Uncategorized
The founder of Peru’s only Jewish bakery looks to educate non-Jews through food — and Instagram stories
LIMA, Peru (JTA) — The story of Lima’s only Jewish bakery begins on Christmas.
On the eve of the holiday in 2016, Deborah Trapunsky was baking challah for a non-Jewish friend who wanted a unique gift for her boyfriend. Her friends had always loved her challah, and she enjoyed sharing this aspect of her culture with them. But on that night, Trapunsky figured that she would see if anyone else would be interested in some challah to go with their Christmas dinner. So she posted on Facebook.
The response was overwhelming.
Trapunsky ended up receiving nearly 100 orders, and without a professional oven, she barely kept up with the demand. Using her parents’ small kitchen to complete the orders, Trapunsky said that she had to “colonize” her parents’ apartment — using every countertop to knead dough, laying out challahs throughout the rooms to cool down and then packaging them.
As she drove around Lima on Christmas day completing all the deliveries, as the majority of Peruvians were celebrating with their families, Trapunsky hatched a plan to turn the unexpected response into a business.
“I was really surprised when the orders started to grow and grow,” she said. “I had no idea about anything, no idea how much challah I could bake, no idea how to do the packaging…but that’s how it all started.”
She named her creation Oh-jalá — a bit of wordplay, as “ojala” means “I hope” and jalá is the Spanish word for challah, the braided Ashkenazi bread traditionally made on Shabbat and holidays.
Seven years after that Christmas Facebook post, the bakery has moved from a cramped 120-square-foot kitchen to a 1,200-foot brick and mortar space that opened in 2020 in a garage of an old colonial home in the posh neighborhood of San Isidro.
Trapunksy, who is 30, has gone from selling four flavors of challah to 12 — including vegan and nutella varieties — and has expanded from only selling challah to offering coffee, hamantaschen (for Purim), a variety of sweetbreads and even bagels. (She made sure to add the disclaimer that hers are not on par with New York bagels but that they suffice for the traveler in Peru who is craving the Jewish-American staple).
Over the years, Trapunsky’s clientele has also shifted from mostly Jewish customers — who found her after the initial Christmas rush — to mostly non-Jews. She therefore sees Oh-jalá as more than a job: it’s her attempt to combat stereotypes, encourage the integration of Jews into Peruvian society, and perhaps most importantly, it’s her attempt to forge a unique Jewish-Peruvian identity for herself.
The bakery is housed in a garage of an old colonial home in the posh neighborhood of San Isidro. (Courtesy of Deborah Trapunsky)
“Here in Peru people like ‘different’ [cultures and cuisines], and being Jewish in Peru is very different,” Trapunsky said. “And I really enjoy having a bakery that exists at the intersection between this minority community and the larger Peruvian world.”
Jewish Peruvians make up fewer than .01% of the country’s population of 34 million and are mostly concentrated in the capital Lima. Trapunsky and her family are currently close with other members of the community here, but they didn’t always fit in.
Like many South American Jews, her family mostly descends from Eastern Europe. Before 1998, they lived in Chile, but looking to leave financial struggles behind, the Trapunskys left for Peru. Siblings, parents, cousins, aunts and uncles all lived together in an old house in Lima. Trapunsky recalled these memories fondly, as she was only a child and enjoyed being with her cousins. But she also remembers the tension between her parents and uncles and aunts, as their economic hardships were compounded by feeling like outcasts among Lima’s Jews.
Oh-jalá includes bagels on the menu. (Courtesy of Deborah Trapunsky)
Lima’s Jewish community of around 2,000 is very wealthy, and the Trapunskys came to Peru with almost nothing. Starting from scratch, they had to fight for a place within a community that Deborah describes as “hermetic.” She spent much of her childhood feeling like she didn’t belong in the traditional but not Orthodox community that was supposed to embrace her. It made her bitter.
“The Jewish community here is very closed-minded. When [my family] arrived in Peru, we didn’t have any money…I was young but I remember feeling the struggle of my family trying to exist in an unwelcoming community,” Trapunsky said. “So although I’ve always felt grateful for being Jewish and for the Jewish community here, I also have always felt a little resentment.”
After graduating from Peru’s only Jewish high school, she went to university and immersed herself in the non-Jewish world. She quickly discovered that the majority of Peruvians know very little about Jewish people, and what they do know is often based in stereotypes and anachronisms. She often tried to educate her peers about Jewish holidays, traditions and food, and through that process felt more Jewish than she ever had.
“Sharing my culture with friends helped me discover what made me feel Jewish. When I was only spending time with other Jews, I lost the ability to identify myself by contrasting myself to others,” she said. “But being immersed in Peru’s secular world gave me the opportunity to connect to my Judaism in a very different way.”
She added that she thinks the insularity of Lima’s Jewish community leads non-Jewish Peruvians to view the community with suspicion and reinforces negative stereotypes about Jewish people. With Oh-jalá, Trapunsky is trying to change that — to foster interaction between local Jews and others, and to show Peruvians how Jews enrichen their society.
Trapunsky is shown with some of her employees inside Oh-jalá. (Courtesy of Deborah Trapunsky)
“Food is a safe and secular space,” she said. “It gives me the opportunity to share cultural information in a non-political manner.”
But Oh-jalá’s physical space is not the only tool that Trapunsky uses in her mission — she also uses the bakery’s Instagram account to educate Peruvians about Judaism. With more than 18,000 followers, she does educational Instagram stories on Sukkot, Pesach, and other Jewish holidays. She even did an Instagram live video on “Judaism 101.” In a series of highlighted stories on her page, she talked about topics ranging from the fasting on Yom Kippur to why Jews don’t celebrate Christmas to, of course, the origins of challah.
As a result, she has received hundreds of positive direct messages from Peruvians eager to learn more about the religion and compare Judaism to their own Catholicism. She said this was her exact goal.
“I want to overturn the hermetic reputation of the Jewish community and turn it into something accessible, open to the public, and even trendy,” she said. “I want everyone in Peru to be able to get to know us… and explore our culture.”
Starting Oh-jalá has also helped her let go of the resentment. She now not only feels more secure in her identity as both Peruvian and Jewish, but also more of a valued member in the Lima Jewish community.
As the financial success continues, Deborah is focused on the future. She wants to franchise her bakery and plans to open another one on the other side of the city.
Ever the entrepreneur, she also made sure to tell the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that she’s looking for investors — and for a Jewish boyfriend.
—
The post The founder of Peru’s only Jewish bakery looks to educate non-Jews through food — and Instagram stories appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
To Prevent Antisemitism in Schools Like Berkeley, Enforce the Rules Already on the Books
Illustrative: Demonstrators holding a “Stand Up for Internationals” rally on the campus of the University of California, Berkeley, in Berkeley, California, US, April 17, 2025. Photo: Carlos Barria via Reuters Connect.
At California’s Berkeley High School (BHS), teachers are interrupting their normally-scheduled classroom lessons to talk about the Iran war.
Given the Berkeley school district’s dismal record on antisemitism, will BHS once again become a venue for Israel-bashing, or even conspiracy theories that Israel manipulated the United States into attacking Iran? If signs of such activity emerge, what can be done to stop it?
Part of the solution — at least at the K-12 level — is simple: state and local governments must ensure that school districts enforce pre-existing constitutional constraints, state educational codes, and school district rules that prohibit indoctrination in the classroom.
Of course, that is not always so easy. One teachers’ group held a teach-in to address the purported causes of the October 7 attack, during which they shared curricular materials such as a guide to “settler colonialism” that defines Hamas as “a resistance movement” and tells students the United States only calls Hamas a terrorist organization because of its “measures against the occupation.”
Materials like these then make their way into BHS classrooms. One history teacher, who reportedly used antisemitic stereotypes in class, showed an anti-Israel video and required her students to respond to the prompt: “To what extent should Israel be considered an Apartheid State?”
When Jewish students complained, the Berkeley Unified School District (BUSD) simply transferred them out of her class. Also at BHS, according to the Brandeis Center complaint, an art teacher reportedly showed the class “violent, pro-Hamas videos.” The teacher also allegedly promoted student walkouts and demonstrations, and projected antisemitic images such as a fist punching through a Star of David. Jewish students were again transferred to a new class, only to find their new teacher wore Free Palestine stickers on her clothing.
What’s especially disturbing about these incidents is that the BUSD already has a policy in place to prevent this kind of ideological offensive material in the classroom. According to BUSD’s “Policy 6144: Controversial Issues,” when a teacher chooses to address such a subject, they should “ensure that all sides of a controversial issue are impartially presented,” and, “The teacher may not use his/her position to forward his/her own historical, religious, political, economic or social bias.”
According to a Supreme Court decision in Garcetti v. Ceballos (2006), such rules are consistent with freedom of speech because, when public employees are carrying out their official duties, their speech does not have the same First Amendment protection as private citizens. State governments have implemented regulations based on this principle.
Texas Educational Code § 28.0022 states that when teachers discuss a controversial topic of public policy, they should “explore that topic objectively and in a manner free from political bias.” Moreover, the code stipulates that teachers cannot assign tasks to students that involve political advocacy.
Similarly, the Florida State Board of Education issued Florida Administrative Code, Rule 6A-10.081, which stipulates that teachers shall not “unreasonably deny a student access to diverse points of view” or “intentionally distort or misrepresent facts concerning an educational matter.”
Yet without enforcement, such policies have little value.
BUSD parents have lodged more than 100 complaints of violations targeting Jewish students. Now, both the US Department of Education and the House of Representatives’ Education and Workforce Committee are investigating antisemitism in the BUSD. Parents have also brought a civil rights lawsuit against the district.
Clearly, school districts across the country should be enforcing policies against propaganda and bigotry in the classroom. But changing the ways of a resistant school district like BUSD is easier said than done. It will entail investigating and then educating the community about existing laws, rules, and codes pertaining to teachers’ speech and conduct. And it will involve persuading parents and students to work with civil rights groups and the local, state, and Federal governments to hold public teachers and administrators accountable.
Our country relies on its schools to endow students with the skills necessary for critical thinking and independent thought. If teachers themselves cannot rise above their prejudices and partisan sentiments, then American schools are not likely to turn out students resistant to conspiracy theories and propaganda.
Naomi Friedman is an Education Fellow at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies.
Uncategorized
Who Owns the Story? Israel Needs Images and Messages That Match the Palestinian Narrative
Protestors in Melbourne unfurl a watermelon banner in solidarity with Palestinian ‘resistance.’ (Photo: Screenshot)
In today’s hyperconnected world, legitimacy is no longer determined solely by history books or diplomatic recognition. It is shaped, distilled, and often distorted in the fast-moving currents of digital culture. Narratives are no longer argued — but they are absorbed, shared, and symbolized. And increasingly, they are decided not by depth, but by clarity and repetition.
For many who support Israel, this presents a growing challenge. The issue is not a lack of historical grounding or factual legitimacy. It is that these truths are not being communicated with the same force, simplicity, and creativity as competing narratives. In a landscape driven by visuals and emotion, complexity alone does not win attention.
At the heart of the matter lies an enduring reality: the Jewish connection to the land of Israel is ancient, continuous, and foundational. It predates modern political frameworks and is rooted in centuries of cultural, religious, and historical presence. This is not a claim constructed in recent decades; it is a defining element of Jewish identity itself.
Yet historical continuity does not automatically translate into contemporary resonance. In the digital arena, meaning is often assigned through symbols that travel faster than context. One of the more curious examples of this phenomenon is the rise of the watermelon as a political emblem.
Today, the image is widely recognized as associated with pro-Palestinian expression. But its origins are neither exclusive nor inherently political. The fruit itself traces back thousands of years to regions of Africa, long before it became entangled in modern symbolism. Its eventual adoption as a visual shorthand was shaped by circumstance, not destiny.
Rather than dismissing or avoiding widely circulated symbols, there is an opportunity to engage with them differently — and to embed them with alternative narratives. The goal is not to negate others, but to assert presence within the same visual language.
Currently, one of the obstacles facing pro-Israel advocacy is not a lack of material, but a lack of cohesion. Messaging often emerges reactively, responding to trends rather than shaping them. Meanwhile, opposing narratives benefit from clarity, emotional appeal, and visual uniformity.
That imbalance can be addressed by approaching communication not only as a matter of accuracy, but of strategy.
Facts remain essential — but in a digital environment, they must be paired with compelling storytelling and recognizable imagery. A well-crafted symbol can reach audiences that a detailed explanation never will.
Reframing something as simple as a watermelon is not about the object itself. It is about demonstrating that meaning is not fixed, and that narratives are not surrendered unless they are abandoned. Because ultimately, the question is not just who holds the stronger argument. It is who communicates it in a way that resonates.
To shape understanding, one must also shape the story.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.
Uncategorized
I’m a UMich Student: All Countries Are Welcome — Except Israel
Law enforcement clash with pro-Hamas demonstrators at the University of Michigan on Aug. 28, 2024. Photo: Brendan Gutenschwager/X
Tea time is my favorite part of each week. As the tea chair for the historic Martha Cook Building, an all-women’s dorm at the University of Michigan in operation since 1915, I have the joy of planning and hosting our weekly Friday teas.
Out of all our building traditions, International Tea is one of the most popular. Martha Cook residents (affectionately nicknamed “Cookies”) sign up to represent a country, and host a table offering information and a cultural snack. Friends are invited, foods from across the world are tasted, and on-campus cultural groups perform.
As I did last year, I signed up to represent Israel. I’m a Jewish student who is heavily involved in the pro-Israel community on campus, so naturally, Israel is the country I chose to showcase. The Monday before International Tea, the flags from each country went up. I smiled as I passed the Israeli flag on my way out of the building.
When I came back from the day’s classes, the Israeli flag was gone. I notified the Martha Cook House Board.
Fast forward to that Friday: the day of International Tea. After our weekly House Board meeting concluded, a representative from MHousing called me into another room.
“I just wanted to let you know before you set up for tea that someone has defaced your board.”
That morning, I was already worried that my Israel board (a tri-fold that each participant makes, celebrating the country’s culture) had been set up too early, since I had a feeling that someone might do something like that.
“What did they write?” I asked, “Free Palestine? Genocide? Apartheid?”
“No, they wrote, ‘Notable resident: Epstein.’”
That was not what I expected. Jeffrey Epstein has nothing to do with Israel. But that’s the logic now: lump together anything even remotely perceived as related to Judaism and pin the guilt on the Jewish State. On today’s campus, every grievance is interconnected — except, apparently, the one about Jews being targeted.
Police reports had already been filed for both the flag theft and the vandalism. This was just the icing on the cake for a week that had included both the official passing of a BDS resolution in our student government and the election of a new student body president who ran with the slogan, “Free laundry, free Palestine.” I would not be surprised if these anti-Israel “successes” emboldened the actions of the Martha Cook flag thief and vandal.
When I chose to represent Israel, I chose to represent a culture. I made no comment on the government nor any conflict. The reaction to the Israeli flag simply being displayed and the vandalism on my board are indicative of what campus has been like.
Since I first stepped on campus in August of 2023, I have found myself in an environment that emphasizes feelings over facts and political correctness over discussion. Even before the October 7th attacks, the campus culture was one in which it was taboo to push back on anything that did not fall into the popular narratives. The aftermath of October 7th pushed this to the next level.
Before Israel even responded to Hamas’ attack, protesters were calling Israel genocidal and advocating for the destruction of the country “from the river to the sea.” Thousands of students with no prior knowledge of Middle Eastern history or connection to the conflict began hopping on the anti-Israel bandwagon and marching around as “social justice” warriors.
The 2023-24 school year was the most divided, hostile environment I have experienced. When my friends or I tried to have conversations with people who were tagging along with the anti-Israel groups, we were either turned away, ignored, or had anti-Zionist buzzwords yelled at us. No one engaged with what we were actually saying. They just repeated slogans.
As campus calmed down, the performative activists largely moved on to trendier issues. But the small, dedicated group of anti-Israel agitators remains an active and insidious force.
There will always be those who are against us. What matters is that we, the Jewish community and our allies, stand up for the truth and for what is right. We must keep ourselves educated on the conflict. We must continue to host pro-Israel programming. We must have conversations when we can, respectfully engaging with those who disagree with us. We must do all of this while attending classes, keeping up with our studies, and cheering on our amazing Michigan sports teams (Go Blue!).
In a time when the future looks uncertain, I remain hopeful. Despite all of the hate directed at the Jewish community, I look around and see young, strong Jewish leaders stepping up and making a difference. We strive to be a light among the nations, and we are not going anywhere.
Addison Stone is a junior at the University of Michigan studying War & Conflict Studies and Theatre. She serves on the boards of Students Supporting Israel, Wolverine for Israel, and Michigan Israel Public Affairs Committee.