Costa del Sol

 


I spent this past weekend at the Costa del Sol with friends and family. This picture was taken Sunday night at sunset....it was an incredibly beautiful and peaceful moment.

More on Perla tomorrow..... 

Perla Meissner Part I: Early Years in Europe

Perla Meissner is the wife of Werner and the mother of Judith Meissner de Assif and Ronit Meissner de Naor (see earlier entries for more information on Judith, Ronit, and Werner). Perla Meissner (nee Schlomovitz) was born in the former Czech republic on February 11, 1926. This area of the country was called Karpato Russia and was considered both the least developed and the least progressive. A large population of observant Jews, many desperately poor, called this region home.

Perla's parents Yitta and Avram Schlomowitz brought their daughters into a large and religiously observant family. Perla had 15 uncles, 15 aunts, and 30 cousins. She is the eldest of three sisters; Rachel (called Ruchi) was three years younger while Elky was five years younger. When asked about her earliest memories she responded:

My earliest memory. My earliest memory would be (pause) my grandfather kind of teasing my mother, asking her how come she has red hair. He said my mother was blond and my father was threadbare, and how come she has red. She said, “Tati, she’s not red. That’s golden.” But I knew that she was kind of looking for an explanation for my hair not being completely red, because red was not appreciated at that time. There were all kinds of problems among red-haired people —most of them very bad. Most of them are angry. Most of them are not trusted. I have a saying in Hungarian you would not understand, but I’ll translate. (speaks in Hungarian) “A red dog, red horse, and a red person—none of them are good.”

Despite her red hair, Perla was an integral and loving member of her close family. The five stayed in the small Czechoslovakian town of Perla's birth until the family's economic situation forced them to migrate to Prague.

Life in Prague was a mixed bag. Adjusting to a new city and new classmates was both interesting and challenging to eight year-old Perla.

She remembers some of it:

I think I lived in a world of dreams. Reading and going to the movies, basically you don’t have to face reality. I probably didn’t like myself so much, hated going to school, hated seeing myself being a bad student. I don’t know. Ruchi, she was the one who kind of kept an eye on me. (chuckles) We were brought up—the rule was that you respect your elders, especially respect your parents. I would have never, never been disrespectful to my parents, never. But I lied. (laughs) And I remember, I was sent one Shabbat afternoon to visit a very respectful member of the Jewish community in Prague. She had a group of girls who came together and they were talking about Bible stories. I came from a background where they used onions. On Shabbat you had onion with eggs. My German was very, very Yiddish, and I knew it sounded terrible.

The Jews in Prague, the majority spoke German. But I came from a Yiddish-speaking country and had always spoken Yiddish, so it was Kongress-Yiddish. You know what they call Kongress-Deutsch? The first Zionist congress couldn’t decide what language are they were going to speak. The majority spoke Yiddish, and some spoke German, so they decided that Yiddish is going to be called Kongress-Deutsch. So I spoke Kongress-Deutsch. (chuckles) I knew they were kind of making fun of me. I heard one girl remark that you can feel the onion. I said to myself, “I’m not coming back.”

The following Shabbat we were sitting around the table having the Shabbat meal and Mami mentioned that I’m going to go to this shul and I said, “Mami, I’m not going.” She said, “What do you mean, you’re not going?” I said, “I’m not going.” So my father said, “Tell us why.” I didn’t want to hurt them. I didn’t want to— I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to give the reason.

You couldn’t tell my mother so often no. So she put one hand up and said, “You’re going.” I said, “Mami, I’m not going.” Then Ruchi got up and she said, “Nobody’s going.” I was three years older. I didn’t give in, and I never explained why not. I just said, “I told you I’m not going,” and never told them the reason. I didn’t want to shame them. It’s a funny thing, this memory that I keep, I see Ruchi protecting me. (laughs) And my parents desperate. They’d never seen such a thing. I couldn’t, couldn’t shame them. I always kept that in mind. If a child doesn’t say something, maybe it’s not because he wants to be disrespectful, maybe he’s trying to protect them [his parents]. Those are some of my memories.

Transcription by Sandy Adler, Adler Enterprises LLC

Community Elections: Then and Now

 


This photo was taken during the mid 1950s and is on loan from the Meissner family collection. Here we see various male members of the community gathering for the official inauguration of the new synagogue.

I have chosen to post this photo today because this evening at 6pm, the community will elect the new Board of Directors (Junta Directiva) for the year 2006-2007.

