Tel Aviv Diary: Karen Alkalay-Gut

in Horshat Tal I jumped right in – well it took me some long minutes to get used to the freezing water, but once I get past that I took the opportunity of the four scrappy girls around me to play the games of the idiot. They knew no Hebrew – I knew no Arabic – I could teach them how not to swim with great articulation. We parted warmly, with no promises of the future, but I will never forget Rowan and Salim, Marianna and Shiraz, and how they could draw an old lady into children’s games.

Sometimes there are trips, and sometimes there are voyages. This one is a voyage. There is so much involved, so much to say, that I am only beginning to digest it. I’ll get back home later today and begin my narratives.

As you know I have a short and irregular memory so what I don’t write down today will be forgotten tomorrow. I’ve already begun to forget this weekend. And the photographs have not been downloaded yet.

First, was the wedding. A ceremony created by the bride and groom about their love for one another and their responsibility to the world. It took place at the northern border of Israel, in the house before the Good Fence, and the only interruption was the muezzin in Lebanon, calling to prayer. It took place as the sun was setting, and I was honored to officiate.

According to Jewish law all you need is a ring, a bride, and a groom, so the fact that I was “presiding” did no harm. And it was a magnificent wedding – true in every way to nature of the couple.

The groom came from down south in Lachish and the bride from the north, and everything about the wedding seemed like a unification of the country. The caterer was Lebanese, and we devoured all kinds of delicacies, not leaving room for the wedding breakfast which was made by the caterer’s mother. A wedding in which the gifts are donated to charity is rare, but charity, says Rabbi Akiba, “saves from death.” The story goes that Rabbi Akiva was told that on her wedding day his daughter would be bitten by a snake and died. But that night, as she undressed, she stuck her hairpin in a crevice in the wall, and in the morning, when she retrieved it, a snake came out as well. She’d stuck the pin into the eye of the snake. “What did you do,” asked the Rabbi, “I gave my wedding meal to a beggar at the wedding. No one noticed him, so I took care of him.” “You have done a good deed,” said the rabbi and the preached, “Charity saves from death” I mean that if people can think of others in their most intimate moments, they deserve to be saved

I went to get a little gift at the mall – thought it would take a minute, but I found nothing, and wandered for a long time in and out of the stores. It was amazing how many people there were, and how few buyers. Except for tourists, I think. The sales are over, and some shops are already showing heavy sweaters. It is too hot to try even the summer things on. So the fall and winter clothes can’t possibly be attractive.

Ezi says that it took me two hours to get what I said I’d get in the first place because I wanted to stay in the air conditioning. He may be right. It’s amazing how much of our lives is affected by the need to get away from the heat.

Anyway, I’m out of here – Going up north for Yael’s wedding. Metula. And, as I recall, the Arazim hotel doesn’t have wireless. If that’s the case, I’ll be seeing you on Sunday.

As one who has been endeavoring to stay as close as possible to the airconditioning as much as possible, I try not to use electrical appliances unless i really have to, and have been considering the hours carefully. No washing clothes during the day, no baking, no vacuum cleaner. This allows me to sit quietly and coolly in the dark and consider the cost of comfort….

What do normal people who can’t afford air conditioning do – go to public places like shopping centers and movie theaters. It’s too hot for the beach. Definitely.

Our president at Tel Aviv University, Joseph Klafter, has shown in today’s article in Ha’aretz that Tel Aviv University transcends all the conflicts of education and propaganda. It made me proud.

Shimon Peres is 87 years old. He gave a little talk last night after the best known stars in the country had performed in his honor and he stole the show. After I cried with Leah Kenig’s “Oif’n Pripichok” and stopped breathing with Ricky Gal’s amazing energy, Boaz Mauda’s wonderful voice, Natan Datner’s effortless hosting and superlative performance as Tevya, Mira Awad’s “There must be another way,” and so on and so forth, I thought there could be nothing more to stir at my heart. And then Shimon Peres came on stage. Simple and clear, he spoke of everything – the history of this country that was reflected in his own biography presented through song and dance, the current political situation, the future. He added a little warning that the distinction between the path of peace and war is extremely fine now, and this is a defining moment. And I thought that with all the leaders of the country in the audience, some effect surely must result from this evening. But then I stepped outside into the real world.

Ezi took these:

You can’t see Peres because he was swamped by photographers. He was very gracious about it

Here you can see him – bathed in light.

The person you CAN see in both pictures is Galia Hai, our violist in Panic Ensemble. Panic is cutting a new disk, by the way, and it’s great.

What a mess we’re in at the university. Front page of Ha’aretz, and it doesn’t look good.Rightist pressure prompts Tel Aviv University head to examine syllabi. On the other hand, the same paper notes that Tel Aviv University ranks among the best in the world universities when it comes to the social sciences, here. Hmm, what could this mean?

