View the most popular tags overall?
" . . .In Argentina, we don't think that one country has to base its relationship with another country on a relationship which that country has with a third nation . . ."
Briefs.
In the 1950s, a few years after Yiddish culture in Europe had been decimated, there was a bustling metropolis in the Western Hemisphere that still had a thriving Yiddish culture. This city had a number of schools in which classes were taught in Yiddish; there was an active theatrical scene, a couple of daily newspapers, books, literary magazines, songs and musicals -- all in Yiddish. There were Yiddish comedians, as well as cafes where Yiddish-speakers gathered to chat and drink tea with a bissel (little) lemon. And there were vacation resorts, a few hours' drive from the city, where Yiddish was regularly heard. New York? Montreal? Actually, Buenos Aires.
News briefs.
Community briefs.
Nathan Englander's new novel, "The Ministry of Special Cases" (Alfred A. Knopf), begins on a dark night in a dangerous time: "Jews bury themselves the way they live, crowded together, encroaching on one another's space. The headstones were packed tight, the bodies underneath elbow to elbow and head to toe.
Meyer was a disciple of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and carried on the humanistic teachings of his mentor.
Today, Rabbi Daniel Mehlman is trying to continue that same tradition.
For most Americans -- or even American Jews -- the date July 18, 1994 does not strike the melancholy chord that Sept. 11, 2001 does, for the Jewish population of Argentina it is a date as infamous as any in the history of the Argentine nation.
Imagine that you live in Latin America and you're Jewish. Typically, you and your family would belong to a full-service Jewish club with cultural, recreational, educational and athletic activities for all ages. The club is reasonably priced, promotes Jewish identity in a secular manner and is the backbone of your social life.
"So, where are you doing the seder?" asks my mother, on the other end of my computer's crackly speakers. I had just arrived in Patagonia, a beautiful region of Argentina, blessed with sparkling blue lakes, snow-capped mountains and forests on fire with the colors of fall.
During a recent trip to Argentina -- eager to see where my parents were born -- I traveled to Carlos Casares, a five-hour trip by car from Buenos Aires. At the town's archive, I looked up my family history. I got more than I bargained for -- especially from a volume of local history that was first written in Yiddish, then translated to Spanish.
"They are holding both my parents together in the living room," recalled Alejandra in a recent interview about the terrifying events of that night 30 years ago. "They ask them questions and then come into my bedroom and ask me the same questions: Where my parents work, what they did, what am I studying at school...."
The idea that Jews in Argentina are passing through on their way from Russia (or other place of origin) to Israel -- a voyage that might last several generations -- was hardwired into the Jewish educational system. Many have made aliyah out of necessity, especially during the Dirty War and subsequent economic downturns.
Guarding the entrance to Bodegas Barberis, a family-owned winery in western Argentina, is a small ceramic statue of the Virgin Mary, known locally as the Virgen de la Carrodilla.
On July 18, 1994, Paola Czyzewski was at the AMIA Jewish community center in Buenos Aires when terrorists bombed it, killing the 21-year-old law student and 84 other people.
In Jeff Blitz's documentary, "Spellbound," Harry Altman grimaces and fidgets at the 1999 National Spelling Bee. The Jewish sixth-grader has been asked to spell "banns," which refers to a Christian marriage notice. He's never heard of it.
One of the best University Synagogue tours ever was our 2000 trip to Argentina and Brazil. Both countries were physically beautiful and Jewishly fascinating, and the speakers with whom we met were unforgettable.
Since that time, however, Argentina has been reduced to terrible economic straits, and its once-thriving middle class is in danger of disappearing. That middle class made Argentina unique in South America, where polarization between rich and poor is the norm.
The Argentine government owes $135 billion to the IMF and the world bank, with little chance of ever repaying this staggering amount. In addition, over the past 45 years, 15 of the 19 agreements with the IMF have been broken, and thus, Argentina has zero credibility for further borrowings.
Members of the Jewish community were deluged by calls from friends and relatives Monday after the Times published on its front page the leaked testimony of a defector from Iranian intelligence.
Several years ago, economist and sociologist Paul Samuelson proposed dividing the world into four categories: the rich countries, the poor countries, Japan and Argentina. Everyone knows the state of rich countries and poor countries. However, no one understands why Japan is doing so well and Argentina so badly.
It takes a visit to Argentina to understand just how bad this crisis really is.
Mariano Fainstein hasn't seen his wife in almost three months, and he may have to miss his daughter's wedding. Because of the recent economic crisis in Argentina, the 52-year-old electronics engineer temporarily left his home in Buenos Aires in hopes of landing a new job in Los Angeles to support his family. He's staying with friends in Sherman Oaks while in talks with a company that has expressed interest in him.
If he gets the job, he won't be able to go home in time to walk his daughter down the aisle. To make matters worse, he isn't sure his wife is willing to join him here.
The Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles has launched a Crisis Fund campaign designed to raise $12 million in emergency relief to address the deteriorating situations in Israel and Argentina. The announcement came just as Federation President John Fishel and Chairman Jake Farber returned from a two-day visit to Israel, as part of an emergency 40-member delegation assembled by The Federation's parent organization, United Jewish Communities (UJC).
For the past six years, a group of close friends in Buenos Aires have shared the second Passover seder together, along with their wives and children. But this year's will be their last.
Community Briefs
Shapira, who also co-chairs a special UJC task force on Argentina, was one of a group of UJC leaders who traveled to Buenos Aires last week to evaluate the needs of the country's Jews during Argentina's continuing economic collapse.
An alarming number of at-risk children are among the Jewish victims of Argentina's economic collapse.
Like the more than 2 million Jews who came to the United States at the turn of the 20th century in search of the American dream, thousands went further south -- to Argentina -- hoping to find a brighter future.
Advertisements
Parshat Vayigash (Genesis 44:18-47:27): It was brief. Jacob, head of the House of Israel, met with Pharaoh, King of Egypt
Brad A. Greenberg reports from today's pro-Israel rally outside the Federal Building in Westwood.
What else explains the collective amnesia on display?