Sheera Claire Frenkel
JPost.com
On an average day Rabbi Yosef Zaklos might deliver food and water, rebuild a fishing boat or perform an impromptu bar mitzva – unusual activities for a rabbinical student. But Zaklos, a relief aid worker in tsunami-ravaged Thailand, is not your average rabbi.
In the days following the tsunamis, Zaklos watched and prayed with the rest of his New York yeshiva as the world struggled to cope with the disaster unfolding on their TV sets. One week later, he received a call from a family friend, Rabbi Yosef Chaim Kantor, the executive director of Chabad in Thailand. Kantor was working to help Jewish families in the devastated areas, and he wanted Zaklos to volunteer so that they could do more.
"Rabbi Kantor called me Sunday night, and by Monday 11 a.m., we were booked on a flight to Thailand," said Zaklos. "It was a last-minute decision, but we knew it was the right thing to do."
Of the hundreds of volunteers who streamed into Southeast Asia, Zaklos was in a unique position to provide spiritual as well as material aid. Chabad has collected over $300,000 in direct aid to tsunami victims since the disaster.
This week, the Thai government announced that it was cracking down on aid organizations, many of which have indulged in missionary work and private, unapproved projects. Chabad, however, has received special recognition from the local government for its work in the area.
Zaklos, and other Chabad workers, evaluate each project on an individual basis. When approached for help, they take the time to examine the situation so that they can provide the best possible long-term solution.
One such project is the microcredit program. Designed for people who are not eligible for bank loans, the program grants interest-free loans to victims of the tsunami.
"We want to set it up on a local level, where it is actually the villagers who are helping themselves and not just an outside group coming in," said Kantor. "Right now though, there are several Jewish organizations that are eager to get involved in it."
Although much of the aid has been oriented around the Jewish community in Thailand, Zaklos sees the work as breaking religious barriers.
"When it comes to the aid, we have seen no lines in who we assist," said Zaklos. "Just the other day, we gave aid to a Muslim family. It's not Jewish-oriented aid, it's humanitarian aid." And that aid ranges from delivering the obvious essentials, such as foodstuffs and water, to more diverse projects, such as sponsoring boats for local fisherman, and putting together a fleet of motorcycles so that parents can take their children to school (most buses were destroyed by the tsunami).
This week, Zaklos spent a few days helping Mayu Nakim reestablish her business.
Nakim had supported her family by renting out beach chairs to tourists on Kamala beach. When Zaklos heard that the tsunami had destroyed all of her chairs, he purchased a new set for her and helped her set them up.
While most of the aid is still focused on filling essential needs, the volunteers have also found ways to take care of survivors' emotional needs.
"We have one project where children from schools in America donate their toys to children here," said Zaklos. "It's a very special project because it connects children to children. It provides a kind of relief for the broken hearts here."
The first donation of toys arrived this week from Florida, and dozens of other schools have committed to send toys in the coming weeks as well.
In another twist, Zaklos has found himself performing impromptu bar mitzva ceremonies.
"By divine providence we met a Jewish fellow who mentioned to us that he had never had a bar mitzva," said Zaklos. "So we got out the tefillin right there and then and did a bar mitzva for him on the very spot where he was volunteering."
Zaklos has performed four other bar mitzvas for volunteers in the area. "Sometimes you have to come all the way down to Thailand to have your bar mitzva!" he said.
Nehemia Wilhelm, a rabbi at the Bangkok Chabad center with Kantor, said he believed that it was those positive acts that kept the relief effort going.
Wilhelm was dispatched to Phuket, once a tourist hot spot, in the hours after the tsunami. Phuket lay in ruins, with bloated bodies and debris lining the street. He was armed with a list of nearly 2,000 Jews who had been reported missing.
"Ten minutes after the disaster hit my phone started ringing," Wilhelm wrote on the Chabad Web site. "We had hundreds of names on our lists, with new ones being added every hour."
Wilhelm helped reunite hundreds of families with their missing loved ones. For the survivors, Chabad provided food, clothing, medical care, and transportation back home. He also helped Zaka (Disaster Victims Identification) volunteers make identifications and arrange for Jewish burials.
"On a larger scale, this disaster has brought people of every race, creed and religion together," wrote Wilhelm. "There are no divisions in suffering. Rich, poor, young, old, male, female were all the same in the eyes of the waves."
Wilhelm told of a few of these miracles: a 20-day-old baby that was found alive, floating on a mattress three days after the tsunami hit, and a one-year-old who was torn from his mother's arms by a wave, only to be fished out by his nanny. Once, while visiting a hospital, an Israeli woman called Wilhelm over to tell him her story. She had been traveling on a boat with 41 Israelis to Ko Phi Phi when the waves hit.
The woman was sure her life was over and she began screaming to the others to join her in the Shema Yisrael. As she sang, a log rose next to her, keeping her head afloat above the water.
"It is these miracles that give me hope and remind me of my purpose and mission," wrote Wilhelm.