It is absolutely safe and exciting to say that the Comunidad Israelita de El Salvador is alive and well. 

Stories in Snapshots

Let's jog a few miles across the globe to Africa. Kenya, to be exact. Two young women, Karen Austrian and Emily Verellen, co-founded an incredible non-profit for young girls in the slum of Kibera. Kibera has a population of over 700,000 people where half of the population is under the age of 15. Kibera is the size of Manhattan's Central Park and is located within the Kenyan capital of Nairobi. Approximately 80% of Kibera's youth is unemployed and the US Center for Disease Control estimates that 20% of the population is HIV-positive.***

Under the umbrella of the organization Carolina for Kibera, Emily and Karen worked with a group of young women to create Binti Pamoja, (Daughters United in Swahili). Their website describes it best:

"Established in June 2002 by Emily Verellen and Karen Austrian, the Binti Pamoja Center uses photography, drama, writing, and group discussion to explore the issues that young women face in Kibera, such as violence against women, rape, prostitution, HIV/AIDS and other STDs, FC/FGM, poverty, sexual abuse, unequal access to education, lack of reproductive health care and information, and stifling domestic responsibilities. In addition, the Center hosts monthly speakers and field trips, a community drama group, a newsletter, community service projects, family events, and an HIV/AIDS peer education program."

I want to bring one of their very moving projects to your attention. The online photography exhibit demonstrates the power of the photograph as well as the ability for all individuals to relate to the still image. I use photographs in this oral history project as "accessories" to audio recordings but I do believe that photographs can be used in conjunction with oral history interviews when a scholar is studying the complexity of memory.

When conducting interviews, I quickly realized that early, early childhood memories are often the result of photographs....these moments (such as a three year old's birthday party) are forever captured on film and then constantly developed throughout the memory of the adult. The photographs may capture a difficult time, such as the last time one saw a living relative. Even so, it is common in this line of work to witness an individual's memory actively defending emotions by displacing a painful memory associated with the photograph with a more pleasant one. For example, this once painful picture of a final family reunion that resulted in a sad memory at age 21 could possibly morph into a positive lighthearted recall of a family celebration by age 75.

Photographs also provide strong support when breaking the ice with a nervous interviewee or when broaching a difficult subject. Binti Pamoja uses photographs to start conversations about taboo topics such as rape, STDs, abortion, sexual violence, teenage pregnancy, sexual abuse, and more.

Karen and Emily provided each girl with a disposable camera, taught them how to use the camera, and then sent the group into their communities to take photographs corresponding to a weekly theme. One week was pregnancy, another AIDS, etc. What you see online are photos taken by the Binti Pamoja group (oftentimes their first experience with a camera). The girls then provide written commentary on the still photos describing the where and why of the picture. I encourage you to check out this powerful website and while viewing the images, please take the time to consider the power of the photograph when telling a story....or when remembering one.


Binti Pamoja Online Photo Exhibit:
http://cfk.unc.edu/binti-pamoja/exhibition/

Carolina for Kibera: http://cfk.unc.edu/cfk-inc.html


*** as cited on http://cfk.unc.edu/kibera.html

Werner Meissner Part V: Onward to El Salvador

 


After settling into his small cell, Werner realized that its doors were never closed. Although the group was locked in a prison, their respective cell doors were kept open for all to have free movement. Werner quickly decided to work in the forge and soon the prisoners had opened various workshops in the camp including areas for tailoring, carpentry, baking, and cooking. In the beginning, Werner's group in the forge did some work for the camp and under the supervision of a Mauritian native, they moved on to fixing suitcases , making sheet metal covers for the heels of shoes and other odd jobs. The latter two helped Werner to make a little extra money but honestly, it did not really matter how much they made. No one had an abundance of anything at this point....much less cash.

Soon, money from abroad started reaching the camp. Werner began taking Hebrew lessons while others prepared lectures, plays, and various interest groups. After numerous attempts to get in touch with the outside world, the group finally received word from the Jewish community in South Africa. That community sent aid in the form of books, medicine, journals as well as moral support.

Werner remembers; "It was the first ray of hope."

