The youngest child sleeps in the arms of an older woman, wrapped in a blanket, a little boy, Tuvia, born in January. On Wednesday he left Odessa, the port city in Ukraine threatened by the Russian army, and arrived in Berlin on Friday. Along with 107 other children and young people, a dozen caregivers who escaped the war and are now sitting at long tables in a hall in the Jewish Education Center of the Chabad community in Wilmersdorf. A few are also running around in the hall, pre-school children with an urge to move. They told the little ones that they were all on some kind of trip together. So far this seems to be working. It’s her fourth day in Berlin and lunch is coming up.
Sitting at a table in the center are two rabbis, Abraham Wolff, head of the Jewish community of Odessa and southern Ukraine, and Yehuda Teichtal, chairman of Chabad Berlin. Wolff wanted to save the children of his community from the Russian war of aggression, Teichtal immediately agreed to take them in Berlin. Wolff also took care of the departure of another 120 women and children from his community from the war zone – they are on their way to Berlin – before he came here himself.
A couple from Berlin also came to eat. Frank-Walter Steinmeier, the German Federal President, and his wife Elke Büdenbender. The children and young people greeted them with a song as they entered the hall. Outside, in front of a couple of cameras, a journalist asked the Federal President why he wasn’t visiting the main train station, where thousands of refugees have been arriving for days. Steinmeier replied that it was important to him to thank the community for saving these children. Now he’s sitting at the table next to a little boy, and Astrid-Sabine Busse, Berlin’s education senator, is also there. Nobody makes speeches. What are you supposed to talk about on this day to a hall full of children, most of whom do not yet know that they are war refugees?
The news from Ukraine is grim. It’s the twelfth day since the attack. Odessa, the children’s homeland, could also be bombed at any moment, the Ukrainian government warns, as could the nearby city of Mykolaiv. There is fighting over the airport right now, according to the news. The city of Cherson, already occupied by the Russians, is only 200 kilometers away from Odessa. Southern Ukraine is one of the areas in the country where the greatest horror of the war is taking place.
The food is served in the hall, on the tables there are bottles of juice and water, but also Coca-Cola. When crockery falls down in a corner and breaks with a loud bang, the whole hall shouts: “Mazel tov!”, everyone laughs for a moment, the Berlin March sun illuminates the room.
The Federal President and his good questions
Some of the children and young people lived in the orphanage of the Jewish community Mishpacha Chabad in Odessa, where they stayed in the basement for the first few nights after their country was invaded. Others were sent on the journey by their parents. Tuvia, the baby who sleeps through lunch in the older woman’s arms, is not an orphan either. Jana Erdmann from the Chabad community, who helped prepare the children’s arrival in Berlin and has hardly left the group’s side since Friday, says his family is in Zaporizhia. Zaporizhia is the city with Europe’s largest nuclear power plant, which the fighting is said to have come dangerously close to. The older lady is a grandmother who came along, says Erdmann. Not the baby’s actually. But now she probably is.
Stephan Pramme
Susanna and Yaroslav in conversation with Frank-Walter Steinmeier, Elke Büdenbender and Yehuda Teichtal
“We are all a family, we are all siblings,” says Yaroslav. He is 16 years old and has just been talking to the Federal President for quite a while, along with Susanna, who is 18. When the group asked who spoke English and who dared to do so, the two of them answered.
They were nervous at first, they say. “But when we started talking, I felt good energy,” says Yaroslav. The President asked good questions.
Yaroslav says his Jewish name is Daniel, he is tall and wears a hooded sweatshirt. Her Jewish name is Shushana, says Susanna, a slim girl with a pale, serious face in a long dress.
The rabbi organized the departure
The first thing they want to talk about is their country, Ukraine. “We want to live freely,” says Susanna. “Our nation is very strong,” says Yaroslav. Everyone help everyone. The lines in front of the offices where volunteers can report for the defense of their homeland are incredibly long. He is so proud of his country. But he has also heard explosions in Odessa and has seen videos from Kharkiv and the other cities of the bombing raids. She didn’t understand what was happening, says Susanna. Why are schools attacked, homes?
They both found out on Tuesday a week ago that they would be leaving their country in a few hours and saying goodbye to their parents. “My mother said you’re going to Germany,” says Yaroslav. The rabbi said that if the parents agreed, the children would be taken abroad to safety. The families would have to send the papers of the children who are coming with them that same day. “I said I would definitely not go without my sister,” says Susanna. Two hours later she decided to go with us. She was afraid, but trusted her community, especially Abraham Wolff, the rabbi, who was like a father to everyone. Her sister came with her.
