Window on the Former Soviet Union
With a soft smile, Paulina Kotsubey passed the potatoes across the red-and-white checkered tablecloth to Maya Kaganskaya. It was a natural act of affection and courtesy between two retired Ukrainian Jewish women who last year were hungry and lonely.
Now, twice a week they meet with nine other new-found friends in the Kiev flat of Kira Begelman for companionship and a hot lunch through the "warm home" program of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (JDC).
It is a simple concept with stunning results across the former Soviet Union -- hundreds of small groups of older Jews meet regularly in someone's home for hot meals and to celebrate Jewish festivals. These meals, which are subsidized by the JDC, reverse the social isolation and fend off the hunger that imperil these Jews, many of whom are survivors.
The condition of the Jewish elderly has severely deteriorated since the breakup of the Soviet Union, especially in the former Jewish Pale of Settlement. Severe economic problems, the collapse of social services and mass emigration have left many older Jews destitute and isolated. Of the 600,000 Jewish elderly in the former Soviet Union, according to JDC estimates, more than 200,000 live in poverty, are in poor health, and have no relatives nearby to assist them.
The "warm homes" program is one of a network of welfare and social services organized by the JDC throughout the former Soviet Union and run through local "Hesed" centers. These centers, which vary according to local needs, are based on a model that stresses professionalism, volunteerism and Jewish values. Each Hesed center is governed by a local board that sets policies and priorities.
"This is an essential part of community building," said Michael Schneider, JDC's Executive Vice President. "Traditional kehilot in the Pale of Settlement always contained an element of welfare services."
The "warm home" program creates family-like circles. "We help one another. When someone is sick, we get them medicine, take them a meal," said Paulina Kotsubey.
A retired bookkeeper, she lives on a pension of $30 a month, much of which is used to pay her rent. Having lunch in the homey Begelman flat is a comfortable way to get food assistance with dignity and to enjoy the company of Kaganskaya, once a teacher of Ukrainian language and literature. Seated at one end of the table, Boris Alhof, an engineer, and his wife, Ida Alhova, a geologist, want to tell their friends about their vacation -- to Bulgaria, some 20 years ago. Others speak about their children, most of whom have emigrated.
Most of the "warm homes" are organized by proximity, among groups of Jews who live in the vicinity. In some cities, though, the "vicinity" covers quite a bit of ground. Some at the Begelman flat have traveled for a half-hour on public transport to get there. Other "warm homes" are organized by special needs, such as those for diabetics, which take into account their special diets.
Being the host of this "warm home" ensures that Kira Begelman also will eat. She was five years old when World War II broke out, and what she remembers is a terrifying flight from Kiev to Stalingrad, and hunger.
"After the war I ate everything I could. I could not throw out a crumb," she says. When she returned to Kiev in 1944, "it was the same hunger. Then in 1946, there was a famine here."
An afternoon at the Begelman flat shows that what began as a food-assistance program has evolved into something more meaningful. While she serves a meal of soup, salad, potatoes and fish, Kira Begelman gestures around the table toward her friends.
"I'm thankful for them," she says. "They helped me survive a hard time since my mother died."
By Marilyn Henry