Life in the camp became routine and soon the group had written "PW" (Prisoners of War) on the roof of each prison building. A group of 80 young Czech men organized themselves (with the knowledge of camp administrators) with the aim of becoming volunteers in the Czech army. Werner was one of these men and together, they trained and marched within camp walls. The camp police even escorted the group to train near the beach. In 1942, the group finally left Mauritius for Durban, South Africa. Upon arriving, they were given military uniforms but were told they were not soldiers yet. Nevertheless, the men were thrilled to be away from the prison and quickly made contact with the Jewish community in Durban, reporting the true circumstances surrounding their detainment in Mauritius.

Soon, the group was transferred to Sidibischr near Alexandria, Egypt. Since Werner had previous training, he was sent within weeks to Palestine for combat duty. Within a short amount of time, he was assigned to an anti-aircraft canon position between Yochnean and Tiron. His job was to protect a refinery near Haifa from missle fire. According to his written memoirs, this was a somewhat monotonous job so when volunteers were solicited for duty in England, Werner was eager. Along with 15 others from the Mauritius group, Werner departed by train south to the Suez Canal. Eight men deserted at the train station in Gedera which produced an embarrassing situation for those remaining. Anti-semitic remarks rang in their ears for the weeks to come. Despite the tense situation, the men boarded ship for England.

Werner joined the 310th fighter's squadron and was sent to the unit immediately. A short time later, he was assigned to a mechanic's course for three months--an experience which would serve him well later on in Salvador. Despite the distraction, the fate of his family weighed heavily on Werner. Only in August 1945, one day before his departure to Prague with the rest of his unit did Werner receive a telegram stating that Erich and his parents were being sent to Prague from Siberia (where they had spent the war). The family met in Prague but quickly learned the fate of brother Kurt and the rest of the family.

After locating a stable housing situation for their parents, Werner and Erich began working in a local factory. Their mother Lotte had written her cousin Herta Freund in El Salvador, updating everyone on the family's status. The Freunds responded quickly with an invitation for the boys to travel to El Salvador. There the cousins would help the boys get settled and find employment. Erich and Werner accepted the offer "without a moment's hesitation."

In April 1948, the brothers crossed the Czech border and in May of that same year year, they arrived in El Salvador. Their ship was approached by a motorboat out of which a young man wearing a white shirt introduced himself as Ernesto Freund.

He looked at the passengers and asked; "Now which two of you are my cousins?"



Photo: From the Meissner family collection. Erich and Werner on the ship to El Salvador in 1948. 

A weekend at the volcano

 


I spent a part of this weekend visiting friends who live on the San Salvador volcano. From their home, one can see the entire city of San Salvador in the distance and sometimes (when the clouds cooperate) all the way to the ocean. An incredibly beautiful experience, I hope you'll enjoy today's photograph. Since we are just now finishing the rainy season, the daily fog still persists. I like this picture because of the dichotomy produced by the lush plants and foggy backdrop, giving you an idea of the sweet mystery that exists on the volcano.

More on Werner Meissner tomorrow. I promise. 

Werner Meissner Part IV: A Final Destination?

The land in the distance was Limasol, Cyprus. The group was exhausted but relieved to have finally reached a port. The British now supervised the transport and kept the ship in Limasol for eleven days. Local police guarded the ship and all aboard were treated fairly. The transport then pooled together funds, jewelry, and other valuables to pay for a fresh supply of food and coal. On November 23rd, the ship drove with high speed towards Haifa, escorted by a British destroyer.

The morning of November 24th, the transport awoke to the beautiful site of Mt. Carmel.

Werner remembers that moment; "In joyful excitement, happy, with beating hearts and tears in our eyes, we finally saw our goal, full of hope and expectation."

The ship remained in the bay and soon Palestinian policemen and officers came aboard to inspect the incoming refugees. The group learned from these officers that they would be quarantined for some time on another ship named the Patria. This was new protocol as 4,000 illegal refugees had arrived some days beforehand.

In the morning, a small group from the transport was taken to the Patria. Werner watched those being moved by small boat and suddenly witnessed an enormous explosion in the distance. The Patria capsized within moments and suddenly people were swimming in the water and sliding off the ship.

The vessel sank within minutes.

Those who were in small boats on the way to the Patria turned back. It was learned later that a total of 200 lives were lost in the explosion. Survivors from the ship were taken inland to a camp in Atlit while Werner and other bachelors were taken to a separate camp and then eventually to Atlit to join the others. Instead of putting all of the refugees together, those from the Patria were kept on one side of a barbed wire fence while Werner's group was contained on the opposite side. Rumors began to spread and the group soon learned that they would leave Israel the next morning.