I can’t tell you how much I hate those terms – right – left, zionist – post-zionist. The terms themselves force opposition and conflict.

Tonight is President Shimon Peres’ birthday party and we’re invited. That should be incredibly exciting. Something to counter all the post-zionist propaganda I must be getting at the university.

This came in some email and although I usually check things out and only then print it, i was so moved by this I put this here first and then will check it out.

Leica and the Jews

The Leica is the pioneer 35mm camera. It is a German product – precise,
minimalist, and utterly efficient.

Behind its worldwide acceptance as a creative tool was a family-owned,
socially oriented firm that, during the Nazi era, acted with uncommon
grace, generosity and modesty. E. Leitz Inc., designer and manufacturer
of Germany ‘s most famous photographic product, saved its Jews.

And Ernst Leitz II, the steely-eyed Protestant patriarch who headed the
closely held firm as the Holocaust loomed across Europe , acted in such a
way as to earn the title, “the photography industry’s Schindler.”

As soon as Adolf Hitler was named chancellor of Germany in 1933, Ernst
Leitz II began receiving frantic calls from Jewish associates, asking
for his help in getting them and their families out of the country. As
Christians, Leitz and his family were immune to Nazi Germany’s Nuremberg
laws, which restricted the movement of Jews and limited their
professional activities.

To help his Jewish workers and colleagues, Leitz quietly established
what has become known among historians of the Holocaust as “the Leica
Freedom Train,” a covert means of allowing Jews to leave Germany in the
guise of Leitz employees being assigned overseas.

Employees, retailers, family members, even friends of family members
were “assigned” to Leitz sales offices in France , Britain , Hong Kong
and the United States

Leitz’s activities intensified after the Kristallnacht of November 1938,
during which synagogues and Jewish shops were burned across Germany ..

Before long, German “employees” were disembarking from the ocean liner
Bremen at a New York pier and making their way to the Manhattan office
of Leitz Inc., where executives quickly found them jobs in the
photographic industry.

Each new arrival had around his or her neck the symbol of freedom – a
new Leica.

The refugees were paid a stipend until they could find work. Out of this
migration came designers, repair technicians, salespeople, marketers and
writers for the photographic press.

Keeping the story quiet

The “Leica Freedom Train” was at its height in 1938 and early 1939,
delivering groups of refugees to New York every few weeks. Then, with
the invasion of Poland on Sept. 1, 1939, Germany closed its borders.

By that time, hundreds of endangered Jews had escaped to America , thanks
to the Leitzes’ efforts. How did Ernst Leitz II and his staff get away
with it?

Leitz, Inc. was an internationally recognized brand that reflected
credit on the newly resurgent Reich. The company produced range-finders
and other optical systems for the German military. Also, the Nazi
government desperately needed hard currency from abroad, and Leitz’s
single biggest market for optical goods was the United States .

Even so, members of the Leitz family and firm suffered for their good
works. A top executive, Alfred Turk, was jailed for working to help Jews
and freed only after the payment of a large bribe.

Leitz’s daughter, Elsie Kuhn-Leitz, was imprisoned by the Gestapo after
she was caught at the border, helping Jewish women cross into
Switzerland . She eventually was freed but endured rough treatment in the
course of questioning. She also fell under suspicion when she attempted
to improve the living conditions of 700 to 800 Ukrainian slave laborers,
all of them women, who had been assigned to work in the plant during the
1940s.

(After the war, Kuhn-Leitz received numerous honors for her humanitarian
efforts, among them the Officier d’honneur des Palms Academic from
France in 1965 and the Aristide Briand Medal from the European Academy
in the 1970s.)

Why has no one told this story until now? According to the late Norman
Lipton, a freelance writer and editor, the Leitz family wanted no
publicity for its heroic efforts. Only after the last member of the
Leitz family was dead did the “Leica Freedom Train” finally come to light.

It is now the subject of a book, “The Greatest Invention of the Leitz
Family: The Leica Freedom Train,” by Frank Dabba Smith, a
California-born Rabbi currently living in England .

Thank you for reading the above, and if you feel inclined as I did to
pass it along to others, please do so. It only takes a few minutes.
Memories of the righteous should live on.

Thank goodness for Tel Aviv. How could I take Jerusalem without it? Tonight we went to the old train station – a wonderful Tel Aviv experience. The train station was first built by the Turks, but we aren’t picky about where our history comes from. We restored Hassan Bek mosque even though that was Turkish built too. And the whole German Templar neighborhood in Sarona, now the middle of Tel Aviv. What we really care about are some nice places to walk around, take pictures, maybe shop. As long as it doesn’t weigh us down with religious or historical obligations. What Philistines we are! I love it.

By the way, f you want to know what my connection to magic is, it’s right here:

Avra Cadivra