Chanukah gift

We gave Miriam a Chanukah gift: a dreidel full of candies!!

If only you'd be able to see her reaction from my point of view. Her mouth was WIIIIDE open!

Mommy Tatty baby sister oh ya!!

A very random video.

Take 2 - Chanuka wishes

Day 3 of Chanukah, and what a bummer.

Today we were excited. A family here, our neighbors and our only big time sponsors ever (they gave me 2000 dollars cash for Rosh Hashana) was supposed to have a Chanukah party with us. We had brought them a Menorah from America, and Chayale spent a couple of hours making fresh Latkahs and Sufganiyot for them. They cancelled on us in the last minute, and it was really disappointing, as we were really looking forward to it.

Also, forgetting that tonight is Nittel nacht, the one night a year that we aren't allowed to learn, I sat with some members of the community and learnt some Gemara with them, actually we learnt "Mai Chanukah", the portion that discusses the story of Chanukah.

Only after finishing the Sugya did I look at the calendar and see that we weren't allowed to learn. Oh well. Looks like I'll the first Chabad Shliach in Gehinnom ;).

Quick anti-Chabad joke (but a good frum one): a Breslover and Lubavitcher passed away and went to Gehinnom. The Breslover yelled, "Rebbe, save me!" And Rabbi Nachman of Breslov's hand came out of the air and pulled him up to Gan Eden.

Then the Lubavitcher looked up and yelled, "Rebbe, save me!" And a hand came out of the air, gave the Chabadnik a dollar, and said, "start a Chabad House."

Chanukah miracle of the day: While there is always only enough cold water in our shower to last for one drop (per billion boiling water drops), today that one drop suddenly poured out and we had NORMAL warm showers!!! (but not for 8 days. Only for about an hour).

Strange.

The event set up

There were more tables with crafts and Dreidels, but we don't have a good picture of it.

Dreams are weird

About a week ago, a teenager from the community called to tell me that her grandmother, who had passed away a week earlier in Israel, had come to her in a dream wearing white clothes.

Odd, huh?

Chanukah day 2 - a private party

Pictured above is Tigran Avshalumov, son of the woman whose house we visited to say Kaddish, see below for story.

Yesterday was a bit of a lazy day. It started with a panicky morning, as we tried to collect money to pay our final month's rent for our office. In the end, we managed to raise half of the rent ($1250), which we gave the owners. They were so excited that they told us that after we leave, should we ever want to make a Jewish event there, they will give us a large room for free.

Of course, we still have to somehow come up with the rest quickly.

After that, we came home, and Chayale spent a couple of hours with the kids doing 'circle time'. Miriam was in heaven.

We held a 'finance meeting' with our secretary to discuss our finances, and how we can improve on our event next time.

Then again we rested until the evening, when we lit the Menorah and gave Miriam a little piano toy we bought for 10 bucks in Walmart in Monsey and had saved for this occassion. She loves it.

At 9:00 PM we had a visitor. Mel Salamon is a Jew from South Africa who teaches in 'English First' of Stavropol. I have already written about him several times, including the miracle story of how I met him (see previous posts from a couple of months ago). We made him a private 'party.'

The original plan was to actually party and sing a little, but he looked so exhausted. Instead we just sat and chatted. I gave him a Dreidel and a Menorah, and Chayale printed the Brachos (blessings) in English for him.

Then we ate some donuts and Latkas and spoke some more, after which he looked zonked and left home.

We'll see him again on Friday night, as he is our only regular (so far).

Chanukah event hits the news

http://collive.com/show_news.rtx?id=1319

http://yamlive.blogspot.com/2008/12/chanuka-on-ice-in-stavropol.html

http://www.crownheights.info/index.php?itemid=14834

Who the heck is Michael?

A Chanukah message from Miriam.

Chanukah Pics

Making 250 donuts and 150 latkes with Tante Luba

Some rare mother- daughter quality time

Chaim has a Yarmulka!

Lighting the Menorah

Minyan for Kaddish

Last night, after the Chazzanus concert, I had to finish organizing a Minyan.

The entire day yesterday had been spent making calls to try and gather 10 men in order to say Kaddish in memory of Rachamamim ben Mordechai Avshalumov.

You see, one of our biggest and most consistant supporters and friends is a woman named Angela Avshalumova (pictured above with Chaim Shimshon). Her husband is a loud, warm Armenian, and she has three children who, of course, are Halachic Jews. There's Viktoria and Aram, who was 22 year old twins, and there's Tigran, who is (I think) 8.

Every month, she drops by the house unannounced, brings lots of fruits with her, and 3000 rubles (about 120 dollars), and then chats with Chayale. Actually, the first name we knew before we came to the city was Avshalumov, since her sister-in-law is Rina Avshalumov, a friend of Chayale's from Detroit.

Anyway, a week ago, she dropped by and told us how her brother's yahrzeit (day that he passed away) was coming up. She asked what to do. I told her that I'll try to get a Minyan together to say Kaddish. When she suggested that we do it in her house, since her entire extended family will be there too in order to remember Rachamim (or Roma, in Russian), I told her that I'll bring a Menorah which Aram will light.

(Actually the original idea was to get the Chazzan to say Kaddish at Yefim's event, where there will defnitely be a Minyan, but Yefim vetoed that idea).

After making calls the entire day, I finally had 10 men commit to be there. One of the men didn't know he was going to be there, and that was Refoel Khaimov. He's a taxi driver and a mountain Jew. I hired him to bring me there, and then bring me back.

On the way, I told him that he was making our Minyan (10 men needed to say the 'Kaddish' prayer). He was shocked, but happy to join.

We arrived at the Avshalumov residence, which was a little difficult to find, and it is a palace. Beautiful house, even for American standards. May everyone in our community live in such a house.

When I got there, waiting for me was already 9 men. One was a surprise. I had invited his son Roma, but Sasha Solomonov came to complete the Minyan. Then I called Misha Gorovenko, the last man, and he told me he was a few minutes away.

So while we waited, I gathered everyone into the massive living room, and set up the Menorah I had brought. I told over the story of Chanukah in brief. And then, Aram lit the Menorah. It was really beautiful.

Finally Misha arrived, with his little son Dovid in tow, and I instructed them what to do, then said Kaddish. Afterward I explained what Kaddish is about and why we say it.

Then I thanked everyone for coming, and prepared to leave. But Misha Gorovenko grabbed my arm.

"Kavod HaRav," he said (he says those words before he speaks to me. Every time) "we just got here. Please stay longer. I want my son to see some Yiddishkeit and hear you say a few more words."

Viktor, Angela's husband, asked me also to stay, and invited us to sit with him and his family for a small meal. I tried calling Chayale but couldn't get through, so I told them I'll stay a couple of minutes. Then I noticed a bottle of Grey Goose, and told them I can drink that. And water. And fruits.

AFter which a massive discussion on Kosher erupted. Viktor, who owns a restaurant, said that when Rabbi Shayevich (the other chief Rabbi of Russia) came to Stavropol a couple of years ago, he ate in Viktor's restaurant.

This put me in a quandry. I explained that I'm Chabad, etc. etc. Although for the life of me, I cannot understand why Rabbi Shayevich would do that.

Anyway, then I told a Dvar Torah about what is so special about the miracle... it seems like the most boring miracle ever! That followed with a huge discussion on Talmud, and if I can argue with the Talmud. Then people spoke about Rachamim and we all made some Lechaims that his Neshama should have an Aliya.