"For where?" they asked.

"A nice place." the officers responded.

The group of bachelors decided to resist by sleeping naked. The order was then disseminated throughout the camp. One older gentlemen from Danzig, a religious man who wore tzizit and kippah, approached those leading the resistance. He asked permission to sleep in his underwear and tzizit. Needless to say, all agreed this was a reasonable request.

In the morning, the first and second wave of British officers ordered the group to get up and exit their huts; the men remained on the floor and refused. The third wave of police barked the same orders but this time entered the huts and knocked over the beds. All stood up and ran outside, leaving everything (including clothes) behind. The group was then taken to the port of Haifa where they were loaded onto their new ship, the Johann de Witt. Werner's group was sent to the deepest storeroom which was hot and without ventilation.

"The shock of the expulsion and the feeling of powerlessness....affected us all the more." Within days, the ship was passing through the Suez Canal.

Seventeen days later, the Johann de Witt arrived in Port Louis, Mauritius, an island off the coast of Africa.

On December 28th, 1940, all passengers were unloaded and taken inland by bus where each was assigned with new living spaces--a cell with a small window.

Werner Meissner Part III: At Sea

The ship was to hold the 300 individuals from Prague, a large group from Vienna, and another from Danzig. Together, they were 1500 people; those from Prague would not receive a warm reception. The transport from Danzig became very wary of their new shipmates as the ship was obviously too small to hold the newly inflated number of people. The ship, with a swastika flag, navigated down to the Danube until it reached Tuzeha. This trip took approximately one week and by the end of the first leg, the group was much better organized and the Danzigers started coming around.

Werner's kvuzah (group) belonged to the Haganah (shipguards/police) and all were responsible for keeping order. Werner remembers; "with good words, a lot of tact, and demonstrating a good example, we succeeded.....and acquired the trust of these people."

Upon their arrival in Tuzeha, the group was transferred to a freight ship. Upon entering the ship, Werner was "horrified" by the conditions. The ship's hold (where all were supposed to sleep) was without ventilation and the sanitary conditions were even worse.

Werner writes, "At the end of the ship, a row of toilets were built which were outside the realm of the ship, above the sea. The number was totally insufficient; the place was unhygenic and often the scene of quarrels since one had to stand in row often for almost one hour until it was your turn. Places to wash were provisional. There were barrels with sea water and everybody washed himself as well as he could."

They would be on this ship for two months.

The group was near Istanbul on erev Yom Kippur and people prayed in different sections of the ship. The Jewish community in Istanbul sent a big ration of bread and other food for the holidays.

"This gesture of solidarity heightened the mood of everybody."

The ship would then move through the Greek Islands, anchoring in Lesbos, Samos, Dios, and Heraklion (Crete). Unfortunately, the Danzig and Viennese groups were not vaccinated against typhus before the departure and in spite of many precautions, the disease broke out. Many fell victim and were buried at sea. Werner caught a high fever at one point and lay in the sick section for days. Since the ship was in port at that time, the dead could not be thrown into the water. Therefore, a coffin was placed in front of the cabin where Werner was trying to recuperate.

"Not an encouraging view," he would later remember.

The ship left Crete on Werners' birthday, November 8th, 1940 with a healthy supply of food and coal. In the meantime, the group received word that the Italian-Greek war had started. No one thought it would interfere with the journey but they were in for a surprise. The captain, a Greek, and his mainly Greek crew panicked when alerted about the war. From one moment to the next, the captain explained that he could not move on since there was no coal. But they had only left Crete the day before? Turns out, this captain had spent most of the previous evening burning the ship's supply of coal, in essence sabotaging the journey. The Haganah jumped into action and first locked the captain in his cabin, guarding it day and night. Next, the transport's management met in order to discuss next steps and those within the group included a few engineers, navigators, and others who could assist. Soon, this volunteer group was directing the ship themselves with the goal of reaching Cyprus.

The next four days would be the most dangerous and exhilirating days of the journey. Soon, they would find out that the cauldron which lacked coal did not produce sufficient steam pressure. For two or three hours, the ship drove slowly and calmly into the sea without steam pressure but soon the waves began throwing the ship around like a beachball. Somehow they managed for two days.

One major problem--they finished the rest of their coal.

From there, Werner joined the others and pulled off the masts, wood paneling, and plank beds in order to use them for fuel. Werner writes, "I myself laid in the coal bunker for 24 hours and searched with my fingers for every small piece of coal."

Then on November 12th, they spotted land.

Werner Meissner Part II: Leaving Europe

Werner ended his obligatory military service in the Czechoslovakian Army in 1938. In 1939, he witnessed the entrance of German troops into Prague. The future looked grim and Werner soon joined an illegal transport to Palestine.

In order to prepare for the transport, he enrolled in a Hahalutz and was ready to enter a Hachshara. This was a camp of sorts, preparing young people both emotionally and physically for their new lives in what was then Palestine. Werner was assigned to a small camp in Shipsko and he drove there in April of 1939. At the camp, he met seven individuals, his new "haverim" which included one married couple, five young men and one young woman. Everyday, the group rose early to clean the cowshed and then ate together at 7:30am. After breakfast, a ranger led the group to a nearby forest equipped with axes, rakes, shovels, saws and ropes. After arriving at their destination, the forester picked three trees that were to be chopped that same day.

Werner remembers this time as almost idyllic: "The silence of the forest, the marvelous air, and nature. We hardly knew what happened in the world around us."

Around September of the same year, the group was called to Prague to join an illegal transport. First, a personal call to the German emigration office was necessary but luckily the visit went without incident. Then Werner went shopping....a rucksack would be filled with boots, some underwear, a blanket, and other small items. Werner tried to convince his brother Kurt to join the transport but Kurt wanted to finish medical school. Unfortunately, he would not succeed.

The Czech universities were soon closed and Kurt also did not want to leave behind his quasi-fiance in Bilitz. Later, he joined a "Hachshara" in a failed effort to join an illegal transport to Palestine. Eventually, he ended up spending time in Prague and then Theresienstadt. His group was then sent to Auschwitz and Kurt was selected to be the pediatrician of a children's transport that the Germans were preparing to send to Switzerland in exchange for a few lorries. The negotiations failed in the last moment and the entire group of children (including their adult chaperones and their Doctor Kurt) was sent to the gas chambers.

The Meissner family would learn Kurt's story after the war.

Werner left Prague with his group from the Hachshara in November of 1939 and quickly arrived in Bratislava. Along with 300 others, all disembarked the ship and were housed in a shelter originally established for the homeless. The men slept in a big hall while the women were housed on the third floor. There were not enough toilets and washing facilities for the group; the entire transport was guarded by some kind of military police. The manager of the transport paid for these accomodations and the Jewish community of Bratislava also helped enormously. The group received board from a nearby Jewish restaurant and Werner spent quite a bit of time in its kitchen (anything to get out of the shelter).

Life in the camp was monotonous yet the group organized courses (in subjects such as Hebrew and literature), performances and lectures in order to fill up the empty days. Volleyball teams were formed and tournaments established. The group did not lack creative, educated souls.

In the meantime, the Danube was frozen and leaving Bratislava was out of the question. Then came spring and summer and still no movement. The group quickly grew anxious. The Slovak authorities threatened to send the group back to Germany and thanks to a pooling of funds, the group avoided this return trip which would have resulted in their immediate deportation to concentration camps.

Thanks to Werner and the help of a few others, the small group from the Hachshara was given permission to leave the camp to work in the fields.

"Our delight lasted only ten days and we were called back since the transport was to leave Bratislava with an unknown destination--in all probability to Auschwitz. But it was a false alarm."

It became August.

Finally on September 13th, 1940 the group was brought to the river where two ships of a Danube steamship cast anchor.

Photo: From Meissner family collection. Erich and Werner Meissner with their parents. Prague. 

Werner Meissner Part I: Experiences in Europe until 1936

 

Werner Meissner has written the story of his life and gave me a copy when I visited with him in Haifa only a month ago.

It begins like this:
"Like so many Jewish families which survived the war, which means from the year 1945, all three generations which exist in our family were born on a different continent. This stands in big contradiction to Jewish tradition until the Second World War that families often lived and worked for many centuries in the same place, in the same kehilah.

We, Perla [his wife] and I were born in Europe, in [what was then] Czechoslovakia; Judith and Ronit were born in tropical El Salvador and our grandchildren are citizens of Jerusalem which we desired for so longingly in all prayers and which is today the capital of the free Jewish state."

