MAY 5 • 2022 | 15

I tried to prepare the best 
I could, gathering donations 
for the urgent need items 
we received from JAFI staff. 
A week later, after running 
around like a wild woman, 
gathering medical certification 
that I was in good enough 
shape for this trip, signing my 
life away in liability forms, 
and meeting with my family 
and friends before I left, I was 
traveling to New York and 
onward to Warsaw, Poland, 
from there, with my own 
small suitcase and a larger one 
filled with donations. 
My family and friends were 
somewhat worried (proba-
bly an understatement), but 
I overruled their anxiety, as 
I felt I could contribute my 
skills and expertise to help. At 
our orientation before the trip, 
we were told we would live in 
the same hotel where refugees 
are placed, eat the same food 
and would be sharing a room 
with another volunteer.
That last one was the scar-
iest part for my American 
friends, but for those of us 
who came from the former 
Soviet Union, sharing living 
space (and taking turns to 
use a shared bathroom and 
shower) was nothing new. I’ve 
heard horrible, painful stories 
from my friends about their 
family members’ and friends’ 
war experiences in Ukraine. 
So, I thought I was totally 
mentally and emotionally pre-
pared for the trip and knew 
what to expect.

ARRIVAL IN POLAND
The first thing I saw as I 
arrived at the hotel in Warsaw 
was that it was much nicer 
than I expected, probably 
what we would rate a three- 

or four-star hotel. The next 
thing I saw, when I entered 
my assigned room that I was 
to share with a stranger, was 
one big bed. After the first 
moment of slight shock, I 
realized that there were two 
twin beds put together, and 
the hotel staff was able to pull 
them apart, albeit only a few 
inches.
My roommate turned out 
to be a wonderful nurse from 
Montreal, Canada, who was 
born in Kyiv, then repatriated 
to Israel, and after 13 years 
of working in a hospital with 
patients wounded by rockets, 
decided to move to Canada.
There were six other people 
from Montreal in our volun-
teer group, and they all spoke 
Hebrew, English and French 
in addition to Russian (and 
some Ukrainian and some 
Polish). There were also two 
Israelis, who currently live 
in the U.S. (and spoke three 
languages). And the group 
was rounded out by three 
Americans (including me) 
and one Israeli, the four of us 
“only” bilingual and feeling 
slightly inadequate in the 
group that kept switching 
among languages.
That first night we met 
with some of the JAFI staff 
and a small group of previous 
volunteers, who were prepar-
ing to depart the next day. 
Our group had social work-
ers, teachers, medical and 
IT professionals, so we tried 
to assign jobs to ourselves 
where we felt we would fit. 
I helped with kids’ activities 
on the first day, but after that 
had to step in and assist in 
the Humanitarian Aid store, 
where I was then needed for 
the rest of the deployment.

TOP: A volunteer sorts through donations in the Humanitarian Aid 
store. MIDDLE: Volunteer nurses at work. BOTTOM: Volunteers 
make challah with refugee families before Shabbat.
continued on page 16