It was really, really nice. They had put out tons of juicy-looking food. While I didn't touch anything, I could see that the Minyan were impressed and happy. The final discussion was about building a Shul and finsing space for one. While they argued and spoke, I chatted with Aram, the son. He has started working, so I asked him if he would mind being on my Mivtzoim route.

"No problem," he said. So my list has now grown a bit.

Then we all said our thanks, I thanked the entire Minyan for coming and the Avshalumovs for having us, and I got into Refoel's taxi on the way home.

As we are driving past the city center, Refoel turns to me and says, "thank you so much."

He then explained that the person we had just said Kaddish for, Rachamim Avshalumov, was a close friend of his.

Hashgocho Protis is what I call that.



Shayevich

The other party

Cute pun, huh?

Yesterday we went to Yefim's party... Rather, the one he organized for the seniors. Overall, there were about 50 people who attended, and we arrived a couple of minutes late. The kids were at home being baby-sat by Luba Ozerova, the kind woman who helped Chayale make the Sufganiyot.

It was kind of a grand entrance, and everyone turned to look. Chayale thinks that they never actually expected us to come, rather to just find an excuse like they did for our event. But we were there, and what can they do?

They sat us next to two people. One was a mountain Jew couple from Georgia. I had never met him before, but I had said Tehillim for him the previous week while he went for heart surgery (I'm close with his son-in-law... he's on my Mivtzoim route), and he was delighted when I told him his Hebrew name and his mothers Hebrew name!

The other was Anatoly Tartychev, who is the assistant to the governor and a smart man. We relaxed in our seats, and ate some oranges.

For the party they had hired Vladimir Shiff, a local musician who is very good, and brought in from S. Peterburg (through the Federation which pays that 2 entertainers can fly to each city every year) a Chazzan named Boruch Finkelstein.

We assumed that I was going to light the Menorah (which is what I had requested), or say a few words at least, but instead someone else lit the Menorah, and about 10 other people spoke.

It got to the point where people started demanding that they let the Rabbi speak (Anatoly Tartychev was one of them), but... nothing.

Meanwhile the Chazzan sang beautifully, I even knew some of the songs, like 'By mir bistu shein' and 'Shalom aleichem'. There was a poignant moment which was a highlight for me.

There is an 80-year-old named Dovid Fishman who is on Yefim's board. In my opinion, he is the most decent person on the board. I also highly respect him, and honestly think that he is the smartest person in Stavropol. I love him, even though he is someone who probably wants me out of the city.

Last night was his 50th anniversary. He is a short little guy, and he has a short, cute little wife. In honor of their anniversary a song was played for them, and they danced around the room, obviously very much in love. Everyone watched. For some reason it reminded me of my Bubby and Zaidy, who passed away a year ago, and I couldn't keep the tears from my eyes. After the dance I went over to Dovid, drew him into a corner, and made a private Lechaim with him.

Lechaims? I forgot to mention. It was almost an issue. The vodka on the table was a brand I had never seen before. When someone wanted me to say Lechaim, I had to excuse myself and call Rabbi Kahn, our 'kosher Rabbi' in Moscow.

He told me it was 'bechezkas kashrus', in other words, the high percentage is that it's kosher, so unless we know otherwise, we can drink it.

We also saw Yefim's 'Sunday school', which consisted of 5 children, in action. They sang a cute Chanukah song. Then one girl dressed up in a costume and sang 'tumbalalaika', which was really cute.

We left early, and it was a nice event.

On the way out Chayale asked them to give us 6 Menorahs, which they did. That's another annoying thing. All the packages for us go to him. It isn't ritten that they are for us and that we pay for them, therefore he just steals them and uses them. So we had to ask for 6 of our Menorahs. What a situation, eh?

On the way home we walked, for the first time at night, through the center of the city, and met two community members. It was nice.

Many people were upset that they weren't invited. Again, he was selective. Very selective in who can come to his parties.

Things will get better.

First pictures of our new home-to-be

They don't do it justice.

A store near the event

I call it the 'Carlebach store'

The brachos

Chanukah on Linoleum

B"H our party, Chanukah on Ice, was very successful. Over 100 people (and I really counted) attended! There was latkes and donuts made by myself and a lady from the community, chocolate coins, nuts, fruit and lots of soda and beer. Most of the people skated (Including, Kanyeshna, the Rabbi!) and danced to the awesome Jewish music that Zvi prepared. Zvi played dreidel with the adults early on and then again with the kids later on. About half way through, we brought eveeryone to the party room and an old guy told the story of Chanukah. Half way through that, one of the ladies in the community and informed me that actually, he is not saying the story of Chanukah at all! So we hurried him along and then Zvi said a few words and lit the Menorah, a very impressive 5 ft structure . We all sang Haneiros Hallalu and the kids sang Sevivon. Then there was more skating and playing and dancing and a raffle, raffling off a Menorah. We gave out guides with songs and instructions on how to light the Menorah.
The only hitch was when these Christians showed up out of support and proceeded to distribute goody bags full of treif food to all the heilike Neshomas who we were trying so hard to shower with Mitzvos and kosher food. Zvi yelled at the woman who invited them so I don't think that'll happen again soon.
I was a little despondent at the amount of Non-Jews that came. It's one of the downs of Shlichus here, that families are all intermarried. Even the kid who won the Menorah isn't Jewish but Zvi reminded me that his father is and he will Iy"H light the Menorah. That's the hope, that through the non-Jews, we reach the Jews. And the non-Jews are so very nice and really add to the party! Anyway, all in all, it was a beautiful event. We're very proud of our first holiday event!
Happy Chanukah to all! May we meet together in Yerushalayim with Moshiach and light the Menorah in the Beis Hamikdash with Moshiach even before you read this!

Ready for the party

There is an old woman in the community named Luba Ozerova. She claims to be a descendant of Ezra, which would mean that technically, she is Stavropol's only Cohen (that I know of).

She is one of the sweetest ladies in the community. We call her 'Tante Luba'. Whenever she comes over, she takes Miriam and Chaim and entertains them for hours.

Naturally, as she is a good cook and trustworthy woman, we hired her to make all the Sufganiyot for the party (around 250 of them).

She came on Wednesday to learn Chayale's recipe, and they made a delicious batch of donuts, some with jelly, some without. I had like 12 of them, and snuck the rest to Miriam when Chayale wasn't looking. We partied like it was 1999, and they were yum.

To the point: last night (motzei Shabbos), Luba came over and made 93 MORE!! And these are the real ones. The ones before looked deformed, which may be why Luba left them here, and may explain my stool problems (rim shot). I wonder how long I can hold myself in.

From eating, you sicko!

Today she is going to bake like 200 more!!

A chance to move forward

As I wrote (or so I think), last week someone from Moscow came to assess the situation between the president of the community and myself. If you have been reading this blog persistantly, you will know that the president has been abusing his power, and is hated by about 90% of the Stavropol Jewish community. We tried over and over to work with him, but nothing worked out, even signed agreements, which he broke.

Two thursdays ago, we met and he essentially said he didn't want a shul or kosher kitchen in his place. We informed Rabbi Lazar, who sent someone down for the assessment.

First the man, Igor, interviewed us. We spoke for 3 hours. Igor is one of the people who was with me in Moscow when we wrote the agreement the president signed (which he had now broken repeatedly). I told Igor I refuse to work with him because:

1 - He doesn't want Yiddishkeit, and I am here for just that purpose.
2 - He is inconsistent and lies.

We also wanted to take away his funding for the Sunday school.

To make a long story short, the current situation, after all the talking, etc. is:

1 - Sunday school is ours (funding at least). This means we can start to teach Yiddishkeit to the kids again.
2 - The shul and kosher kitchen moves out of the center. We will rent our own office, where the shul, kitchen, and Sunday school will be.
3 - We will inform each other of what we will do each month.

