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‘There was no time to sleep’: 4 Jews reflect on a year of helping Ukrainians at war
(JTA) — In the months after Russian tanks rolled into her country last February, the music largely stopped for Elizaveta Sherstuk.
The founder of a Jewish choral ensemble called Aviv in her hometown of Sumy, in the northeastern flank of Ukraine, Sherstuk had to put singing aside in favor of her day job and personal mission: delivering aid to Jews in Sumy.
“There was no time to sleep,” Sherstuk recalled to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency recently. “All my team members worked the same, 24/7.”
A year later, Sherstuk is still hustling as the Sumy director of Hesed, a network of welfare centers serving needy Jews in the former Soviet bloc. But she has also begun teaching music classes again, too — with performances sometimes held in bomb shelters.
Catch up on all of JTA’s Ukraine war coverage from the last year here.
Sherstuk’s story reflects the ways that Russia’s war on Ukraine has affected Jews in Ukraine and beyond. The conflict has killed hundreds of thousands, left even more in peril and fundamentally altered the landscape and population of Ukraine, forcing millions to flee as refugees.
But the war has also mobilized the networks of Jewish aid and welfare groups across Europe, leading to a Jewish organizational response on a massive scale not seen in decades. And Ukrainian Jews who have remained in the country have recalibrated their lives and communities for wartime.
Here are four stories about Jews who stepped in and stepped up to help, and a taste of the on-the-ground situations they found themselves in.
‘I was needed there’
Enrique Ginzburg, second from right, is shown with Ukrainian doctors in Lviv. (Courtesy of Ginzburg)
Since nearly drowning at 23, Dr. Enrique Ginzburg has felt he “had to pay back” for the extra years of life he was granted.
Now 65, the professor of surgery at the University of Miami’s Miller School of Medicine and its trauma division has lent his critical care expertise in Haiti, Argentina, Kurdistan and Iraq, in various emergency situations. But until last year, he had never been to a war zone.
The Cuba native felt drawn to Ukraine because his grandfather is from Kyiv, while his grandmother is from nearby eastern Poland. So early on in the conflict, he called Dr. Aaron Epstein, an old friend and the founder of the nonprofit Global Surgical and Medical Supply Group.
“Get yourself a flak jacket, a helmet, a gas mask and come on over,” Ginzburg said Epstein told him.
He has been to Ukraine twice under the nonprofit’s auspices, last April and July. Ginzburg’s explanation for why he flew across the world to put himself in danger: “I was needed,” he said.
His base was an emergency hospital in Lviv, a city located west enough that it became a major refugee hub. He consulted with front-line Ukrainian physicians, many of them young and inexperienced, and hospital administrators, watching the doctors in action. He also visited patients in hospital wards and helped to treat gunshot wounds and assorted combat injuries.
Ginzburg’s bags were packed with meaningful supplies. Some had been requested by his Ukrainian colleagues for medical use, mostly specialized catheters. But he also brought tefillin, the phylacteries used by Jews in their morning prayers. Ginzburg, who studied in a yeshiva while young but no longer considers himself Orthodox, wrapped them every day while in Ukraine.
Even though Lviv was far from the fighting, he could hear air raid sirens and the explosion of the Russian missiles, sometimes feeling the earth shake. When intelligence reports warned Ginzburg’s medical team of impending missile attacks, they sought refuge in safe houses.
“Today,” he told the Miami Herald last June, “I was calling my life insurance [company] because I have young sons and my wife, so I’m trying to make sure I have good coverage.”
By the end of his trips, Ginzburg lost count of the number of doctors he helped train and the number of patients he saw. “I’m sure it’s hundreds.” He plans to make a third trip sometime this year.
‘This is our new reality’
Karina Sokolowska is the director of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee’s activities in Poland. (Courtesy of the JDC)
As the director of the JDC, or the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, in Poland, Karina Sokolowska has heard countless harrowing stories over the past year. But one sticks out in her memory.
It involved an elderly Ukrainian couple she met at the Poland-Ukraine border in late spring. The husband was in a wheelchair, and Sokolowska helped push him — back towards Ukraine. They had spent three months in a shelter in Poland but eventually “realized we cannot go looking for jobs, we cannot restart our lives. We are too old,” the woman said.
“If they are to die, they’d rather die back home,” Sokolowska said. “It’s a story of hopelessness. They are so vulnerable.”
Last year, about 8 million Ukrainian refugees made their way to Poland, the bordering country that accepted the most refugees. Early on in the conflict, Sokolowska contacted and visited Jewish communities throughout Poland, investigating the availability of places where the soon-to-be-homeless refugees could be housed. She also traveled to some of the border crossings where the Ukrainians entered, to arrange transportation to venues in Poland and to oversee the conditions in which the refugees would begin their new lives.
Later she would help with, among other things: arranging legal advice for the people who arrived with few identification documents; lining up medical care and drugs; finding them short- and long-term housing; connecting them to psychological counseling; providing kosher meals; and even caring for the refugees’ pets (“dogs and cats with no documents”).
According to JDC statistics, the organization “provided essential supplies and care” to 43,000 Jews in Ukraine and “aided 22,000+ people” there with “winter survival needs … more than double the amount served in previous years.” The welfare organization also claimed to provide “life-saving services” to more than 40,000 refugees in Poland, Moldova, Romania, Hungary, Bulgaria and other European locations. It also helped evacuate about 13,000 Jews from Ukraine. (Israeli Foreign Minister Eli Cohen recently said 15,000 Ukrainian Jews in total have immigrated to Israel since the start of the war.)
Karina Sokolowska, JDC director for Poland and Scandinavia sits in her office down the hall from a hotline room, in early March 2022. (Toby Axelrod)
At the height of the refugee flood, Sokolowska said her monthly JDC budget ballooned to more than what she previously spent in an entire year. Her office went from having a few employees to over 20. The amount of sleep she got decreased in tandem; she started taking sleeping pills to get rest when she could.
“This is our new reality” in Poland, she says of the JDC work with Ukrainian refugees. “This is our life now.”
Sokolowska, the granddaughter of Yiddish-speaking Holocaust survivors, became active in Jewish life during college, when a classmate heard her pronouncing some German words with a Yiddish accent and persuaded her to lead the Polish Union of Jewish Students. As JDC director for Scandinavian countries in addition to Poland, she typically organizes educational conferences and helps Jewish families learn about traditions they had not learned while growing up in the communist era.
Today, her sense of optimism has been ground down.
“Everything changed when war came to Ukraine — there is less hope,” Sokolowska said. “It’s a totally new everything. Every aspect of our life changed. Our hope for this to be over soon is going down, down, down. Nothing will change.”
‘It could [have been] me’
Tom and Darlynn Fellman volunteered in Krakow in October 2022. (Courtesy of Tom Fellman)
Sometime in the late 1890s, Harry Fellman, about 20 years old, left his home in Ukraine. According to family legend, he was a sharpshooter in the Ukrainian army and was about to be sent into active combat. Instead, he emigrated to the United States and settled in Omaha, Nebraska, where he became a peddler.
His grandson Tom Fellman — whose middle name is Harry — doesn’t know all the 120-year-old details, but he knows that he is grateful that Harry Fellman decided to leave Ukraine when he did.
“It could [have been] me, if my grandparents had not left when they did,” said Fellman, a successful real estate developer and philanthropist in Omaha.
In October, at 78 years old, Fellman made the reverse trip across the Atlantic to pitch in to the relief effort. He also wanted to pay what he sees as a debt to the memory of his late grandfather and to help the current generation of Ukrainian Jews.
He and his wife Darlynn served as volunteers for a week at the Krakow Jewish community center, joining hundreds (possibly thousands) of volunteers from overseas who have gone to Poland and the other nations in the region over the last year to participate in humanitarian programs on behalf of the millions of Ukrainian refugees. Fellman worked nine hours a day with a half-dozen fellow foreign volunteers in the basement of the community center, transferring the contents of “big, big” sacks of items like potatoes and sugar into small containers to be distributed to refugees in the building’s first-floor food pantry. His wife spent her time in an art therapy program that was set up for the refugee mothers and children to raise their spirits.
