A Holocaust survivor will mark that history differently after the horrors of Oct. 7

KIBBUTZ MEFALSIM, Israel (AP) — When Hamas fighters invaded southern Israel on Oct. 7, the militant group that rules the Gaza Strip perpetrated the deadliest attack on Jews since the Holocaust.

So this year’s Holocaust Remembrance Day, which begins on Sunday evening in Israel, carries a heavier weight than usual for many Jews around the world.

For Judith Tzamir, a Holocaust survivor from Germany who moved to Israel in 1964, the horrors of Oct. 7 prompted her to mark the somber holiday by making a pilgrimage she has long avoided: She will visit Auschwitz, the Nazi concentration camp in Poland.

Tzamir, whose kibbutz fended off Hamas attackers on Oct. 7, will join 55 other Holocaust survivors from around the world and about 10,000 others participating in the March of the Living. The event recreates the 2-mile (3-kilometer) march from Auschwitz to Birkenau, where approximately 1 million Jews were killed by Nazi Germany.

The event, now in its 36th year, usually draws thousands of participants, including Holocaust survivors and Jewish students, leaders and politicians. This year, Israeli hostages released from captivity in Gaza and families whose relatives are still being held captive will also join the march.

“I don’t know if the world will listen, but even for myself, it’s important,” said Tzamir, who had turned down past invitations to visit Auschwitz. “To remember that there’s still antisemitism around, and there are still people who will kill just for religious reasons.”

Holocaust Remembrance Day, marked on the anniversary of the outbreak of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, has traditionally been a time for Israelis to gather and listen to testimony from survivors.

It is one of the most somber days of the year — highlighted by a two-minute siren when traffic halts and people stand at attention in memory of the victims. Memorial ceremonies are held throughout the day, and names of victims are recited. While Israel’s national Holocaust memorial, Yad Vashem, tries to steer clear of politics, its ceremony this year includes an empty yellow chair in solidarity with the Israeli hostages still held in Gaza.

In 1948, when Tzamir was 4 1/2 years old, the people she knew as her parents dressed her in a light blue dress, with black shoes and white socks, and took her to a plaza in Berlin. She remembers clutching her doll, Yula, when they revealed that they were not her parents and that the woman standing before them was her biological mother.

Tzamir’s mother had hidden her Jewish identity during World War II by serving in the German army. She gave birth to Judith in 1943 in a hospital run by nuns, and left Judith behind to save her life. Tzamir, called Donata at the time, was placed in a foster family. She had no idea she was Jewish until she met her mother.

Sixteen years later, while she was in college, Tzamir went to Mefalsim, a kibbutz in southern Israel on the border with Gaza, through a student-exchange program. After her studies, she returned to Mefalsim, fell in love with a new immigrant from Argentina who was also living on the kibbutz, and stayed, raising four children.

On Oct. 7, Tzamir was faced with the possibility of losing her home once again. Hamas militants poured over the border from Gaza and attacked towns, army bases and a music festival in southern Israel. Mefalsim was luckier than many other kibbutzim in the area, where militants burned homes and left wide swaths of destruction.

The militants killed around 1,200 people that day, mostly civilians, and kidnapped 250 others. The attack sparked the Israeli invasion in Gaza, where the death toll has soared to more than 34,500 people, according to local health officials, and driven around 80% of Gaza’s population of 2.3 million from their homes. The high death toll and humanitarian crisis have prompted genocide accusations against Israel in the International Court of Justice — a charge that Israel angrily rejects.

Hamas has said its attack was aimed against Israeli occupation and its blockade of Gaza, and pro-Palestinian activists deny any antisemitic motives in their opposition to Israel’s military offensive. For most Jewish Israelis, global protests calling for boycotts of Israel and questioning the country’s right to exist often veer into antisemitism.

On the day of the attack, Mefalsim’s emergency preparedness squad was able to hold most of the Hamas militants outside the kibbutz perimeter. Many residents stayed in safe rooms for nearly 24 hours, until the Israeli army was able to evacuate them the next day.

