argentina

The Lachsters made the move to Israel at the start of 2023, and it hasn’t always been easy.

Originally appeared in Jerusalem Post Magazine on May 15, 2026

Daniela Lachster, her husband, and two sons loved their thriving Buenos Aires Jewish community. But Argentina is also a country with a long history of economic and political uncertainty – two big reasons why Jews there consider aliyah.
The Lachsters made the move to Israel at the start of 2023, and needless to say, it hasn’t always been easy. They have dealt with Oct. 7, the Iran wars, job searches, and settling two children, ages 23 and 16, into a new country. “It is a process. If you ask in five years, I will be speaking in a different manner,” says Lachster.

Lachster’s candor and heartfelt descriptions of their experiences searching for jobs, interacting with not always helpful government officials, and the lack of services for Spanish speakers as compared to English speakers are useful to those making aliyah from Spanish-speaking countries.

Lachster feels that the job search for those over 50 is fraught with challenges and perhaps age discrimination. She and her husband both had meaningful and fulfilling pre-aliyah careers. Lachster worked for the National Bank of Argentina for 20 years, then as a volunteer for the AMIA (Asociación Mutual Israelita Argentina) Jewish community institution, and briefly for a gold jewelry wholesaler.

Lachster’s husband came to Israel with very impressive credentials, which include degrees in business administration, language skills, and a five-year stint (2011-2016) with the multinational energy corporation Chevron. His work took the family from Buenos Aires, with 180,000 to 250,000 Jewish members, to Mandeville, Louisiana, and its small Jewish community – a 40-minute drive from New Orleans. The Lachsters enjoyed their time in the US – especially their frequent eight-hour trips to central Florida’s beaches.

The Lachsters returned to Argentina from 2016 to 2021, a period that coincided with the COVID pandemic and Argentina’s very restrictive regulations. “They were very strict. We couldn’t go out of our homes for six or seven months. They closed the whole country, and we were only allowed to go out 100 meters. We saw that other countries had a life,” Lachster said.

She noted the psychological toll that being confined to home was taking on her, the family, and the entire country, and began thinking seriously of moving. She conceded, “I never thought of aliyah because the US was the promised land.” Returning to the US wasn’t an option, as it would have required a special visa.

After moving to Israel, Lachster has found cultural differences to be “the hardest.” She cited service providers who “seem angry,” are not “speaking nicely,” and treat people “with no respect.” Lachster’s dry sense of humor comes through often. “It is easier to go to the moon than to go on aliyah.”

She also notes cultural differences in the areas of education and parenting. She is particularly attuned to such issues in her work as a preschool assistant. She has observed children in Israel frequently left alone and not properly supervised for many hours, and parents who do not set limits for their children. Lachster is taking classes in early childhood education through the David Yellin College of Education.

Another issue Lachster has faced is in accessing services for immigrants. She laughed as she described a visit with the Aliyah and Integration Ministry. She was assigned to a Russian speaker who was unclear about her benefits, and she ended up signing up for National Insurance Institute (NII – Bituah Leumi) benefits on her own.

Lachster observes that “all olim have problems” but feels it is even harder for olim from South America. She noted, “If you speak English, you have more organizations to help – like Nefesh B’Nefesh and ESRA. But they don’t help South Americans.”

The aliyah process has been challenging for her husband and for their two sons. Despite her husband’s impressive resume, it has been difficult to find what he is looking for. In the meantime, he has been working as a freelancer with computer systems. “The truth is, it is very hard to find work if you are over 50!”

Her older son spent six months on Kibbutz Ma’agan Michael after arriving. He’s now in the IDF. “He is good now and is acclimated to the army – but he didn’t learn any Hebrew on the kibbutz.”

Lachter explained that trying to understand the army is confusing and frustrating. Her son is looking forward to completing his army service and traveling before beginning his university studies in Israel.

Her younger son found it difficult to master Hebrew – despite attending Jewish day school in Argentina. He started school in Modi’in and benefited from a year and a half of ulpan.

Despite the challenges, Lachster keeps her perspective and remains positive. And she reminds herself of the challenges that made life uncertain in Argentina. “There were economic problems, and we had no idea who the next leader would be.”

The reality behind aliyah

Lachster feels lucky to have found such a lovely community. “We found our place in Modi’in, in a small, self-managed synagogue full of olim from all over the world. It’s our second home – a place where we pray, celebrate, and sometimes just share a meal and a laugh. There, amid the mix of languages and accents, I’ve learned that belonging is not about where you’re from but about where you choose to give your heart.”

Lachster has found another useful outlet for coping and settling into life in her new country. “A few days after arriving, I created @comer_alia, my Instagram page where I began sharing pieces of this new life. What started as a personal diary soon became a meeting point – a space to connect with other olim who, like me, were learning to walk, speak, and dream again in a new language and a new land.”
She uses her Spanish-language Instagram to chronicle “the good and bad things that happen to me.”
She uses the forum to write about trips she takes, shakshuka and other foods (“I love to eat”), and shopping experiences. And she uses it to describe and work through “the things I didn’t know.” She rattled off a long list, which includes NII and Terem Urgent Care. She also proudly uses her Instagram page as a tool for public diplomacy. “Christians in Argentina read it and like seeing their holy places.”

