian and Muslim neighbours. Unlike other Jewish communities, they never experienced antisemitism in India, except during the Portuguese conquest of the 16th century. Their unique Purim celebrations featured role reversals that symbolically challenged societal hierarchies based on caste, religion and gender. This inversion of power structures was most vividly expressed through the construction and destruction of effigies representing adversaries, a practice embedded in the communal and ritualistic fabric of Cochin Jewry.
By the 20th century, Cochin Jews increasingly aligned themselves with the global Jewish community. Following the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948, the majority of Cochin Jews made aliyah by 1954, leaving behind only a small number of Paradesi and Malabar Jews scattered across the state of Kerala. The once-thriving Cochin Jewish community on the Malabar Coast is nearly extinct, and traditional Purim celebrations have all but disappeared. With only one Paradesi Jew remaining there and a handful in other former Cochin Jewish locations, synagogue services now rely on visiting Jewish tourists.
In stark contrast, in Israel, where an estimated 15,000 descendants of Cochin Jews now reside, Purim is celebrated in ways that reflect broader Jewish and Western cultural traditions. Children dress up as superheroes, soldiers and biblical figures; they participate in school parties and exchange hamantashen. Observant Jews continue to read the Book of Esther in synagogue and hold festive meals, incorporating their heritage into mainstream Jewish customs.
Weil, who has been awarded this year’s Yakir Yerushalayim honour as a distinguished citizen of Jerusalem due to her lifelong research into ethnicity and gender, highlights in her research the transition of Cochin Jewry from a localized, community-bound identity to an integrated and globalized Jewish experience. While their presence in India has nearly vanished, the legacy of Cochin Jews continues to thrive in Israel and beyond.