They left just after six on Wednesday morning. They met in front of the orphanage. The police helped them get across the border to Moldova quickly, some of the smaller children cried, it was hard to bear, Yaroslav says, but they, the older ones in the group, felt responsible for the little ones. Help where you can, they were told by their parents before the trip. They distracted the little ones, comforted them, it’s just an excursion.
They had lunch in Chisinau, the capital of Moldova, drove on, via Romania, Hungary, the Czech Republic, without an overnight break, and after two and a half days they were in Berlin.
The Chabad congregation rented two floors of a hotel in Charlottenburg for the children and youth and their caregivers. The community collected donations and prepared the rooms in no time at all. An employee shows photos of a mountain that consists only of donated diaper packages, of boxes full of toothpaste tubes. The community also needed kosher food, which is not as easy to come by in Berlin, and they hired a chef who can prepare kosher meals. After their arrival in Berlin, the children and young people celebrated Shabbat together. A familiar ritual, a piece of home.
Everyone feels very comfortable in the hotel, say Susanna and Yaroslav, they want to thank all donors and helpers. And being in Berlin is “interesting,” says Susanna. She takes a break. Yaroslav says that when they are out and about in the city, they are accompanied by the police. The police officers are very nice, the smaller children always want to know which officer has what rank, they fool around with them. The police advised them to put their hoods on outside, he says. The boys in the group. They wear a kippah, but it’s better not to see that on the street in Berlin. Because of the anti-Semitism that exists here, says Yaroslav.
In his hometown, his father walked through the streets with a kippa and a long beard, and was greeted by other people, non-Jewish neighbors, with “Shalom, ma nishma?”. Hello, how are you, in Hebrew.
“Odessa is a Jewish city, still”
“Odessa is a special city in Ukraine,” says Yaroslav. “It’s still a Jewish town.” Once every third resident of the town was Jewish, he says. Before World War II. In 1941, the Wehrmacht occupied the city and the Germans murdered almost 100,000 of Odessa’s Jewish residents. Today, around 35,000 Jews still live in the city, which has almost a million inhabitants.
Yaroslav says his rabbi Abraham Wolff helped to keep the city’s Jewish life alive. The Chabad community built synagogues and schools, and a new one was about to be built. He just saw the construction site. Will it ever be further built, will he ever see it finished?
Abraham Wolff was born in Israel, but his ancestors were from Germany. His grandfather fled from the Nazis. Now he’s standing in Berlin, in the hall of the Chabad congregation, looking at the children he saved to this city of all places. The hotel in Charlottenburg is booked for two weeks, it is a first place of refuge. How it will continue, how long he himself will stay, nobody can say right now.
The plates have been cleared in the hall, and the Federal President and his wife left after an hour and a half. A couple of kids race through downtown Chabad in bobby cars. A girl, also around 18 years old, tells about her family who are trying to flee from Kharkiv to England. Another girl, a little younger, has sat down at the piano that stands in a corner of the hall. Your fingers fly over the keys but don’t touch them.
Yaroslav tries out a few words in German. He already understands simple sentences. On the bus to Berlin he was hanging over his mobile phone, everyone had asked him what he was doing there, says Susanna. For a moment, the seriousness is released from her face, she laughs. He started learning German on the bus.
Yaroslav’s mother escaped the war to Chisinau in Moldova with his brother, but his father is too old to flee and is therefore still in Odessa. Susanna’s family also stayed in Odessa. The parents did not want to leave the grandparents alone. When Susanna and Yaroslav were safe in Berlin, they called their families. For the first time in their lives, the grandparents and parents made a video call, shouted loudly and waved. This is how they see each other now.
Early on Wednesday morning, shortly after two, the new refugees arrive at the hotel, 120 Jewish women and children from Odessa and the surrounding area, wearily climbing out of buses. The Chabad community in Berlin is posting photos on Instagram to spread the word. One shows Susanna holding a child who escaped the war five days after her.
The Berlin Chabad community is asking for donations to finance the further accommodation of the children and young people. Donation account: Chabad Lubawitsch Berlin, Deutsche Bank, IBAN DE47100700240505559501, purpose: Ukraine.
Donations are also possible via Paypal – via this button:
