A Trek to (Jewish) Tasmania

19th-Century Pioneers Built Jewish Life in Down Under Island

By Laura Kramer for The Jewish Daily Forward

Koala bears, kangaroos, blockbuster beaches, food festivals, mouthwatering honey and exceptional wine: customary expectations on a visit to Tasmania — but Jews? On Australia’s largest island, a triangular land of exotic woods and quaint cities, I encountered a history of remarkable Jewish life and the two oldest synagogues in Australia, each dating from 1845.

The 2003 book “A Few from Afar” chronicles the lives of a small number of Jews from Hobart, a city on the Australian island state, as they were absorbed into life in Tasmania. These Jews, originally from England, first built an unofficial “Temple House,” and later a synagogue next door and a small cemetery.

Picturesque Hobart, with its multicolored doorways and sandstone buildings, was founded as a penal colony in 1804. The city has an unusual Jewish past and lies at the crossroads of Dutch, French and British history. (It is also the birthplace of actor Errol Flynn.) This capital city — the second oldest in Australia — is on the southern rim of Tasmania, an island separated by the rolling waters of the Bass Strait, 155 miles from mainland Australia.

The synagogue on Argyle Street is a few minutes’ stroll from Hobart’s central business district and in walking distance of waterfront Salamanca Place, a bustling hub of unspoiled Georgian and Edwardian sandstone buildings bulging with cafes, restaurants and art galleries. The flyer on the synagogue door lists the times for the monthly egalitarian service and various holiday observances, and a phone number to organize a synagogue visit. It was Purim, and the gentleman who answered the phone and arranged to meet me invited me to his home for the reading of the Megillah. He promised excellent hamantaschen.

 Continue reading.

Making Amends

A mysterious request leads the Canadian-born son of a Holocaust survivor back to the old country.

By Robert Eli Rubinstein in Mosaic Magazine

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“Her name is Magda Zelenka,” replied my receptionist. “She says she has something important to discuss with you, but she doesn’t have an appointment.”

It took me a moment to recall Magda. Decades earlier, my late father Bill had hired her and her husband Ferenc as superintendents of an apartment building in the Toronto suburb of Etobicoke. Despite his own shattered life back in Hungary, my father was remarkably free of vindictiveness, hiring Germans, Austrians, Ukrainians, Croats—even Hungarians—as long as they were the best qualified candidates for a job.

The Zelenkas proved excellent employees: hard-working, courteous, beloved by tenants. After long years of service, Ferenc suffered a series of heart attacks followed by a fatal stroke. Although Magda hoped to continue managing the building on her own, the challenge had proved overwhelming. She was no youngster, and hardly in the best of health herself. Nor, in spite of her lengthy residence in Canada, had she ever really mastered the English language, which made it difficult for her to communicate. With deep regret, she submitted her resignation, asking only that she be allowed to rent an apartment in one of our buildings.

By then, my father had retired and I had come into the business. I agreed to her request without hesitation, assuming she would wish to remain in her old neighborhood among other expatriate Hungarians. To my surprise, she specifically asked for a building with a large number of Jewish residents, in a predominantly Jewish area.

And now, years later, here she was. Intrigued, I ushered her into my office and in the seldom-used language of my childhood asked after her health: “Hogy tetszik lenni?” Her eyes lit up as, in her habitually formal style of address, she prepared to answer.

“I am not doing very well, sorry to say. I just came home from a long stay at the Jewish hospital”—she meant Mount Sinai, in downtown Toronto—“where I had difficult surgery. I am only here today because the excellent Jewish doctors saved my life. I have always known that your people are not only talented and successful, but also kind-hearted. That is why I am here to see you.”

Your people—the compliment made me uncomfortable in a way she surely didn’t intend. I wondered whether I was overreacting. 

Continue reading.

Haaretz's 'What should you name your baby?' quiz

Buzzfeed is at it again. Solomon or Sigmund? Dharma or Deborah? Whether you’re expecting, trying or simply procrastinating, Haaretz helps you choose your child's Jewish, Hebrew or defiantly universalist name.
By Judd Yadid for Haaretz

 Take the quiz.

The Secret History of X & O

An Investigation Into the Religious Roots of the Symbols for Hugs & Kisses

By Nadine Epstein for Moment Magazine

I grew up in a family wary of anything overtly Christian. My father transformed the expression “cross your fingers” into “star your fingers” because, as he used to explain, crosses are Christian and thus not for Jews. Yet at the same time, my mother taught me to write “x” and “o”—a kiss and a hug—after my signature. So deeply embedded was this English-language tradition that I am sure it never crossed her mind—she was a proper Jewish mom as well as the executive director of the Jewish Community Center—that the “x” might have anything to do with a cross.

I never thought about it myself until she passed away in 2012 and I began to emit streams of “x’s” and “o’s” like a binary love code in the countless personal and professional emails that consume much of my daily life. Suddenly I became curious about where these symbols come from, these ur-emoticons that English speakers of all faiths sprinkle so liberally across our correspondence.