Let's see how this works out. It's definitely a better situation than it was before.

Sketches

In the last post, some random people asked for sketches and assured our many viewers that this site rocks.

Hopefully this blog will help them decide that they want to experience this too, and go on shlichus to Russia. I may not write it much, but the fact is, shlichus here is amazing! We have an unbelievable community. I wouldn't go anywhere else in the world if you payed me (and believe me, if you payed me I'd be in a better off spot than I am now).

Another quick point: if you are reading this, we can use your help, and you get to see where your funds go. COntact me if you can or want to. My email: rabbizvi44 at yahoo.com

Anyway, to the diagrams. The first is a toe poking out of the bathtub.

___/\__________________________


Now, a question mark floating above the water.


?

_________________________________________________


And finally, the last (and best) diagram. Our pathetic shower head:


======п
H
H
/-\
!
!
!
!
!
!
!


?


Notice the question makr under the shower.

The water doesn't reach his head.

Bathing Russian style

Above is an old picture from before we had a washing machine.

Life was good then.

But life in Russia is no simple matter. A year ago we moved into a new apartment, which has its faults (Boruch Hashem we are moving again soon). The biggest problem is the water issue, which we tried to address immediately. But the plumbers explained us that the way it was built makes it unfixable without tearing apart the entire apartment (same goes for many plugs and light fixtures).

This meant that when we have water, only a dribble of cold water comes out, while hot water will blast out of it like Mount Vesuvius. Therefore, for the past year we were forced to resort to taking showers under limp spools of water like the old showers in CGI Montreal, in order that the hot and cold water should be evenly dished out.

About a month ago, the cold water stopped altogether. Since then, we have had to fill buckets with cold water from the kitchen, then even it out by pouring boiling bath water into it.

This is followed by getting a 'kvart', and then systematically pouring the warm water over our heads several times.

The rumors are true. I actually did come up with a better alternative method, which is currently under review for a Nobel prize.

What I have started doing is filling the bath with hot water, then adding a ton of cold water (this takes about 45 minutes to set up), then I shower in the bath if you get my drift. Lots of fun, the only downside is that I get to sit in my own guck for a half hour.

Easily solvable though. That's why towels were created.

Oddly, on Friday and Shabbos this past week, there was only cold water and it was blasting.

I hate Murphy.

One Day with our Misnaged is worse than 365 days with no hot water

Der Chossid, Reb Yid, Zvi Peretz Chershkovich Shlita

The Misnaged

Last night Zvi welcomed a guy at the airport from Moscow, Igor, who came to assess the situation as it stands in Stavropol. We hoped it meant that he would assess that Efim is not a good idea for the Jews of Stavropol and a new and better person should replaced him.


After speaking with the misnaged this morning, Igor came to our home where he was served a delicious lunch (if I may say so myself) and met with the Der Chossid, Reb Yid, Zvi Peretz Chershkovich Shlita. Harav Zvi made his Rebbetzin very proud when he said firmly and politely that we are no longer going to work with Efim ; he doesn't want Yiddishkeit, we do. He isn't trustworthy.


An hour later, people started to show up at our door just to get a word in on all the Tzuros and problems and personal harrasement they had with F-him (oops did i really just write that!?) . They were all young and cute and pretty. Well, not all but they really were a lively bunch. They wouldn't stop talking. Efim called a number of times in the middle but Igor, the dude, was conveniently never available.


Finally after a number of hours, Igot had to go back to Efim and speak to his guys about how the Rabbi gives no him no mula or respect and doesn't tell him about events ahead of time.


The dude, Igor, it seems, is not so clearly on our side as were sure of in the morning. He has been very neutral but to quote him as he left our house "the problem is a lot bigger than I thought..."


So, in conclusion, Chayale is a good cook, Zvi is a smart man, we have a stunning new apartment, and Efim is a misnaged. And the A"R said "The time spent with a Misnaged is so much worse than jail (Rashi: Soviet crumbling homes with no water)


So now we're hoping not that we kick out Efim - that'll take too much time and energy and could land us on our tuchesses big time- but that we reach an agreement that we will go our separate ways. May it be His will.

The Shul in Krasnodar

Just realized we never posted a picture.

Something for us to look forward to...

A day in Pyatigorsk

Pyatigorsk.

A beautiful, very European city, yet full of different characters which makes you feel as though you landed in Western Asia. Mountains can be seen all around it, including the 5 mountains which give the city its name. Mount Elbrus, the tallest mountain in Europe, can be seen in the distance, along with rest of the Kavkaz, which look alot like the Alps.

I traveled there today for just the second time since I've been here (the first was to visit Rabbi Shertil Shalumov, a mountain Jew, and the Rabbi of the city).

I was going to take the bus there, but then I got a good deal on a taxi (just 1500 rubles) and got a nice quiet drive in the comfortable seats of the car, where I lay down and slept.

The reason I was going was because of the Sachnut (an organization with a goal to deal children around the world about Israel, and eventually have everyone make Aliya. They employ locals to do the teaching). The guy in charge of the Sachnut in South Russia, an Israeli named Lev, was in Pyatigorsk for the day, and I agreed to meet him upon the request of Natasha, the very nice lady who runs the Sachnut in Stavropol, and has helped us many times during our rough patches and early days here.

The Sachnut of Pyatigorsk is located next to the city theatre, and I was picked up and brought to its spacious offices by Misha, their driver. There I met Lev, and we sat down to chat.

Basically he told me (some of this is not his words) that the Sachnut in Russia has also been hit bad by the economic crisis (several people have told me that they are closing shop all over Russia... virtually everywhere). He suggested that we rent a place together, or rather, that we rent a place, and Natasha would technically 'rent' a room or two from us, and use our place as an address for the Sachnut. He explained that the Sachnut's all over Russia are being asked to try and join with the other Jewish organizations in the city (which probably is very hard in other cities, considering all the built up animosity between organizations that vie for control, as is usual for Jewish communities around the world). They tried to work with Yefim (community president who has been giving everyone a hard time), but he refuses.

My opinion? first off, regarding the entire Russia, this is good for the Chabad Rabbonim around Russia, since most of their competition will be gone, allowing them to focus on their work.

As for Stavropol, I gladly welcome Natasha and would love to work together with her. Aside from the fact that she has helped us and is a genuinely kind and competent person whom the community adores, it is also better for the community. Yefim is probably losing his funding from Moscow (I won't get into that now, but it is good news, since he has only abused his power), and this means that all Jewish organizations are under one roof.

The community is bigger than myself (or rather, myself and Chayale). Yes, we are here to focus on Yiddishkeit, but the truth is that we cannot help everyone, and the more Jewish organizations that exist here which can offer services and simply be there for people, the better.

The advantages:

- We can reach out to more people
- Working together with her means that she will introduce us to the community and we will meet more faces
- Not only will our organization be completely kosher, but so will the Sachnut! (a condition of them working with us)
- At least the people going to Israel will know a little about Yiddishkeit
- Less stress in the long run
- Instead of focusing on who we are NOT, we can focus on who we are, and try to get a Synagogue going.

That's my opinion.

Also in Pyatigorsk, I put Tefillin on a mountain Jew (Lev had already wrapped himself up that morning), and spoke to the head of the 'Joint' of South Russia, which gives food to old people in Russia, and also wants to work together.

Now I'm back home. I cannot go outside tonight (not that I would) because the police called a curfew saying that there are dangerous people around tonight and everyone should be vigilant and stay indoors.

Stavropol.

From a real turkish newspaper

http://www.dunyabulteni.net/news_detail.php?id=60605

See the second to last picture.

Help a child with leukemia

Alexander Feldman, 2 years old, has cancer. Boruch Hashem it isn't bad, and is easily treatable with chemotherapy and vitamins. But his father Denis, a member of the Jewish community of Stavropol is out of a job, and now literally has no food to put on the table.

I want to raise enough money to get the child through the year, and to do that I need to find someone who can give an 11,500 dollars donation.

Anyone know of anyone?

The picture is of Denis and Alexander.

My little brother makes it (somewhat) big

http://chabad.info/index.php?url=article_en&id=13242

Chaim's bed

Just a picture.

Governor Gaievsky's Jubilee

This past Thursday was the new governor of Stavropol Krai's birthday. His 50th birthday, hence his 'Jubilee'.

Ari Edelkopf, shliach to Sochi, shared this information with me, and suggested I send him a card and a gift.

At first, I decided not to do this, since I wanted to deliver the Menorah I have for him personally, but then we found a wonderful present given to us by friends in Montreal who were in Israel... A Chamsa with Birkas Habayis on it.

So my secretary bought a big card, and we wrapped up the Chamsa in a nice gift bag that we had bought in New Jersey.

We deliberated alot over what to write. My suggestion was:

"Esteemed majestic and honored governor may you live to 120,

Congratulations on your Jubilee! I'm sure you know that the word 'Jubilee' cmes from the Hebrew word 'Yovel', in which every 50 years all land was returned to it's proper owner in ancient Israel. Therefore, in recognition of YOUR Jubilee, we request the return of the Stavropol Synagogue to it's proper owner."

Unfortunately, my plan was vetoed, and you can read above what we eventually wrote.

We brought it to the 'Duma', and dropped it off with a Jew who works in the governors office, and prmosied to give it to Mr. Gaievsky.

The worst thing about shlichus in Russia

Here's a picture I found from last years Chanuka event for the kids.

Being a Rabbi in a Russian city is difficult nowadays, and for many reasons.

- Barely any kosher food
- Anti-Semitism is occassinally tangible (and swastikas are all over)
- The closest Rabbi/friend is a 5 hour drive
- Your entire family and most of your friends are in a different time zone
- With the current economic crisis, we are barely funded
- We must leave every 3 months for at least a month (it's impossible to get residency)
- Any peulos you do are taken for granted
- In order to survive you must learn the art of bribery

But the worst by far, the hardest thing about Russian shlichus occured this past shabbos, when we had an entire family over for the meal.

I had met the teenaged son over the internet, and he had assured me that his mother was Jewish from 'her mother' (meaning that the family were Halachic Jews).

When I called them to invite them, I found out that they also had a daughter of preschool age. Now I was really excited. A teenager and a little girl!

Friday we both prepared for the meal. Chayale made one of the most delicious dinners ever (including a dessert that was out of this world), and I prepared a bunch of Dvar Torahs.

They came, and we had a wonderful time. Singing, chatting, telling over some words of Torah. The family was totally normal. They were obviously well-off, and enjoyed the meal.

We were really excited that we had found another Jewish family to introduce to the community (they didn't know there was an established community here in Stavropol).

But then as they left, the mother gave Chayale a hug, and in middle of thanking her, told her that only her father was Jewish!

This has been eating us up since.

All that effort...

Like father, like daughter

Karkafta at the airport

As reported before, our luggage (including over 500 dollars of refrigerated food) was left in Moscow on Wednesday night.

And what an ordeal. We filed a report, and then came home. Thursday we had people calling them all day, until we found out that I had to fly to Moscow to get our stuff.

We started planning to book a ticket, and even thought about making a short fundraising trip in order to reimburse for the trip and perhaps pay for Chanukah. However, I was really sick (see last post) and not looking forward to the trip. Also, it would mean transferring and lugging 7 huge bags to a different terminal alone.

Firday morning good news came. They might fly our luggage to Min Voda but we'll have to pick it up. When will it arrive? at 2:00 (which leaves 2 hours left til shabbos starts. Min Voda is a 2 hour drive from Stavropol).

I went to the notary to officially give permission for a goy to pick up our stuff (I'm not into taking risks), and he set off for the long drive (which we paid for).

Side note: a sign of Russian bureaucracy was the NINETEEN stamps on the notaries table (I counted them all). She used 5 of them on my document.

Friday night the dude didn't show up with our luggage. At 2 AM our door rang, but no one came upstairs.

Shabbos day to our surprise Viktoria (our secretary, who always has shabbos off), showed up. She told us that we ALL had to go there in person.

By this time we were certain that it was all probably ruined (the meat, cheese and fish).

So Sunday we set off, all 4 of us sick, in 2 cars. One driven by Oleg Bogopolsky, the other by Refoel Khaimov, a mountain Jew (he's a halachic Jew, his wife isn't. And he's the guy who drove me ever yom kippur to the freezing ice cold mikva in the mountain stream I took, which I think I wrote about).

We got to the airport and had to wait for a vet to arrive.

Why a vet?

To throw out the mneat and stuff, since 'we cannot allow this stuff into Russia.'

While we waited I decided to ask Refoel if he ever put on Tefillin. "No" was his answer. So I took out mine, and asked if he was interested in doing it.

"In the street?"

"If you'd like, we can put it on in the car."

"No, I am a proud Jew. Let's do Tefillin outside."

So for my first time in Russia, and first time I have ever seen in Russia, a Jew put on Tefillin in public.

Then we went inside, where we had to open our luggage to be scrutinized by the vet.

He was a big Russian, looked like a Cossack.

He started off by ranting about how we weren't allowed any food into Russia, and we would have to pay a fne.

But Chayale spoke to him, and calmed him down. She explained to him about kosher, and told him to be nice to us.

Surprisingly he agreed, and not only let us take in all the non-rotten meat (which was alot), but also let us get away with no fne whatsoever, even for overwheight luggage.

Most of the food survived and are now in our freezer.

A day at the doctor in Stavropol

I think the proper thing to do before I get to the doctor part of this is tell you about our trip home.

While in Montreal I had nursed a bad strept (or is it strep?) back to health, and just before I left Morristown to return home, it returned.

I staked my claim that it was bad, but there was no time anyway to go to the doctor.

We got to the airport a little late, and had to sort things out.

Basically, our travel agent (may no one use his services) has screwed us over. We had bought tickets to Moscow online (complicated story), and we payed him to get us tickets from Moscow to Mineralniy Voda, the closest normal airport.

He was doing three things at once, so he made it on the wrong date. Then, when we discovered this, he made us pay for all the changes as though it were our fault... and didn't even connect it to the New York-Moscow flight, meaning we would have to transfer all our 7 pieces of luggage from one terminal to the next in Moscow and recheck in (and pay overwheight again), all whilst lugging our two kids along.

At the airport we were the last to check in, and rushed through it. The ticket counter lady was really nice and friendly, and she organized that our luggage will go straight to Min Voda, which was a relief.

We had a new theory for Miriam. Usually she gets cranky and bad throughout the flight. This time we decided to let her be until she falls asleep, and not try to do it on our terms. It worked, and she fell asleep for the entire flight, a miracle of red-sea-splitting porportions.

Chaim also pretty much slept through the flight, which was good.

It was our year anniversary from going on shlichus, and our 3 year anniversary since we married. We exchanged gifts on the plane.

