“My Israeli Story”, a project by the JEWISHcolorado’s Israel & Overseas Center, offers our community a chance to connect with and learn about the diverse stories of our emissaries. Each feature will spotlight a different shinshin and their family’s unique journey.
I come from a family whose history is deeply connected with the story of Israel, shaped by immigration, resilience, and a love for the land. My grandmother from my mother’s side, Hannah, was born three days after her parents, Chava and Yitzhak, arrived in Israel from Cyprus. They had been detained there by the British, who prohibited them from entering what was then called Palestine in 1947. Originally from Hungary and Czechoslovakia, they survived the Holocaust and made the journey to Israel, driven by my great-grandfather Yitzhak’s passionate Zionism. Upon arrival, they were placed in an immigrant camp in Haifa before moving to Kibbutz Yad Mordechai. When the War of Independence broke out, my great-grandfather stayed behind to fight, and they relocated to Sha’ar HaAmakim. When they arrived, my great-grandparents’ names were translated into Hebrew—Eva became Chava, and Viktor became Yitzhak. At home, Hungarian was rarely spoken. My grandmother recalls that my great-grandfather insisted on speaking only Hebrew. The only trace of their Hungarian roots that remained was the food.
Ori’s father, Eyal, his sister Sharon, and his mother Tzvia
Ori’s father in Mashabei Sade kindergarten
My grandfather from my mother’s side, Yossi, was born in Tel Aviv in 1945 to parents who immigrated from Latvia as young Zionists before the Holocaust. My great-grandfather Moshe worked as a truck driver, while my great-grandmother Leah remained at home. My mother recalls that her grandparents always emphasized that Israel was the only place for the Jewish people, and leaving the country was seen as a betrayal.
Ori’s Grandfather, Yossi, and his family
Ori’s grandfather, Yossi, and his parents
Ori’s grandmother, Chana, with her parents, Yitzhak and Chava
My father’s parents, Charley and Tzvia, immigrated to Israel from France in 1961. They had been involved in the Zionist youth movement Dror, where they learned about building a Jewish homeland. Since Zionist activity was banned in Morocco, they left with an underground network, first arriving in France for training in agriculture and Hebrew before continuing to Israel. Their parents were unaware of their plans, believing they were attending school in France. Upon arriving in Israel, they joined Kibbutz Mashabei Sade (in Ramat HaNegev Region), where my grandmother embraced the pioneering spirit, declaring, “We came here to make the desert bloom.” Life on the kibbutz was challenging, but they adapted—my grandfather worked in the fields, while my grandmother took on roles in the kitchen, daycare, and accounting. Growing up in the kibbutz, my father was the only Moroccan among mostly Ashkenazi children. Although Hebrew was required, his parents continued to speak French among themselves. Unlike their European-born counterparts, my father’s family didn’t celebrate Mimouna or follow Moroccan Passover traditions, as kibbutz life demanded assimilation. Over time, they reconnected with their heritage, and today, my grandparents insist on speaking French with us.
Now that I am living away from home, I realize how important it is to preserve our family traditions and culture. As I share my Israeli story in Denver, I carry my family’s legacy with me, ensuring that our history and traditions continue to thrive.