Fellman is “not particularly religious” but supports “anything Jewish.” In 1986, he accompanied a rescue mission plane of Soviet Jews headed to Israel. “It was the most rewarding experience of my life,” he recalled.
Fellman says he plans to return to Poland, in June, for the JCC’s annual fundraising bike ride from Auschwitz to Krakow.
What did his friends think of his septuagenarian volunteer stint? “They thought it was cool,” he said. “But none of them are going too.”
‘Everything was a risk’
Elizaveta Sherstuk runs a branch of Hesed, a network of welfare centers, in Sumy, Ukraine. (Courtesy of Sherstuk)
Sherstuk’s parents would have sent their daughter to a Jewish school in her early years if they had had the option. But Jewish education was not permitted In Sumy during the final years of communist rule in the Soviet republic. Sherstuk was exposed to Jewish life only at home.
Her parents infused her with a Jewish identity, she said, and her grandparents used to talk and sing songs in Yiddish. That inspired Sherstuk’s first career as a singer and a music teacher, during which she founded Aviv and took it on tour throughout the region singing traditional Jewish songs. Later, she became the director of Sumy’s branch of the JDC-funded Hesed network.
Sumy, an industrial city with a population of 300,000 before the war situated only 30 miles from the Russian border, was one of Russia’s first targets. In the days before the pending invasion, Sherstuk stockpiled food, which was certain to become scarce in case of war, and arranged bus transportation to safer parts of the country for hundreds of vulnerable civilians, mostly the elderly and disabled. The bus plan fell through for safety issues.
As the bombing started, it became dangerous for members of the local 1,000-member Jewish community, many of them elderly, to venture outside of their apartments. Sherstuk, working out of a bomb shelter, assisted by a Hesed network of volunteers, coordinated food and medicine deliveries.
The situation grew more dire, and she coordinated the Jewish community’s participation in a brief humanitarian corridor evacuation of vulnerable civilians that the Russians permitted. She communicated with Sumy residents mostly by smartphones provided by the JDC — the Russian attacks had cut the landlines — and accompanied the busloads of Sumy Jews to western Ukraine. Some of them eventually moved on to Israel, Germany, or other nearby countries, she said.
Sherstuk stayed in western Ukraine for a while (“The humanitarian corridors are only for one-way trips,” she noted), moving from place to place, keeping in touch with the Jews of Sumy and waiting for Ukraine’s army to make the trip back safe. But Sumy, like many Ukrainian cities, has come under frequent Russian rocket attack.
“Everything was a risk,” she said. “We were following whatever our hearts told us to do. We had to save people. I was the one who had to do it.”
Last May, Sherstuk was among 12 men and women (and the sole one from the Diaspora) who lit a torch at the start of Israel’s Independence Day in a government ceremony on Mount Herzl. During two weeks in Israel, she spent some time with members of her family, and held a series of meetings with JDC officials, government ministers and donors. “It was not a vacation,” she said.
After going back to Sumy, at the suggestions of her choral group members and fellow Sumy residents, she organized concerts in Hebrew, Yiddish, Ukrainian and Russian — some in person, some in a bomb shelter in the city’s central square, some online. She has now resumed her music classes, too, and it has all boosted morale. “I [teach] all the time,” she said.
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The post ‘There was no time to sleep’: 4 Jews reflect on a year of helping Ukrainians at war appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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In the pickles and babka of Williamsburg and the Lower East Side, a glimpse of a lost New York
It was an early Sunday morning when my grandmother and I arrived at Sander’s Bakery in South Williamsburg for a “Pickles and Babka” food and culture walk through Williamsburg and the Lower East Side.
Since 2024, Sammy, our leader, has been showing off his favorite kosher food spots on @kosher.hopping, an Instagram account, which now boasts more than 17,000 followers and features a variety of mouthwatering dishes — including kosher sushi, kosher smashburgers and historic businesses like the ones we would be visiting.
It was Sammy’s last stop in Williamsburg of the season: Business owners were already closing up shop for the summer and heading upstate.
As our group gathered — city natives along with visitors from Westchester and Long Island — Sammy described South Williamsburg as a glimpse of what the Lower East Side used to be. Unlike the Lower East Side, which has experienced gentrification in recent decades, this neighborhood has retained its distinctly Jewish identity since immigrants first crossed over the Williamsburg Bridge.
When my grandmother and I entered Sander’s, opened by a Holocaust survivor in 1959, the smell of yeast and chocolate was so tantalizing that we couldn’t help but purchase a Danish and cherry turnover before the tour even began. We then tried slices of chocolate and cinnamon babkas, which were rich and nutty.
As our group walked towards Flaum’s, an appetizing store reminiscent of Russ & Daughters, but kosher — buses lined the streets, each bound for a different yeshiva. There was a grocery store at each corner, shops with beautiful silverware and strings hung up to designate the eruv. At the shop, we sampled small cheese danishes and sugar cookies with custard. The cookies were my favorite “bite” of the tour; they were sweet with great texture, and the custard provided a necessary moistness.
When we walked to the subway to head to the Lower East Side, the neighborhood took a decidedly different turn. All at once, the local businesses and Yiddish signs were gone and replaced with fast food chains. As we climbed up the steps and the train pulled into the station, we returned to the city’s usual chaos, leaving Williamsburg behind.
Upon exiting the subway, we made a pit stop at Essex Street Market. Its origins stem from Jewish open air markets that were once crowded with pushcarts. Under Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, these sellers were forced to move inside. The original indoor market, located across the street from its present-day location, retained its Jewish character, but the market doesn’t currently house any kosher vendors.
As we continued on to our remaining stops, I felt aware of what was lost. Entering The Pickle Guys, located on the corner of Grand Street and Essex Street, a deliciously briny smell filled the air from the dozens of barrels at the center of the shop. We tried pickled corn and carrots and — my favorite — mango, which had a delightfully spicy aftertaste.
We could feel the presence of what was formerly “Pickle Alley”: the neighboring road that featured more than 80 vendors. Now, The Pickle Guys is the last pickle shop left in the Lower East Side. Even the pickles, made with plastic barrels, are not what they once were; Sammy told us that the New York Department of Health banned wooden barrels in the 1970s, and even now vendors swear that they don’t taste the same.
We ended our walk at Moishe’s Bakery, the last kosher bakery on the Lower East Side. Many Jews still live near the bakery; the community mikveh is in the building across the street. Until it closed this year, East Side Glatt, the neighborhood’s last kosher butcher, was located right next door to Moishe’s.
Though The Pickle Guys had been packed, Moishe’s felt intimate and at the center of a community, like the shops we visited in Williamsburg. We tried chocolate and poppy seed versions of Kokosh cake, loaves similar to babka that stem from Hungarian origins. We also picked up some of my dad’s favorite rainbow cookies to bring home with us.
After the tour, I made my way to Eldridge Street Synagogue’s “Egg Rolls, Egg Creams, and Empanadas” festival. On the way, I walked past the old Forward Building, which once bustled with whirring printing presses and Yiddish-speaking reporters. A large graffiti “JET” had been painted on the side of the building.
When I first came back to the city this year, my best friend texted me to ask whether I thought New York was changing. She felt that it had been modernizing; sometimes, she said, she looked around and couldn’t find the “old New York.” As I toured South Williamsburg and the Lower East Side, I felt as though I was looking into a bygone era, seeing remnants of what had mostly been lost. I would have given anything to return to the Lower East Side crowded with pushcarts and Yiddish music to be heard.
Still, as I listened to the singing trio of the Mamales crooning “Yidel Mitn Fiedel,” while the smell of empanadas filled the air and festivalgoers played Mah Jongg, the culture of the Lower East Side felt bustling and alive. The Lower East Side isn’t the neighborhood it had once been, but its legacy remains — in the people making babka and those who choose to share their story.
The post In the pickles and babka of Williamsburg and the Lower East Side, a glimpse of a lost New York appeared first on The Forward.
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Discover Your Ultimate Smooth at Sets on Corydon: Nanoplasty vs. Keratin vs. Japanese Straightening
Are you ready to wake up with flawless, effortless hair every single day? While standard straightening methods try to fit everyone into the same box, your hair has its own unique structure, strength, and history.
We offer three distinct, state-of-the-art smoothing and straightening systems. Finding the perfect match depends entirely on your hair type, your lifestyle, and your ultimate hair goals.
Here is exactly how they compare so you can choose the path to your most beautiful, resilient hair.
The Treatment Breakdown
1. The Elite Standard: Nanoplasty (Our Premier Selection)
Nanoplasty is a revolutionary, high-technical smoothing treatment that works at a deep cellular level. Using nanotechnology, nutrients and amino acids are deeply integrated right into the hair cortex (the inner core of the hair strand). It heals, seals, and straightens from the inside out without harsh chemicals.
- How it works: It uses an acidic formula triggered by specialized infrared heat to realign the hair bonds. It does not just coat the cuticle; it restructures it while infusing massive hydration.
- The Finish: Ultra-glossy, high-shine, sleek, and straight, while retaining natural movement and zero frizz.
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- Longevity: Lasts up to 4 to 6 months.
2. The Classic De-Frizzer: Keratin Treatment
The traditional choice for managing unruly texture. Keratin acts like a protective shield, filling in the cracks along a compromised or distressed hair cuticle (the protective outer layer).
- How it works: A liquid keratin formula is sealed into the outer layer of the hair with a flat iron.
- The Finish: Soft, smooth, and incredibly manageable. It reduces curl volume by roughly 50 to 70% and completely deletes frizz, but leaves some of your natural body and bounce.
- The Big Benefit: Ideal for hair that has undergone chemical stress or bleaching. It acts like a temporary protein bandage to restore softness and cut your blow-dry time in half.
- Longevity: Lasts 3 to 4 months, gradually washing out over time.
3. The Permanent Sleek: Japanese Straightening (Thermal Reconditioning)
For those who want absolute, pin-straight hair that defies high humidity and never reverts.
- How it works: This is a permanent chemical process that physically breaks down the internal bonds of the hair, which are then precision-ironed perfectly flat and neutralized to lock in the new shape forever.
- The Finish: Mirror-smooth, pin-straight, glassy hair with zero wave or curl.
- The Big Benefit: It is completely permanent on the hair that is treated. Rain, humidity, and workouts will not change it. Only your new root growth will need touching up.
- Longevity: Permanent (requires root touch-ups every 6 to 9 months).
Which One Is Right For You?
| Feature | Nanoplasty | Keratin Treatment | Japanese Straightening |
| Primary Goal | Deep cellular repair, sleek straightening, intense gloss. | Frizz elimination, volume reduction, softer texture. | Permanent, absolute pin-straight results. |
| Hair Condition | Healthy to moderately sensitized or colored hair. | Highly compromised, bleached, or heat-distressed hair. | Healthy, resistant, coarse, or virgin hair only. |
| Chemical Type | Amino acids & organic acids (No formaldehyde fumes). | Cuticle-coating formulas (May contain standard preservatives). | Traditional alkaline straightening solution. |
| Post-Care Window | Wash or style immediately. No waiting period. | Must wait 48 to 72 hours before washing or tying up. | Must keep completely dry and straight for 48 to 72 hours. |
An Important Note on Hair Integrity: Beautiful hair is healthy hair. Because Japanese Straightening permanently alters the internal architecture of the hair strand, it is completely unsuitable for heavily highlighted, bleached, or fragile hair. If your hair has a history of heavy chemical processing, a customized Nanoplasty or Keratin Treatment will give you the breathtaking, smooth results you want while respecting and preserving the strength of your hair structure.
Let’s curate your perfect look. Book a structural hair analysis with us today, and let’s design a smoothing protocol tailored exactly to your hair’s unique signature.
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Jewish groups plan to protest Ben-Gvir’s arrival in NYC. Will he show?
(New York Jewish Week) — Jewish groups are readying for the arrival of Israeli far-right Minister of National Security Itamar Ben-Gvir in New York City next week.
Several progressive Jewish organizations have planned a protest at a plaza outside the United Nations, where Israeli media reported that the minister would be attending a conference on policing. Meanwhile, other left-wing groups have planned their own demonstrations and circulated an open letter with thousands of signatures calling for State Attorney General Letitia James to prosecute Ben-Gvir for war crimes upon his arrival.
But it’s unclear whether Ben-Gvir is coming at all.
“To our knowledge, Minister Ben-Gvir is not coming to New York at the moment,” a staffer for the Consulate General of Israel in New York wrote the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in an email on Thursday.
Separately, a UN official confirmed to JTA on Thursday that Ben-Gvir was not yet registered for the UN Chiefs of Police Summit, which brings together ministers and law enforcement leaders from around the world. The conference is taking place on July 7 and 8, though it is still possible for him to register in the coming days.
Ben-Gvir, a highly controversial figure in Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s Cabinet, is the leader of the country’s far-right “Otzma Yehudit,” or “Jewish Power” party. Before he entered the Knesset he was convicted of supporting a terrorist group and other offenses, and since taking office he has advocated for policies such as renewed Jewish settlement in Gaza and has been sanctioned for allegedly “inciting extremist violence” against Palestinians in the West Bank.
Liberal Jewish groups have come out in vocal opposition to the idea of him setting foot in the Big Apple following Haaretz’s initial reporting that Ben-Gvir was coming.
“It’s really important for people, both American Jews and Israelis, to say that extremists like Ben-Gvir aren’t accepted in our community,” Rabbi Jill Jacobs, head of the progressive rabbinic human rights group T’ruah, told JTA in an interview. “He just doesn’t belong in New York, or in the Israeli government, or espousing his views anywhere in Jewish society,”
T’ruah is co-organizing a protest outside the UN’s summit on Tuesday, along with close to a dozen other liberal Jewish groups. Among them are New York Jewish Agenda, J Street, Israelis for Peace and the Union for Reform Judaism.
Jacobs said she believes the demonstration will be particularly impactful because it’s coming from “people who are not looking to destroy the state, who are not anti-Israel in any way,” but who envision a “place of both Israelis and Palestinians being safe.”
Another planned protest scheduled just hours later at the same plaza is being led by left-wing groups more sharply critical of Israel. Anti-Zionist group Jewish Voice for Peace is among the organizations promoting it. Their open letter calling on James to prosecute Ben-Gvir has more than 6,500 signatures.
The last time Ben-Gvir visited New York City, just over a year ago, his presence drew a series of heated protests and counter-protests. A few of them took place in Crown Heights, the neighborhood where he visited 770 Eastern Parkway, the headquarters of the Chabad Hasidic movement.
He also made pit stops at another Chabad institution and the gravesite of the movement’s late leader, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, as well as at a Midwood kosher restaurant, where he drew a friendlier crowd. A number of other planned events during that trip were canceled the week before.
The same coalition of liberal Jewish groups held a rally last year outside a Wall Street restaurant where Ben-Gvir was speaking. New York Rep. Jerry Nadler introduced legislation during that rally aimed at combating settler violence in the West Bank.
Margo Hughes-Robinson, who’s now the executive director of NYJA, co-emceed last year’s demonstration. She said in an interview on Thursday that she hopes that elected officials attend this year’s and make clear that “what he represents, and his worldview, is anathema to our Jewish values, it’s anathema to the vision of Israel that we support.”
Ben-Gvir was slated to make another trip to the U.S. more recently for a wedding, though he ended up canceling the trip after he was asked to provide his fingerprints in order to obtain a visa.
Unlike during Ben-Gvir’s last visit, New York’s mayor is now an anti-Zionist who has vowed to arrest Netanyahu if he steps foot in Israel due to his outstanding International Criminal Court arrest warrant, even though the US is not a party to the ICC. (There is no reported ICC arrest warrant for Ben-Gvir.) Following the election of Zohran Mamdani, Ben-Gvir described the result as “a moment when antisemitism triumphed over common sense.”
Mamdani’s spokesperson did not respond to a request for comment.
A number of local officials spoke out following the most recent appearance of a far-right Israeli minister in New York, condemning finance minister Bezalel Smotrich, who attended the Israel Day parade. None have weighed in so far on Ben-Gvir’s possible return next week.
The post Jewish groups plan to protest Ben-Gvir’s arrival in NYC. Will he show? appeared first on The Forward.