Lachster shared a thus far unpublished piece titled “My Aliyah Story: Finding Light in a New Beginning,” where she writes, “Making aliyah is more than a change of country – it’s a leap of faith. In January 2023, I left Argentina with my family, our suitcases full of dreams and our hearts full of questions. We didn’t know exactly what was waiting for us in Israel, but we believed in something bigger – in building a life filled with meaning.

“The path of integration is not always simple, especially for Latin American olim. There are moments of frustration, of longing, of doubt. But there is also growth. Every challenge brings a new lesson, and with time, patience, and openness, life begins to flow naturally. I often think of four Hebrew words that have guided me along the way: savlanut (patience), emunah (faith), bitachon (trust), and sovlanut (tolerance). They are not just ideas – they are daily acts of strength.”
Lachster reminds those considering aliyah that “it is a process. It is a hard process.” And she offers, “My hope is that every oleh who arrives with a dream finds not only challenges but also light – the light of connection, of faith, and of belonging. Because aliyah is not just a journey across continents – it’s a journey toward the heart.” ■
Daniela Lachster, 52
From Buenos Aires
to Modi’in, January 2023
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Original Article Published On The Jerusalem Post

Bronstein’s daily Spanish-language videos – 443 in total to date – have quite a following, with 106,000 subscribers.

Meir Bronstein is not your typical hassid. He is also not your typical YouTuber. 

His sweet demeanor, his grasp of Judaism, literature and secular topics, his sense of humor, and his disarming smile have made him a rock star among Spanish-speaking YouTubers. He clearly, openly and proudly teaches his followers about every aspect of Judaism and Hassidism. His most successful YouTube video, Five Jewish Solutions That Will Change Your Life, has attracted 392,000 views.

Bronstein grew up a secular, somewhat rebellious son of prominent Masorti Rabbi Guillermo Bronstein in Lima, Peru. He lived there for 22 years before moving to Argentina to study literature. When the university fell on hard times and closed during an economic downturn in 2017, Bronstein admits, “I was very lost. I had no place to go.” He called his father for guidance, who advised him to reach out to Rabbi Isaac Sacca, the Sephardi chief rabbi of Buenos Aires, as well as founder and president of Menora, an organization catering to young people and ba’alei teshuva (those looking to become more observant).

“I went to Menora and started to learn Talmud and Jewish things and Halacha [Jewish law] and whatever. The intense studies attracted me, and I realized I wanted to be a frum Yid [religious Jew].” When Bronstein was considering becoming a hassid, he had a flashback to an experience he had more than a dozen years ago in Israel.

“In 2007, I was 10 years old and in Israel for the first time. We were in [the Jerusalem neighborhood of] Bayit Vagan for my sister’s wedding. It was 4 p.m. on Friday and we were on the balcony. I saw hats and long beards – and I listened.” 

WITH THE Spinka Rebbe. (credit: Courtesy Meir Bronstein)WITH THE Spinka Rebbe. (credit: Courtesy Meir Bronstein)

Bronstein smiles and breaks out into a niggun, a melody, which he hums and sings. “I looked up and saw a beautiful family of hassidim wearing spodeks [black fur hats]. I started listening and asked, ‘Who are these people?’ I saw myself in them. I felt my neshama [soul] – it was a very moving experience.” Without missing a beat, Bronstein makes a reference to Rudolph Otto, the German Lutheran theologian and writer who penned dozens of books including some of which have been cited by such Jewish theologians as rabbis Joseph Soloveitchik and Eliezer Berkovits. 

He checks his iPhone for the English name of one of the theologian’s books. “Rudolph explains that you can feel God in a place where people live a life of God. He got there because he entered a shul in Germany at Kol Nidre on Yom Kippur, felt the atmosphere and realized that God is there.” Bronstein connects Rudolph’s experience to his own. “So I felt the same. I felt so attached to them [the hassidim]. That feeling stayed with me my whole life.”

Bronstein recalls realizing just how different he was from others his age. “It was the first years of YouTube. My friends used to watch, I don’t know, the funniest falls, the funniest interviews. I used to watch the Satmar Rebbe dancing with his granddaughter, the Bobover Rebbe making Kiddush… I used to watch the videos of rebbes all day.”

“These hassidic ideas stayed with me my whole life and I said to myself, ‘When I am 70 or 80 years old, I want to be hassidish – not now, because I will need to stop using a smartphone on Shabbes, and many [other] things I don’t want [to give up]…” 

His time frame for becoming religious quickly moved up. “When I went to Argentina, these things started to happen, I started my teshuva process.” And Bronstein immediately began the process of becoming observant.

Coming to Israel and becoming a hassid

Bronstein came to Israel on scholarship in the winter of 2018 at age 23 to study in a yeshiva. He admits he didn’t really come to study. He ate breakfast with the other students, attended one shiur (class) and “escaped to Mea She’arim or Geula [in Jerusalem] to meet hassidim, learn what a rebbe is, etc.” 

Bronstein had a pivotal experience one day at the yeshiva. “One Friday, a guy in the yeshiva, