I was recently stuck in Europe under a volcano cloud with millions of people and my own older parents. I took them for a fun weekend to visit my son who is studying in Budapest and there we found ourselves unable to leave. Our heroic rescue operation back to the homeland is the subject of a future “On the Ground” column which I will probably name “Operation Shachams” (or “Who needs Protektzia when one has connections”).

Anyway, being in such a chaotic situation, with lots of unknowns, a total “Balagan” and plenty of unplanned free time, one starts to think philosophically about things like: “destiny in the hands of the Icelanders,” “from the Shtetl to the global village,” “the mighty power of dust,” “our slavery to the iron birds,” “the sky is indeed the limit” and of course for me, “the magic touch of the Blackberry Device.”

But I do want to share with you one serious thought that probably didn’t cross many other minds: The closed sky caught us in Hungary with all its painful Jewish history, a week after their national elections in which a far right party won much power, a few days after Yom Hashoa (Holocaust remembrance day) and symbolically during Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israeli memorial and independence days). We were three generations of proud Israeli Sabras and our country, where we were all born, raised and served in the army, was celebrating its 62nd anniversary. Yet we were helpless, forced to stay on foreign European soil with not much to do. We couldn’t get out from our exile.

And so the next thing that came to mind was to go back one generation and commemorate, Saba Avram, my father’s father, my own grandfather and my son’s great grandfather. He was born not far from where we were stuck. It was many years ago and the technology was very immature. The state of Israel was not yet born, and yet for him, going to the land of Israel, even if he had to walk if needed, was quite an obvious thing to do.

He was young, enthusiastic and full of ideology. No cloud could stop him. In his time the sky, but also many other things in life, were much clearer.

Avraham Steinig was born in Poland in 1906 and made Aliyah to Eretz Israel when he was 25 together with friends from his youth movement. He was a typical Zionist Halutz (pioneer) of that period in time: Leaving behind him the old exile culture of Eastern Europe, full of idealism, returning back to the soil of his forefathers. Working the land here and settling it became his new religion, the fulfillment of the Jewish dream. Saba Avram was one of the founders of Kibbutz Shiller, where I was born some 25 years later.

During one of the early days of the Kibbutz, a photographer from the Jewish Agency arrived at the banana groves and asked permission to take some photos of the Halutzim. It was meant to serve as public relations, a marketing and fundraising tool to help the Kibbutzniks. After a short communal discussion they decided to cooperate and Avram was chosen to become the model. Not just because he was the most senior banana worker around but, I am proud to say, he was also the most handsome guy around. Just look at the photo and see for yourself.

A few weeks later postcards with these photos were distributed all over the Yishuv (the pre-state Jewish community) and in the Diaspora Jewish communities. On the other side of the photo it was written in Hebrew: “The Joy of Working the Land — Halutz with Eve’s figs, Avraham Steinig, Kibbutz Shiller.” Saba Avram received one copy of his postcard but didn’t like it at all and hid it from everyone else. He had a few good reasons: First and foremost he was embarrassed. He saw himself as a Zionist role model and not as a wimpy fashion model. He didn’t have time to spend on PR; he had a country to build. Secondly, even at that time the marketing language that was used on the post card was too kitschy for him: working the land was not a “joy” for Saba Avram. He was working so hard and looked so serious because of pure values, idealism, and belief in the assignment, not joy god forbid.

Thirdly, the archaic Hebrew translation for banana: “Eve’s Fig”, sounded as terrible as it sounds today.

During the years the famous photo was lost and we only knew of its existence from the stories. One day, there was a cover story in Ha’aretz newspaper about the Halutzim and as an illustration they used Saba Avram’s old photo. His son Yossi, my uncle, wrote to the paper and told them that this was not just some Halutz, it is his own father working in Shiller’s banana groves and he wants to have the photo. The paper sent him to their archives and there, after much digging, he found the original post card. He reproduced it and sent it to all of Avram’s grandchildren.

UJC of MetroWest has a long and viable partnership and relationship with the city of Rishon Letzion. A few years ago I was told that in the newly built fancy old age home “Achuzat Rishonim” near Ramat Eliyahu, they hung big pictures of Halutzim on the walls for decoration, and that Saba Avram’s picture was hung there as well. I was asked by my family to use my connections in Rishon Letzion and go look for it. The opportunity came several months later when I was invited for a lunch meeting in “Achuzat Rishonim” with the then mayor, Meir Nitzan, then US Senator Jon Corzine and a leadership group from our community. During dessert I went on a search for the photo. Ellen Goldner, then incoming president of the Federation, went with me from room to room and from floor to floor looking for it. When we almost gave up, suddenly we saw him on the wall in the corridor of the 4th floor:

He was standing there with this huge cluster of bananas, handsome, serious, and more determined than ever, carrying the heavy burden of the bananas — or perhaps the entire Zionist ethos — on his strong left shoulder. The entire MW leadership group had to climb with Ellen and me to the 4th floor in order to visit my Saba Avram and hear his story. What a surreal and emotional scene it was to watch this encounter.

The last twist of this famous photo is also very symbolic and reflects the changes of time: Our grandparents the Halutzim built the country for us and we have to keep it for the next generations. Agriculture is not a good income anymore for the Kibbutzim and many of them are now open to private enterprises. My youngest cousin Avi, named after our grandfather Avraham, is still a member of Kibbutz Shiller. A few years ago he started a new and unusual business in the kibbutz: he produces beer. His product “Shiller Beer” won several international awards. The sticker on “Shiller Beer” is a duplication of the famous old photo “Halutz with Eve’s Figs”. So now Saba Avram with his bananas is a frequent visitor in pubs, bars, restaurants and parties. Not only is he a professional fashion model but he is now a masculine promoter of alcoholic drinks.

We keep asking ourselves what Avram would say if we would bring him back here and show him the surprising developments. Would he tolerate the new shape of the Kibbutz and the new private modern economy? Would he be sad or happy to see Israel’s reality at its 62nd birthday? Would he understand that the links in the Jewish, Israeli chain can be different and unique from one another as long as they keep connecting and continuing? The consensus within the family is that Saba Avram, even in the old Kibbutz days, was always a kind of entrepreneur, cutting edge activist and a creative thinker, so probably he would go along with it and give it his blessing.

One thing for sure: If he would see himself on these beer bottles perhaps for the first time we would see a smile on his too serious face or even a good laugh, not to say joy.

Drishat Shalom,

Amir

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