Werner's story begins in Trisch, a town near Moravia. As delineated in his memoir, the Jewish community of Trisch dates back to the 15th century. He was one of four sons, Kurt (born in 1913), Werner (born in 1914), Berthold (born in 1917), and Erich (born in 1922). The older three were born in Trisch while Erich was born in Bilitz, the town where the Meissners eventually settled.

Today only Erich and Werner remain. Berthold died from dysentery as a young child while Kurt was murdered at Auschwitz.

Before the war, the Meissner family had a very full life with religion structuring many of their activities. Werner remembers: "My parent's house was a traditional Jewish home. Family, respect for the parents, education, self-respect, fulfilling duties were all goals of our education..... In the house, we always kept our own traditions for example, we did not drive on the Sabbath. Furthermore, Dad did not smoke on this day, but went to work by foot. Usually he drove to work. We did not write in the school [on Shabbat] until the last school year. On Saturdays, we had training on the sports ground. We went by foot but we did train. We kept all the holidays, of course and since I was singing in the temple's choir, I got there punctually every Friday evening and Saturday. In the winter, when it got dark early, the Sabbath entered already at 4 o'clock. Even so, Dad came home from work later and would recite the whole evening prayer before the meal. We had a very nice temple with a very nice service. The atmosphere on the holidays in the house is part of my youth's memories."

At age 14, Werner joined the Hasmoneans, a Zionist High School Union. Set-up like a youth group, the members learned Jewish history, Zionist philosophy, played sports and took trips.

Werner writes, "The whole Union was secret of course. The school should not know. Therefore it became even more interesting."

After high school, Werner decided to learn more about Bilitz's textile industry. After a year apprenticeship, Werner applied for a graduate course to continue his study of textiles. In 1934, he began his studies in Bruenn. Werner lived with a roommate in a boarding house and visited his brother Kurt in medical school (also in Bruenn) on the weekends. That same year, Werner was summoned for military service by the Czech consulate. During the medical examination, he was deemed unfit due to a hernia. Only one year later, Werner received a notice from the Czech military that his status was now being upgraded from "unfit" to "fit with fracture."

Werner began his military service for the Czech republic on September 1, 1936.

Photo: from Meissner family collection. Werner as a Czech soldier. Circa 1936.  

A Monday after a Sunday at the Beach

My weekend was restful and exciting. Saturday was filled with reading and in the evening, Heike Brodersen and her husband Ernesto took me to Los Planes to have some authentic pupusas in La Pupuseria Katy. Afterwards we went to "Pupusa Row" to check out a great view of San Salvador and see the nightlife action on top of the mountain. There was one band playing that I would have loved to take home with me.

Sunday was a glorious day at the beach house of the Cohen family. I got some sun (baruch hashem) and even some redness to prove it! We ate and ate and I stayed hydrated with a variety of liquids although I never did get to try the ritualistic Campari with soda that everyone else swears by. Maybe another weekend?

Backyard

HAPPY 35th BIRTHDAY TO MY BIG BROTHERS, DANIEL AND RICHARD!!

Had to make that shout-out....So I just finished my first week. Last night, I went to break the Yom Kippur fast at the Freund family home. There, Lea Freund shared with me some incredible materials she herself created: the oral histories of important community members...some of whom are no longer with us. I am very excited to review them this weekend and hopefully tell you more next week.

This beautiful picture is my backyard....can you imagine? I try to write out here everyday and it is a consistently breathtaking view. The sun is out in full effect today and thanks to my awesome digital camera, I can share some of this with you.

I hope you all have a restful weekend wherever you may be. See you Monday.

mosquito legs and a sundrenched face

Last night my cousins told me that a trip to the beach should be a first stop. My casper-white skin desperately needs some color and I could not agree more.

Tomorrow, I am going to start a very serious search for a car. My dad's one and only stick shift lesson may indeed come in very handy....but still just keep your fingers crossed that I can find an affordable automatic.

This morning I woke up to find my legs completely covered in mosquito bites and red scratches. Apparently, I satisfy these itch-urges in my sleep. Any herbal/medicinal/drug remedies that people would like to impart? I don't know how long I can keep the length of my legs covered in this heat....but I rather not look like a chicken pox victim each and every day.

Today's entry will be brief....variety is good for the soul and I thought you might appreciate a shorter read.

And like we say on Yom Kippur....Hatima Tova....may each of you be inscribed in the book of life and may this year be the best one yet.

Kol Nidre

I am feeling very Jewish this evening. Ofcourse, tonight is one of the most important nights in the Jewish calendar, Kol Nidre and tomorrow is the most serious holiday, Yom Kippur.

It is interesting because this whole project brings Judaism and Jews to mind atleast every hour of every day. If I am not talking about what I'm doing, I am explaining it or I am interviewing someone or I am thinking of a blog entry or creating a blog entry or updating someone on the latest developments. Never before have I thought about Judaism and/or Jews so consistently for such an extended amount of time.

I am not a religious person. You may wonder: "then how can she feel very Jewish?" No it is not just Yom Kippur and no I am not having some incredible epiphany and no mamita, I am not becoming religious! For me being Jewish has been and always will be about culture and preservation of self and family. As a child, it was not easy being the Jewish minority in a bible belt state. I did not really have Jewish friends my age until I moved to New York and started college. For a young adolescent in the throes of self-discovery, waivering self-esteem, and the world of peer pressure, I did not really appreciate being a "token" anything. As much as I wanted to believe what my parents told me, I could not come to understand why it was "good to be different."

When I moved to NY, suddenly I was one of many. People did not really care that I was Jewish...it was almost a given. I hit the other extreme of religious identity--"blending in," and for the first time, my comfort zone became the cushion of anonymity. Those years passed and so did my need to surround myself with people of similar backgrounds. My interest in those different from me blossomed naturally and soon I was back to living as a "token" something. Instead of making my life difficult, my new situation felt eerily familiar. For me, living in a community of diversity enabled me to constantly re-examine and re-define my values, interests, affiliations, likes, dislikes.

Attending services this evening at the synagogue of my mother and my grandparents was more emotional than anything else. I could not stop thinking about my small family....and how important it was for me to be in this building at this time and on this very important day. While being Jewish in NY made me feel like one of many, being Jewish in El Salvador made my family story truly real and absolutely alive.

Most importantly, my comfort zones collided. I was one of a larger group of Jews, many with similar trans-atlantic histories. Even so, at the end of the service, I filed out with the crowd and together we reentered the world as minorities in a Catholic, Latin American country.

And like I said earlier....the whole thing made me feel very, very, very Jewish.

First day in

Today was pretty incredible. I was totally taken care of by my Tia Yolanda, cousin Sandy, and my mother's close friends Dieter and Erika Brodersen. This is the intoxicating part of Salvador...the ease with which people give of themselves. For me, it will forever be something I notice,love, and appreciate.

You all may not realize this...but I am only half done with my interviews in Israel. I have practically the entire Meissner family to tell you about-- not too mention one Bymel. And boy are these fantastic stories--all of them. The majority of these interviews have only a little to do with El Salvador but even so the individual's experience in the Jewish community colors the rest of his/her life.

Let's get back to Israel with Judith Meissner Assif, the mother of the three young men I described in an earlier posting (Ronen, Jonathan, and Gabi), the wife of Dani Assif, the sister of Ronit, and the daughter of Werner and Perla Meissner.

Judith and I started communicating via email about two weeks prior to my departure for Israel. She instantly broke down any imaginary barriers that could have/would have existed by informing me that she was very open to help me in any way possible. I did not hold back and asked for her advice on getting in touch with people, where to stay in Jerusalem, etc. She in turn told me about a reception at the Salvadoran Embassy in Jerusalem which was to take place during our visit.

Upon arriving from the airport, I called Judith for the first time. Not knowing what to expect, I assumed that the only woman answering the phone had to be her (considering the male bastion that is her home). Her voice was soft yet strong....the perfect blend of the Spanish/Hebrew/"American School" English that I have come to recognize. She invited us to Shabbat dinner and Shabbat lunch (it truly was an Assif weekend) and we eventually scheduled our interview to take place Saturday afternoon.

Tall, slender, with striking eyes and blond hair...Judith can truly command a room. She is the type of woman whose strength one admires and envies all at the same time. Judith knows who she is and where she wants to be....and this I knew before we even sat down. When preparing her consent form, I innocently filled out the necessary blank spaces with "Judith Assif." The Barnard woman in me hesitated and considered adding her maiden name but then thought otherwise. As she was reading the text she smiled, asking me to rewrite her name in its complete and full form; "I am definitely more Meissner than Assif," she laughed.