Finally, we landed in Moscow. We stood by the plane demanding our double stroller, since otherwise we'd be carrying the kids around. We ran to the domestic transfer desk (located all the way across the entire airport) with the kids, only to be told that we had to buy Chaim a ticket, since our TRAVEL AGENT in America forgot to do so.

So we had to clear customs, find a counter and get the ticket. We then exchanged terminals, went through security again, and with them announcing our name already over the loudspeaker, were told that the bought ticket wasn't registered in their system.

Luckily the lady at the desk got on our case, bumping in front of an entire lineup at the Aeroflot ticket counter, and we were the last people on the plane.

Naturally, all our seats were far away from each other, so they upgraded us to business class.

Peeking into first class, in Russia they ACTUALLY HAVE PAINTINGS ON THE WALLS of the plane! And people are literally sinking into couches and stuff.

It was like being on a flying Louvre.

We landed in Min Voda, only to find out that our luggage was still in Moscow.

We were told that we'd have to fly to Moscow to get it back, but then thankfully they were sent to Min Voda. In an hour we will iy"h pick it up. All our many pounds of meat, cheese and fish are probably ruined.

Meanwhile, when we got back, all of us were sick. We had endured a gruelling 4 hour ride on a 'gazelle' (mini-bus with no shocks), a trip that should normally take an hour and a half.

My strep had returned full swing, so we booked an appointment with the doctor in the medicine center, considered the3 classiest place in Stavropol, and only a block away.

We have connections there since the owner of the private center is a Jew. His daughter, who heads one huge department, is a good friend of Chayale's, as is his grand-daughter.

Anyway, I went to the doctor with my secretary, who would be needed for translation purposes.

The Stavropol center of medicine, which is the largest and most exclusive medicine center of the city, is run by a member of the community. His daughter heads one department, and his grand-daughter, a student who speaks sluent English, is a friend of Chayale's.

Therefore we are totally hooked up there, and in Russia, being connected means everything. Like you can find a janitor who can't go anywhere or do anything getting the best Vodka in the city for free because he knows the manager of the local store, or something like that.

Anyway, I will not describe the entire procedure of the super upper-class medicine center (which is about the equivalent of the Harlem Hospital emergency room in efficiency and classiness).

The doctors office was kind of large, with two doctors, one in front of a computer taking notes the entire time.

The one who dealt with me looked a little like an alien from a homemade video, being that she had a flashlight wrapped around her head with some silver foil thing. The flashlight, instead pointing toward my mouth like it does in America, rather shone toward her forehead where there was a massive silver reflector, so she can see inside my entire mouth (and probably my lungs and stomach too).

She started by asking me a bunch of questions. And by 'bunch' I mean like somewhere around the number 700. Meanwhile, the computer doctor was typing my answers furiously.

The questions included:

"Do you have elephantitis?"
"At what age exactly did you hit puberty?"
"Did you ever marry with a mammoth?"

The only questions they forgot were:

"Have you been to Chernobyl?"
and
"Did you pack these bags yourself and did you watch them at all times?"

When the interrogation finished, the check-up started. And boy was it primitive (but unfortunately without witch doctors).

First she checked my nose. She put a tiny gauze pad under my left nostril and asked me to hold my right nostril shut and breathe in and out from my left one.

She watched the fluttering gauze pad with interest, and the other lady furiously jotted down notes into the computer ("His right exhalement blew the gauze 15 nanometers further than the left one").

Then she checked my ears. Standard stuff. She peered through that black telescope doctors have and muttered stuff in Russian as the other lady assaulted the keyboard.

She then reached for the matches on the table (yes, among the doctor equipment on the table was a box of matches).

I quickly cracked a nervous joke about how I need my beard to be a Rabbi, and then watched as she lit one of those things that are put under hot food at simchas.

She then took a mirror, and stuck it to the end of a stick (how primitive can you get?), and HELD THE MIRROR OVER THE FIRE. As she turned it over and over atop the flame as though it were a hot dog, she asked me to open my mouth and stick out my tongue.

She was a slick one. As soon as my tongue popped out she grabbed it with her hand (protected from germs and shomer negiah issues by a gauze pad). Then she stuck the sizzling mirror into my throat. It burned so I tried to jump back, but she had a good grip on my tongue.

"I am never coming back," I thought at this point, but didn't say it, partially because I couldn't, since my tongue was being yanked.

Finally she finished checking my throat, and decided to test my hearing. And so (I kid you not) she went to the other side of the room and asked me to block one ear. Then she covered her mouth and started whispering words that I had to repeat back to her.

I don't mean to brag, but I got every single word correctly. And without boasting, let me say that I did 100% with both ears.

I half expected her to then walk into the next room and start whispering words, to test the decibel level of my ears, but thank G-d she didn't.

Then they printed out the subscription, and it had a total of NINE MEDICINES!!!!@#$%%$#@!!

One was for my 'ear problem' (go figure).

On the way to the apteka (pharmacy), we narrowed them down to 3.

Now I must never, ever get sick again.

Ever!

At the zoo

Yesterday was our last complete day in America. As a matter of fact, in only a couple of hours our flight back to Stavropol begins, and we have 7 suitcases ready and packed by the door.

Since the 'tzimtzum', as they call it (meaning: since Leviev's funding slowed down), the network established to get Shluchim in Russia kosher meat and milk stopped.

In the past, we would call Or Avner headquarters in Moscow, make our request (usually 90 kilos of chicken and 2 large boxes of long-life milk every 3 months or so) and they would send it to us and take the price off our salary. A simple and efficient plan.

But now things are different. Our ginormous freezer in Stavropol is almost bare, and there is no way to get meat. So this time we have packed lots of meat. Another shame, since the price for Kosher (Lubavitch shchita) meat in the US sky-rocketed.

Anyway, yesterday we finally managed to get to a zoo. It cost 15 dollars to go to turtleback zoo in New Jersey and barely anyone was there. Miriam ran around delighted. Squealing at the eagles, scared at the snakes (she even fell off a chair), and in awe of the horses (we couldn't get her to leave the horses).

It was a fun way to end our time in America, but it's a relief to be going back home.

Now if only we had all the papers for permanent residency.

We lost a great one

So much has been written about the attacks on Chabad of Mumbai that I don't think there is much more I could write.

Like many others I was glued to the computer trying to find out news. A Tehillim lay open in front of me and I would say a kapitul every so often confident that Rabbi Holtzberg and his family were going to be released.

After all, haven't we heard all the Farbrengens? the ones where the Mashpia tells us all that 'no shliach of the Rebbe has ever been harmed on his shlichus because shlucho shel odom kemoso'?

So what does this mean now? does this mean that all shluchim are vulnerable? is the magic of 'shlucho shel odom kemoso' over? for those of us living in 'dangerous' areas (and Stavropol is listed as one to US travelers, aside from the fact that down the block from us 2 Chechnyans killed some people), do we now leave our posts? or beef up security? do we hide? run?

The answer of course is NO WAY! Particularly in Russia, where we are out there to give them Jewish pride. 9/11 showed us that NOWHERE is safe. Not Manhattan, not the middle of Pennsylvania. So we DO beef up security, but we don't stop. We stand proud.

And we are proud of the victims we mourn. From what I hear, he was a great one. Someone that impressed even the Gerrer Chassidim and Satmar Chassidim with the breadth of his learning.

We need Moshiach. And this is why all us shluchim are out there. So he will come.

And we won't stop and hide.

Photos from the kinus

This is last years controversial photo of Rabbi Sholom Ber Estrin and myself:



This year we again stood in the exact same spot next to each other, and made sure not to stand out in any way: (except that I was wearing Canadiens boxers)



Our table at the banquet. I sat next to Shua Naparstek and Yisroel Bernath, both Rabbis (naturally). Next year iy"h we will each have our own table with layleaders:



This final photo is an interesting one. As I was wandering with Dovid Russ, we bumped into a couple of Chassidim (not Lubavitch... perhaps skver or something) and had a very nice conversation. I think they were brought down as lay-leaders. They said it was their first kinus and were very impressed and touched. They took a photo with us as well, and here it is: (from http://www.theyeshivaworld.com/gallery/main.php?g2_itemId=52227)

What a kinus can do

Last year I caused quite a stir when I posed for a friend at the photo part of the kinus (international conference of shluchim), and it made it into the (New York) daily news.

So this year, undaunted, I made my way up to the EXACT SPOT I was last year with the EXACT SAME friend I posed with (what brevity!), only this time we smiled all the time (including when I smashed my funny bone into the metal back of the bleachers).

I am the guy on the top right of the picture (with the scarf).

The kinus, for us Russian shluchim, is something extra special. For some reason we are the pride of Chabad. I mean, they will be announcing the roll call, and passing through the shluchim of like Dubai, Cuba, South Korea and Lebanon, but only when they reach Russia, do they make a big event out of it.

Perhaps it's because Lubavitch originated there, but some guys have a harder time than us, in my opinion.

On a side note, from reading the Achdus shluchim forum and thwe population figures of Jews world-wide by country, I have compiled a short list of still-available countries to be a 'head shliach'.

Dubai (Pro: no need to fundraise in America ever again. Con: the cost to ransom your remains is exhorbitant).
Andorra (a tiny country between France and Spain where there are some Jews)
Gibraltar (Just noticed it wasn't mentioned by R' Kotlarsky. Why isn't there a shliach there?)
Mongolia (there is actually a community there)
Iceland (They even have a shul. But read from a paper Torah)
Phillipines (Some Jews in Manila)

See? told you I have alot of spare time.

Anyway, back to the kinus.

This year I made the motzei shabbos event, and boy was it inspiring. The banquet was also fantastic. My favorite moment came when the Israeli ambassador to somewhere thanked an Argentinian Rabbi who saved his daughters life (you had to be there).

This year there were two 'sessions' for the Russian shluchim and one farbrengen.

The first class focused on economic issues. I'd write in detail but I don't think this is the proper place to do so. The second was with George Rohr who promised to continue supporting us by giving us (at minimum) our salaries. He got a standing ovation for that (and who wouldn't?). At the end of the session, we all had a chance to personally thank him for about 20 seconds.

When I found myself in front of him I thanked him and gave him a gorgeous photo book Chayale made, with all the best photos of stuff we have done this past year in Stavropol. Inside was a letter with a plan (Chayale wants to start) to make some kind of Shabbos candles program going in memory of his mother.

He wished me Hatzlacha, and as I headed out I saw Rabbi Lazar perusing through the pictures.

The kinus gave me a boost, and I will return to Stavropol ready to try out many new ideas.

We leave in a week.

No beaurocracy for a change

It's always a pain getting documents together for anything... Particularly the Russian government.

We have spent the past month working our and you will have to excuse my very coarse language TUCHISSES off trying to get the following documents we need in order to make permanent residency (and don't get me started with what we had to do to get our new visas, suffice it to say that some licking of a Russian security guards toes took place).

- All birth certificates (inculding Chayale's original from England).
- Two copies of our marriage license (to go in BOTH our files). Thank G-d we aren't polygamists.
- A police report (with photo and fingerprints) of every adult.
- All those documents notarized.
- Then internationally notarized (apostille in the US, authentication in Canada).
- Then everythng translated into Russian by an official translator.
- And stamped by the Russian embassy, verifying the translation.

Of course after this must take several blood tests to prove that we aren't on drugs, and don't have AIDS, and then, and then, AND THEN...

And then maybe we will be allowed to get permanent residency, since only 1000 people are allowed each year in each province.

But it's worth a shot.

And everything took time, money, and errors.

Except for today. I was up to the part called 'authentication', which meant I had to take the notarized documents to Ottawa.

So I traveled 2 hours each way to the Canadian department of authentication and other long words, and expected:

- To pay alot of money
- To wait 10 working days for it to arrive
- To lick at least one toe

Anyway, in the end, I walked in. A lady says, "give me the papers and sit." 30 seconds later she comes out and hands me the papers back, stamped... all for free!

The world amazes me sometimes.

The end of the Kovalev story

Update: we are in Montreal, which is why we haven't updated the website in a while, since there isn't much to report here with regards to Stavropol news.

However before we left, I (Zvi writing) had another meeting with Alex Kovalev.

It was thanks to a great idea by Chayale.

Since the photographer at the Torah event came at a very cheap price, and did a great job taking high quality shots, why don't we hire him before we leave back, and take our own stock photos of all our Jewish items, so we don't have to search the entire internet next time we make a brochure like we had to for the Torah event?

To take this a step further, why not bring in 6 of the community's cutest kids to be in some of the pictures, like this we have high quality shots of kids FROM OUR COMMUNITY doing Mitzvos, so on our next Chanuka flyer we send out, there will be a local kid in a beautiful shot.

We had one day to organize it, and we managed to do just that.

Except for the Torah. Half hour before the photo-shoot I rushed to the Jewish center, and grabbed the Torah. Now I needed a way back, so I called everyone I knoew with cars, but they were all out of the city. It was raining, and I wasn't too keen on taking the Torah into a taxi with someone I didn't know, so I called Alex Kovalev (a Jewish cab driver I met), and for the first time in many tries, he was in the area.

He came quickly, and I showed him the Torah, and we spoke about it on the way home. I also explained him again about Hashgacha Protis, and finally he agreed to bring his family to a holiday, provided I give him advance notice.

As we pulled up to our apartment, he said, "by the way, I have something interesting to tell you."

"Go ahead" I said.

"Remember last time I told you that I have a sister who lives in the Czech republic? well she just gave birth to a son. Now in Czech, the tradition is to name the first son after the father, so everyone knew that the boy would be named 'Yarik', which is the name of her husband. However, when she arrived at the office of registry, she just blurted out that she wants his name to be 'David', even though she never knew anyone named David (note: David as 'Dovid', not David with a Day-vid)."

Alex then told me, "Strange Rabbi, David is a Jewish name, and I had never told her that she was a Jew!"

Chills

Found this bit of false but true-sounding news

http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&sl=ru&u=http://www.kiprian.ru/passion/2008/04/03/tsvi/&sa=X&oi=translate&resnum=7&ct=result&prev=/search%3Fq%3D%25D1%2581%25D1%2582%25D0%25B0%25D0%25B2%25D1%2580%25D0%25BE%25D0%25BF%25D0%25BE%25D0%25BB%25D1%258C%2B%25D1%2586%25D0%25B2%25D0%25B8%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG

I think it's kinda funny.

An email my Mammy-in-law wrote to a friend of her experience in Stavropol

We went to Russia because Chayale and Zvi were donated a Sefer Torah, or Torah scroll and they had organized a ceremony to bring it to its new home in their Jewish center. A Torah scroll is a very expensive item, since it's the work of a scribe writing by hand the entire Torah on calf parchment. This one cost $30,000. The man who purchased and donated the Torah scroll was a student of Rony's at Carmel- graduated in 1994. A Russian boy- one of the many who attended Carmel in the early '90's, whose parents made an immediate mountain of money after arriving in Western Europe from Russia. Eli (Ginsburg) has since returned to Russia to capitalize on the boom in Moscow. Done very well in casinos. Has a big Russian heart and a gorgeous smile. He paid our tickets, which ran over a $1000 each.

Another donor involved in the day was Peter Order, another Russian/German Old Carmeli from the same years. He donated an aron hakodesh, or custom-built cabinet to house the scroll. Both of these guys attended the ceremony, but more on that later.

The itinerary for the trip was JFK-Moscow, Moscow-Mineralnye Vodi and then Mineralniye Vodi (by 2 hour car trip)-Stavropol. Way back was four hour car trip fromv Stavropol-Krasnodar, Krasnodar-Moscow, Moscow-New York.

It ain't conveniently located, Stavropol.

Lost at least one night ahead of time preparing school work for my absence. We left on Wednesday, September17 right after I got home from Monsey after teaching. Our luggage included an absolute minimum of personal items among 3 HUGE suitcases stuffed with stuff for the Hershcoviches. Plus we acquired an additional box of stuff for one of the Russian rabbinical families, from the organization in NY that sponsors these guys. In short, we were not traveling light and were in fact far overweight. Luckily they averted their gaze on this; sometimes Rony's get-up- suit, beard, hat serve quite conveniently to stifle criticism. We just leave 'em struck dumb behind us.

Among the carry-on stuff we happened to be toting a shofar, a ram's horn which is hollowed out for the purpose of blowing during the services of Rosh Hashonah. Most shofars are modest items, 8-10 inch horns that can be tucked into bags. But Chayale, bless her little Russian heart, ordered Chavi to go and purchase a GARGANTUAN specimen, a veritable Goliath of shofars, fully 3 feet long, with graceful sweeping curves along its length. I mean, this came from a REALLY BIG ram. And it wasn't going into any suitcase. I dragged it along behind me, and wondered if security would consider it a weapon. Moseying along down the concourse it elicited many stares and of course it served as a sure-fire conversation starter.

As we slid up to the first security check at the check-in hall into the concourse the guard took a look at the shofar and asked (knowingly- this is code Jew-to-Jew, that "I'm Jewish too") if we were going to Russia to give religious services. I answered "yes", but my husband's eyes lit up. He asked the guard "Did you hear shofar yet today?" "Nope." "Can I blow for you?" The bloke answered "yes", but that's because he didn't know what was coming. I couldn't believe it, that it was really going to happen, as there was a rapidly growing line behind us. Let me tell you that a 3-foot shofar makes a REALLY big noise, and Rony of course did not short-change the guy- he blew all the necessary sounds, about a full minute and a half's worth. I could not possibly describe the scene properly. The check-in hall in the international terminal at JFK is cavernous, about the length of a football field and totally open-air. At the blast of Rony's shofar the entire hall, thousands of people, came to a stand-still, security personnel spinning in their tracks, and all stood there immobilized until he finished. Once done, there were a few seconds of stunned silence and then…. They all applauded.

Quite a dramatic advent to our journey. All the way to the plane, we drew appreciative stares and strangers came up to meet us. I began to feel that fame would have its drawbacks, and started to feel sympathy with Angelina Jolie. It's not easy to deal with constant admiration and attention.

Plane trip. Long and boring through the night. Another with no sleep.

Moscow in the morning overcast. We have to catch a shuttle to a different airport for the next leg. Waiting in the airport, Rony, feeling that he was on a roll, repeated the shofar thing for another unsuspecting traveler. Bit dicier, in NY anything goes, but hey this is Moscow, most of the airport security are ex-KGB. Luckily utter shock kept them quiet.

Shared the shuttle ride with a Russian ex-pat from Queens who was returning with her husband to Sochi to start a business there in preparation for the 2014 Olympics. Before we got off the bus she had managed to engage my husband, who has a real flair for cutting to the chase, in a discussion about why G-d conceals Himself in the world.

Next plane ride to Mineralniye Vodi, a provincial town two hours car-ride east of Stavropol. The city is a regional resort for Russians- known for its mineral waters and spas, a kind of Carlsbad of the Caucacus- but pretty much ignored by Westeners. No one in that airport spoke English. No one. And it was absolutely clear no one had ever seen anyone that looked like my husband. Yep, we were a long way from New York.

Picked up by Alek, a friend/driver/community member of Chayale and Zvi's circle. He drove very slowly. The drive started promisingly enough, on a highway that looked a lot like Highway 14 through Hand County, slashing through flat wheatlands (dark though it was). Then things deteriorated; highway became old 14. Finally, at one point, "highway" resembled that track through the Elk Mountains up behind the Rock House, the one that you can only travel with a Jeep. Once we slowed down to 15 miles per hour on this road, we were pretty sure we had reached the stage when we were about to be kidnapped in foreign territory by Chechnyan ists.

But, it turned out inexplicably, that this is just the road to Stavropol. Hmmm.

Arrived in Stavropol about 10:00 pm their time, 6:00 am ours. Another night with no sleep.

Chayale and Zvi's apartment, let's put it delicately, is modest. Crumbling Soviet block of cement walls. The elevator doesn't stop on their floor (elevator holds only two skinny people without touching each other, two heavier in a tight embrace) so the suitcases went to the floor above and then we shlepped them down. Smart. We arrived to the alarming news that the residents had been informed just that morning (notice pasted near the entrance) that for the next 10 days the pipes in the building would be replaced/repaired and thus for that time there would be no hot water. From 9 am to 6 pm there would also be no cold water.

Russians accept these things without complaint; stuff like this is just life as they know it.

Kids were delighted with all the goodies in our bags. Especially the chocolate.

Next day was preparation for Shabbos with no water. Highlight of the day was running out an hour before Shabbos to take a room at the Intourist Hotel, where we, Rony and I, could avail ourselves of their service of "registering", a mysterious procedure whereby foreigners register their presence in the city, something required of them. The main point of the hotel room however, was to take a shower, which 6 of us did in under an hour.

On Shabbos day (Saturday) Chayale and I took a walk to the city center, taking Miriam with us. Poor calculation on our part: we went too far, since we were not allowed to carry her on Shabbos she had to walk all the way back. I felt a little bit like a child abuser. In the city center is a park, with Lenin Square beyond it (more on this later). Happened to be 'Stavropol Day' so the park was full of people. Our English conversation and clothing stood out, but since the Russians are reserved, rarely overcoming an ingrained culture of minding one's own business to initiate a conversation with a stranger, we were left alone.

Curious cultural event of that walk. Everyone smokes. Women, men, 10-yr-old boys. So we ran into a group of about a dozen teenage s who had been clothed in matching black jeans, short hot pink trench coats and matching hot pink canvas briefcases. Coats and briefcases were emblazoned with the word "Kiss". Took us awhile, but finally we discovered that Kiss is a cigarette brand. We got to watch the s approach hunky young men (and their friends) in the park and offer them cigarette samples and lighters. Chayale was really disappointed we weren't offered because she quickly began practicing how to say "Kissing someone who smokes is like licking an ashtray" in Russian. She just wasn't sure about the ashtray part.

I thought Stavropol would look like a European city, poor, but definitely European. It did not. It looked Asian. The city is a patchwork of ugly aging Soviet apartment houses (none more than 6 stories) sticking up amongst tiny one-story decrepit shacks. I mean, imagine, the Ree Heights Implement store- as it looks now- that's the state of these buildings. Only people live in them. They're not peeling white paint. They're grey stone. With curved styled Russian shutters- as though cut from a stencil. Occasionally, there will be a brand-new sparkling building, startling and throwing all the rest into brown contrast.

Next day was celebration day.