The Internet abounds with origin theories of all kinds. I found visual explanations: that “x” resembles a kiss; “o” looks like an embrace; and together “x” and “o” form a kiss on a face. Then there were auditory
associations such as the similarity in the pronunciation of “x” and “kiss.” But it very quickly became apparent that x most likely evolved from the written tradition. A simple, easily drawn shape, it entered the Western alphabet as the ancient Phoenician letter samekh for the consonant sound “s.” In early Hebrew it was the letter taw and makes an appearance in the Book of Ezekiel as a mark set “upon the foreheads” to distinguish the good men of Jerusalem from the bad.

When Christianity came along, it co-opted the “x.” “In Christian texts, one abbreviation of the Greek word Christos—meaning messiah—used the first two Greek letters of Christos, chi (X) and rho (P), combined into one shape,” says Stephen Goranson, a historian of religion at Duke University who studies the etymology of symbols and words. “So both orientations of crossed lines—X shape and the more-or-less lower case T shape—took on religious significance among Christians.” No one knows exactly how this happened: One story is that in 312 CE the Roman Emperor Constantine saw the chi-rho in a dream in which God told him “in this sign you will conquer.” Constantine went on to legalize Christianity, which later became the official religion of Rome.

Continue reading.

Kibbutz Culture Changes — and Kids Come Back

Good-Bye Collective Farms. Hello Community Living.

By Yermi Brenner for The Jewish Daily Forward

Ravid Brosh and Noa Tzur-Brosh woke up one morning in their peaceful suburban home in Rockville, Md., and found that after a long period of discussion, both had reached the same decision: to return to the kibbutz.

Not that life was bad — the couple had relocated to the United States from Israel five years earlier, and they were about to receive the much-coveted green card that would allow them to stay as permanent residents. He had a well-paying job, and she was studying photography. Both their children spoke English fluently; their daughter, Romy, excelled in a public school, their son, Ivri, in a Jewish kindergarten. They had a comfortable life, according to Tzur-Brosh.

But by 2008 they felt that the best place for them and for their children was Hatzor, the kibbutz where Tzur-Brosh, now 41, was born and raised.

The Brosh family’s personal decision is part of a wider trend. After years of decline or stagnation, the population of kibbutzim is now on the rise. In 2001 there were about 115,700 residents in 268 kibbutzim in Israel, according to the government’s Central Bureau of Statistics. Today there are 155,455 people living in kibbutzim. Seventy-five percent of this population growth has occurred since 2008.

Continue reading.

Chicken cartel driving up prices in Israel ahead of Passover

The price of fresh chicken has spiked 20% since the summer; supermarkets blame chicken farmers, slaughterhouses - and the law.

By Adi Dovrat-Meseritz and Ora Coren for Haaretz

By coordinating production levels and reducing supply, farmers and slaughterhouses have been steadily pushing up the price of chicken for the past year and a half, according to supermarket chains.

“The farmers and the slaughterhouses, which often own [the farms], are running a cartel, which drove up prices by dozens of percentage points," said a senior executive at a major grocery store chain. "We need more competition over such a basic product.”

The chicken farmers don’t deny it — Israeli antitrust law actually allows farmers to coordinate prices and behave as a cartel. The farmers say they are just trying to avoid selling at a loss and blame the supermarkets for raising prices at consumers’ expense.

The price of fresh chicken has increased 20% since June 2012, and chicken breast prices are up 25%, according to data from the Central Bureau of Statistics. Prices are expected to jump another 10% by Passover, in two weeks, say supermarket sources, which would mark an all-time high.

In the past 10 years — since March 2004 — the price of fresh chicken has increased 27%, and chicken breast is up 30%.

Grocery store chains say that for the past two months, the slaughterhouses have been gradually raising prices and intend to keep doing so until the holiday.

“Over the past two weeks, all the slaughterhouses we work with called and said they’re raising prices by 5%. So far, we’ve managed to stop them. But I think the closer we come to the holiday, and demand increases, we won’t be able to fight and prices will increase by about 10%,” said an executive at a midsized grocery store chain. “Currently, we’re paying 16 shekels per kilo. By the holiday, it’ll definitely be at least 18 shekels.”

Continue reading.

Israel: The Best Place to Live As a Woman in the Middle East

The Gender Gap Report 2013 has listed the best conditions for women to live in around the world, with Israel claiming the top spot throughout its region

By: Daniel Koren for ShalomLife

According to the Gender Gap Report 2013, Israel has been ranked the best country to live as a woman throughout the Middle East and North Africa region.

For almost a decade now, the World Economic Forum has put out its annual Global Gender Gap Report, looking to close the gender gap in four categories, and searching for those nations that strive to create equal rights for both males and females, and create conditions that promote pluralism and egalitarianism.

The four categories are economic participation and opportunity, educational attainment, health and survival and political Empowerment.

Israel ranked first for its region of the Middle East and North Africa, and 53rd overall in the Gap Report for 2013, moving up three sports since 2012.

For the fifth year in a row, Iceland claimed the top spot.

Colombia raised a remarkable 28 spots, earning the #35 spot.

110 countries are included in the Gender Gap Report, and over the past four years, 95 of them have consistently shown improvement, Israel included.

The report shows that women are receiving better opportunities in the workplace, as well as having better access to roles within the educational, social, and political realms.



For more Traditions news, check out our    page.