Judith's early years in Salvador were a blend of family, youth group, friends, school, and play. Her oral history provides beautiful detail and Judith remembers events very clearly. In the beginning, she would preface her statements with a bit of mixed emotion...."Can I just tell you the truth....ego and expectations aside?"

I loved the beautifully raw honesty of her interview. The deeply emotional way in which she remembered the births of her children and the playfulness with which she tells the story of meeting her husband create a glorious narrative while her respect for family and unwavering dedication to the State of Israel interweaves global perspective with a controlled, thoughtful optimism. Judith is someone who grew up in Salvador and someone who appreciated it. Even so, she did not live in the country as if it were hers. She knew Israel was her destiny but would not hesitate to tell any listener about her daily anxieties nor would she deny that she worries for her sons in the army.

Towards the end of our time together, Judith told me about the first time she heard her mother's Holocaust testimony. Enlisted in the army and responsible for planning a last-minute Holocaust Rememberance ceremony for a group of soldiers, Judith was in a serious bind. Due to extreme time restraints, the group of survivors who usually spoke at such gatherings were committed elsewhere and she was desperate. Knowing that her mother had experienced the horrors of Auschwitz but having never heard the complete story herself, she asked her mother to step forward....not only to fill in this very physical void but also because, as Judith remembers telling Perla on the phone; "Mami-- It's time."

Judith and Ronit sat in the front row, not really knowing what the expect. They knew the story's outline and its chain of events but they never realized the extent of horror that their mother experienced firsthand.

Judith's retelling of this story was an obviously emotional section of our interview yet in the end, it was her renewed optimism that sweetly ended our conversation. "My mother showed such strength that day and when I think about the beautiful childhood she gave us despite the horrors she experienced...I am amazed. I only hope that I can be equally strong for my children."

As I watched the Assif boys embrace their mother, I think we can all agree that Judith is doing just that.

Arrived

The plane was completed packed and I mean p-a-c-k-e-d. I had not slept very well the past few nights so a few minutes after takeoff, I was out. I woke up a few times but really snapped out of it when I heard some gasps coming from the woman beside me.

We were flying over Salvador and the mudslides/disaster areas were pretty visible. As we descended towards the airport, the mud rivers became larger and larger. People craned their necks to get a view and I leaned back in my window-seat so the women beside me could check out the landscape. It was very intense even from that distance.

The flight was very smooth and I moved through immigration easily. Immigration asked me a few questions about my family (I checked off "OTHER" when indicating my purpose of travel) and upon learning that my mother was born and raised in El Salvador, the agent crossed out my "OTHER" and entered "RESIDENCE." I sort of liked that....made me feel less like the obvious gringa chelita that I am.

After determining that my luggage did not arrive with me, I stood in line to state my claim and of course to debate the fate of our maletas with fellow unlucky passengers. I found my cousin Sandy in the process and after she waited for me to finish waiting in line, we got through customs and hit the road.

The sun disguised the looming tragedy of the past few days....so did the highway from the airport to the capital. Without a barrier in-site, we reached the capital in less than an hour.

Now settled in at my home away from home, I am starting to get my bearings and think about the upcoming few days. There is a lot to learn and while that can be daunting at times, it also gives me a renewed sense of excitement.

In the meantime, I'll just say a little prayer for my luggage before going to bed in my new room.....complete with terrace and blooming flowers.

Skipping a week/Off to San Salvador

I decided to deal with the fact that I am a week behind in postings....hope you all forgive me. The reality is, I am off to Salvador tomorrow morning and the real deal begins after Yom Kippur.

Sadly, these past few weeks have been a nightmare for Salvador with an earthquake, mudslides, floods, and an erupting volcano completing the horrific picture. The US Embassy and my family in San Salvador have kept me up to date and hopefully things will be OK for Continental Airlines to drop me off around noon on Monday.

Yom Kippur is this week and I will be attending my first high holy day services in El Salvador. After the natural disasters subside and the holiday bustle has ended, I will start making the rounds. At the same time, I'll need to take care of some other business such as finding a way to get around town, a briefing with contacts at the Embassy, meeting fellow Fulbrights, and introducing myself to 60-65 (what is the latest count Sr. Presidente?) Jewish families plus one new Rabbi and Rebbetzin. At least there are other people who are also new on the block.

Thanks for your enormous support during these weeks of preliminary research. I hope you will continue to follow my stories as I get to know the beating pulse of this phenomenally diverse, fascinating, and ever-growing community.