Bit of background. Lot of ethnic groups in Stavropol. Chechnyans, Armenians, Moslems, Cossacks, ethnic Russians, Kazakhs, etc. Different from our ethnic groups in NY (didn't see a single black face in Russia), since all of these are indigenous to the area. They are not far from home, in other words.

Likewise, there is a Jewish ethnic group in the area- called Mountain Jews. They are actually Sephardi (Oriental Jews with Oriental Jewish customs), and their ethnic home is in the Caucaucus Mountains to the immediate south of Stavropol. They have their own customs and apparently those who still live in the mountains are quite traditional and have weathered the Communist years better than the rest of Russian Jewry. Many, however, have come down into the cities in the area, and are relatively assimilated (though not to the same extent as other Russian Jews).

Footnote: While we were waiting for our luggage in Mineralyne Vodi we met a Mountain Jew who had left the area for NY right after perestroika. Once in NY he met and married a non-Jew. His mother and sister eventually also came to NY, took an apartment next door to him and never once in nearly 20 years have spoken to him (because of the inter-marriage). He was returning now to the homeland to visit his grandfather, hoping that he would be accepted.

Zvi's brief is really for all of Stavropol krai (province)- an area that extends all the way to neighboring Georgia. He has made contact with Jewish communities in several other towns in the province, but he assured me that it wasn't safe, and he wouldn't, travel in the extreme southeast of the province. Thank G-d.

Anyway, living in Stavropol is a clan of these Mountain Jews, who own, collectively, a restaurant in the city. This family, the Solomonovs, donated the use of their restaurant for the celebration and allowed Rony and Zvi to come kasher (make kosher) the facilities. They surely got more than they bargained for; we think they probably thought Zvi would just come and make a blessing on the place. The boys were there Sunday 6 am and put the poor Solomonovs through a crash course on kashrus. They were real sports though, and even though Rony couldn't speak English they became pals through sign language.

The event was scheduled to begin at 3. The crowd showed up at 2:30!! Unheard of in NY: they beat us to the hall. Beautiful lay-out, delicious food, and a huge crowd. Chayale and Zvi had no idea what to expect, this being their first big do. What a shock when eventually something like 300 people showed up. Can't begin to tell you what a miracle this number is. Russian Jews, especially in the farther provinces, are submerged, quiet, totally assimilated. All the publicity for this event was word-of-mouth. But they came, and they stayed.

Must also say that Chayale's and Zvi's organization was flawless. The thing was perfectly thought out, no detail omitted. And they work really well together. We were very proud of them.

Unfortunately, there was a hiccup- not their fault. The sefer Torah was coming from Moscow by airplane, accompanied by the scribe who had written it, the speaker (a talented rabbi from the city) and Eli and Peter, the donors. For some reason, typical in Russia, the plane was diverted from Mineralynye Vodi (2 hrs. drive) to Krasnodar (4 hrs. drive). They would be late- very late. Also, the rabbi in Krasnodar (they are the closest religious family) was on his way with a few extras and their car had broken down. They would be late- very late. But the crowd held. Finally, an hour and a half late, the visiting dignitaries arrived and we had a very emotional and exciting ceremony.

The ceremony is called hachnasos Sefer Torah. It means 'welcoming the Torah scroll'. It is preceded by the finishing of the writing of the scroll. The scroll is written with a goose quill, with specially prepared ink, written on a parchment made of calf-skin. The letters have to be written in an exact method of calligraphy, and according to numerous laws. In this ceremony, the scribe left the last 40 letters to be "completed" by honorees. In truth, he writes the letters, the honorees just touching his hand to participate. It was a heart-stopping moment to watch Jews who really know nothing about Judaism, who really only know that they are Jewish and that they want to do this Jewish thing, cluster around the scribe, eager to have their turn. They were really so proud to have their own sefer Torah. With a sefer Torah, they can have a synagogue in the city again, with services on Shabbos and festivals. With a sefer Torah, they are a community again. Once again, Jewish life rises out of the ashes of those who wished to do them in.

After the Torah was completed, everybody boarded buses (provided by Zvi and Chayale) and cars to go to the Jewish center, to bring the sefer Torah to its home. The center is located near the center of the city right near a city landmark. There is a large stone arch called "The Gateway to the Caucacus". There we got out and danced in the street with the scroll and then walked a half block down to the center, where the ceremony ended with a special service and more refreshments.

During the time when we were outside dancing, the locals gathered at the edges of our group and stared. I'm not sure they even understood what they saw, that these were Jews. I'm quite sure they didn't understand the significance; that these were Jews returned to public Jewish life again. Rony saw one group of local boys draw up, stare and cross themselves. Guess they must have understood something.

Grand success. Very moving and we're really proud of these two. The community LOVES them.

Monday we got out late, but we toured the city and bought souvenirs for the kids. Went on a wild goose chase for a samovar for me. Will have to resume the search next visit. A few highlights. In the center of the city is Lenin Square- a huge and empty space. I've never seen anything like it in an American city, nor in England. A vast, windy space. On one side a provincial government building with a large statue of Lenin (still standing). One the opposite side sits the city museum/library. Zvi wanted to show us the ancient Torah scroll confiscated by the Communists some 80 years ago from the old (defunct) synagogue. This scroll is downstairs in the museum basement, in a closet, in an old cardboard tube. It needed visiting. (He visits it regularly.) Unfortunately we arrived at closing time; they said no way, and in Russia, a rule is a rule. However, Zvi quickly explained that outside is a visiting dignitary, the Chief Rabbi of New Jersey (he may actually have said the Chief Rabbi of America) who wishes to see the scroll.

Well, it appears that visiting dignitaries trump rules in Russia. So we saw the scroll, and were so happy that its exile has been redeemed, so to speak, by a new compatriot safely housed just a few blocks away in the Jewish center.

Zvi seems to be really big on the visiting dignitary thing. He really wanted to be able to present us to the provincial governor as visiting dignitaries, giving him an audience and an opportunity to request certain facilities. Unfortunately, the provincial governor was detained in jail during our visit on some sort of embezzlement charge.

Maybe next time.

As evening drew on, we went to what seemed to be the highest point in the city. There is another park at this location, with a World War II memorial and a look-out over the city (pretty at night-fall when we saw it- you can't see the grays and browns- like Manhattan at night, gorgeous with the lights when you can't see the grime and crowds). Big plaza there, one side of which is ted by a graceful old building that was, before the Revolution and before religion became a crime, the Jewish synagogue. A big building, it is testament to what Jewish life there must have once been like.

I was busy snapping pics of the synagogue and a historic wall around it, when three burly, husky, scary-looking guys hustled up to me and told me something in Russian. Zvi hurried over and translated that they were telling me I can't take pictures. What do they mean I can't take pictures. I'm an American, I can do what I want! I blurt out, real confrontational, "Why not?" Zvi shushes me up, does some explaining to the guys, gestures to my husband standing at the synagogue entrance, and moves me away. Apparently, the head of the regional Mafia lives next door to the synagogue. No pictures, you understand. And they mean no pictures. I got it. Zvi smoothed it all over with them by explaining that that guy over in the entrance to the synagogue is the Chief Rabbi of…

An exciting trip. We were off to home the next day.

Chabad.org now

http://www.chabad.org/news/article_cdo/aid/748520/jewish/Russian-City-Witnesses-Torah-Procession.htm

Now we hit shmais

http://shmais.com/pages.cfm?page=archivenewsdetail&ID=49539&continue=news

In the picture is Cafe Kavcheg, where the ceremony was held for the Torah.

Rosh Hashana report next!