Although there were no fatalities at Mefalsim, its roughly 800 residents were told to leave, along with more than 120,000 Israelis who lived within a few kilometers of the borders with Gaza and Lebanon. Mefalsim, Tzamir's steady anchor after a childhood filled with upheaval and uncertainty, was no longer a safe haven.

Many Mefalsim residents have been living in a hotel north of Tel Aviv the past seven months, uncertain of next steps, though Tzamir and some others hope to return to the kibbutz in June.

Tzamir said the Oct. 7 attack brought up all kinds of memories from her childhood trauma. She could function during the day, but when she went to sleep her dreams were filled with blood and death and fires, visions that reminded her of the bombings she witnessed as a child in Germany.

Tzamir is one of approximately 2,000 Holocaust survivors in Israel who were forced to evacuate from their homes due to the war in Gaza, according to Israel’s Ministry of Welfare and Social Affairs. The ministry estimates that 132,000 Holocaust survivors live in Israel.

Tzamir served as a director of her kibbutz for 13 years, so she knows every resident. She said some families may never return to Mefalsim, just a mile (1.4 kilometers) from the Gaza border. Explosions from Gaza reverberate over the buildings, and the sense of security is difficult to reclaim.

But it was never a question for her, she said.

“I’m 80 years old, I don’t want to lose my home again,” Tzamir said as her husband Ran, busied himself tending to a garden bursting with succulents and flowers, just before their flight to Poland. “We are coming back.”

This story has been corrected to show that the spelling of the kibbutz is Mefalsim.

Judith Tzamir, a Holocaust survivor from Germany, poses for a portrait in the garden of her family home in Kibbutz Meflasim, southern Israel, Friday, May 3, 2024. On Monday, Tzamir will join 55 other Holocaust survivors from Israel and around the world for a memorial march in Poland, called March of the Living. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)

Judith Tzamir, a Holocaust survivor from Germany, speaks to a journalist in her family home in Kibbutz Meflasim, southern Israel, Friday, May 3, 2024. On Monday, Tzamir will join 55 other Holocaust survivors from Israel and around the world for a memorial march in Poland, called March of the Living. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)

Judith Tzamir, a Holocaust survivor from Germany, speaks to a journalist in her family home in Kibbutz Meflasim, southern Israel, Friday, May 3, 2024. On Monday, Tzamir will join 55 other Holocaust survivors from Israel and around the world for a memorial march in Poland, called March of the Living. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)

Judith Tzamir, a Holocaust survivor from Germany, poses for a portrait in her family home in Kibbutz Meflasim, southern Israel, Friday, May 3, 2024. On Monday, Tzamir will join 55 other Holocaust survivors from Israel and around the world for a memorial march in Poland, called March of the Living. (AP Photo/Maya Alleruzzo)

RIO DE JANEIRO (AP) — A 20-minute drive separates the historic Maracana Stadium from the Complexo do Alemao, the biggest complex of favelas in Rio de Janeiro and one of the most impoverished and violent.

One of its residents, 15-year-old soccer player Kaylane Alves dos Santos, hopes her powerful shots and impressive dribbles will allow her to cover that short distance to the stadium in three years to play for Brazil's national team in the final of the 2027 Women's World Cup.

That chance, once remote, became more realistic on Friday when FIFA members voted to make Brazil the first Latin American country to host the Women's World Cup.

Local organizers have suggested that both the opening match and the final are likely to be played at the 78,000-seat Maracana Stadium that staged the final matches of the 1950 and the 2014 men's soccer World Cups.

Teenager dos Santos knows the hurdles for her to ever play for Brazil remain enormous — in 2027 or later. She doesn't have a professional club to play for, she only trains twice a week, and her nutrition is not the best due to limited food choices in the favela.

Most importantly, she often can't leave home to play when police and drug dealers shoot at each other in Complexo do Alemao.

Still, she is excited and hopeful about Brazil hosting the Women's World Cup, resulting in a big boost to her confidence.

“We have a dream (of playing for Brazil in the Women’s World Cup), and if we have that chance it will be the best thing in the world,” dos Santos told The Associated Press this week after a training session in the Complexo do Alemao.

She and about 70 other young women in the Bola de Ouro project train on an artificial grass pitch in a safe region of the 3-square kilometers long (1.15 square mile) community.

