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Heart to Heart
Camp Mountain Chai: A Mitzvah for Cuba's Jews

San Diego Jewish Times, January 27, 2006

By Gert Thaler

My good friend, Yardena, who lives in Tel Aviv, has just returned from a most interesting trip to Cuba. Last month we were at lunch on a Shabbat afternoon at the Sea and Surf in North Tel Aviv when she mentioned that she would be joining some friends, and after a stay in the Caribbean they would go to Havana.

Never being one to pass up an opportunity I quickly told Yardena about another close friend, Maria, who lives in Havana and with whom I nurture our friendship through e-mail and some personal visits here a few years ago. Those visits have ended since Maria no longer will be completing her goal of obtaining a Ph.D. degree in America or be able to visit San Diego or Miami, where some of her family is now living.

Yardena spoke in excited tones about meeting Maria since I had given her the e-mail contact that was the beginning link in this new relationship. By the time the plane landed, both women considered themselves involved in an established friendship and became even closer as the days progressed.

“Without Maria the trip would have been the usual tourist stuff,” Yardena told me. Our visit to the synagogue and to the Jewish people of Havana was the highlight, and in between tears and laughter once again we found that our Jewishness was the tie that bound us all together.

Maria is a Jew by choice, as are her two adult children, who rebelled in the early days of seeing their mother leave Catholicism for a new faith. As years progressed and they saw their mother’s life change because of her deep involvement within her new environment, they re-examined themselves and after much studying chose to follow their mother’s adopted religion. Both have become committed to their choice and have supported Jewish activities. For a few years the son lived in Israel, wed an Israeli and works for a prominent Jewish organization now in the U.S. Her daughter will receive her medical degree this year and remains with her mother.

The plight of the remaining 1,500 Jews in Cuba is just that. There are serious shortages of every commodity, but especially those of needed medicines. The lack of children’s vitamin products causes great concern as well. I had to laugh when I was told to include the lack of lox, cream cheese and a really good bagel as a necessity.

Yardena has promised to see that a supply of pharmaceuticals will be sent from Israel, and I suggested that I would begin to put together a giant care package, which someone from outside the U.S. will send for me, since tourist travel is still not possible from here. I have made those arrangements and my cooperative friend is awaiting the opportunity to become a part of this mitzvah.

If any of our readers have access to supplies I will warmly welcome the stuff and arrange for pickup if I get a phone call at 858-720-9111. I am not limited in size or weight. E-mailing will connect us; my address is gertt@sbcglobal.net

And, by the way, I am not going to send any lox or cream cheese or bagels since by the time the package arrives there would be a distinct odor announcing the contents.

Not satisfied to simply be the organizer and continuing “balaboste” within the small Jewish community, Maria has now launched a new project encompassing the lives of several Holocaust survivors residing throughout Cuba. She will interview and record their personal stories in a “Shoah” project to add to the saga of Cuba and its Jewish citizens.

And, by the way, according to Leo Rosten’s Joys of Yiddish, the female translation of “Baleboosteh” describes a female manager or bossy woman. A male interpretation, spelled “balebos” refers to “the head of the household or owner of a business.”

Rosten goes on to tell the “mizeh” about the newly arrived Jewish immigrant who entered a kosher restaurant on Delancey Street in New York and the waiter who poured his water was —“gottenyu! — Chinese! This waiter proceeded to rattle off the menu in fluent Yiddish with the idiomatic grunts, sighs and nu’s.”

When the Jew was paying his bill he asked the cashier, “Are you the “balebos?”

  “Who else?” was the reply.

 “Well, I certainly enjoyed my dinner — and even more, the fact that your waiter speaks such excellent Yiddish.”

  “Sha!” hissed the proprietor. “He thinks we’re teaching him English!”

The above was for a good laugh. I hope I succeeded. Now get serious and see if you can help to see that the Jewish families in need will maybe not laugh, but I am sure they will smile when our package arrives laden with hard-to-come-by vitamins and medicines. Samples are acceptable of any product. The best Yiddish word to describe such action is “mitzvah.”

And everybody knows the personal pleasure derived from such an act.