If not on the pitch, Dos Santos and her teammates will be happy enough just to attend games of a tournament they could only dream of watching up close until FIFA members voted for Brazil over the Germany-Netherlands-Belgium joint bid. The Women's World Cup was played for the first time in 1991 and will have its 10th edition in 2027.

A five-time champion in men's soccer, more than any other country, Brazil has yet to win its first Women's World Cup trophy. By then, it is unlikely superstar Marta, aged 38, will be in the roster. Dos Santos and thousands of young female footballers who have overcome sexism to take up the sport are keen to get inspiration from the six-time FIFA player of the year award winner and write their own history on home soil.

As many female footballers experience in Brazil, dos Santos and her teenage teammates rarely play without boys on their teams. Until recently, they also had to share the pitch with five-year-old girls, which didn't allow the older players to train as hard as they would like.

“(The Women's World Cup in Brazil) makes us focus even more in trying to get better. We need to be able to play in this,” said 16-year-old Kamilly Alves dos Santos, Kaylane's sister and also a player on the team. “We need to keep training, sharing our things."

Their team, which has already faced academy sides of big local clubs like Botafogo, is trained by two city activists who once tried to become players themselves.

Diogo Chaves, 38, and Webert Machado, 37, work hard to get some of their players to the Women's World Cup in Brazil, but if that's not possible they will be happy by keeping them in school.

Their non-profit group is funded solely by donations.

“At first, basically, the children wanted to eat. But now we have all of this,” said Chaves, adding that the project began three years ago. “We believe they can get to the national team. But our biggest challenge is opportunity. There's little for children from here, not only for the girls.”

Machado said the two coaches “are not here to fool anyone” and do not believe all the young women they train will become professionals.

“What we want from them is for they to be honest people, we all need to have our character,” Machado said. “We want to play and make them become nurses, doctors, firefighters, some profession in the future."

The two dos Santos sisters, as do many of their teammates, believe that reaching the Women's World Cup as Complexo do Alemao residents is possible. Brazil has more than 100 professional women's soccer teams, with other players living in favelas, too.

But it won't be easy.

“Sometimes I have to cancel appointments because of shootings, because there’s barricades on fire,” she said. “Sometimes police tell us to go back home, they say we can’t come down and point their guns to me, to my mother,” said Kamilly.

Her sister hopes the pair will overcome the violence, against the odds.

“I want to earn my living in soccer, fulfill all dreams," Kaylane says. "And I want to leave the Complexo do Alemao. I want to make it happen.”

AP soccer: https://apnews.com/hub/soccer

An overhead view of the pitch where young women take part in a soccer training session run by the Bola de Ouro social program at the Complexo da Alemao favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Thursday, May 16, 2024. (AP Photo/Silvia Izquierdo)

Agatha smiles during a soccer training session run by the Bola de Ouro social program, at the Complexo da Alemao favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Thursday, May 16, 2024. Young women are participating in soccer programs led by community trainers, where they receive both sports and personal development training. (AP Photo/Silvia Izquierdo)

Agatha strikes a ball during a soccer training session run by the Bola de Ouro social program, at the Complexo da Alemao favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Thursday, May 16, 2024. Young women are participating in soccer programs led by community trainers, where they receive both sports and personal development training. (AP Photo/Silvia Izquierdo)

Young women ready breakfast for fellow participants as part of a soccer training session run by the Bola de Ouro social program, at the Complexo da Alemao favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Thursday, May 16, 2024. Young women are participating in soccer programs led by community trainers, where they receive both sports and personal development training. (AP Photo/Silvia Izquierdo)

Relatives watch a soccer training session for young women run by the Bola de Ouro social program at the Complexo da Alemao favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Thursday, May 16, 2024. Young women are participating in soccer programs led by community trainers, where they receive both sports and personal development training. (AP Photo/Silvia Izquierdo)

Young women and their coach Dioguinho bring it in for a team huddle at the start of a soccer training session run by the Bola de Ouro social program, at the Complexo da Alemao favela in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, May 16, 2024. Young women are participating in soccer programs led by community trainers, where they receive both sports and personal development training. (AP Photo/Silvia Izquierdo)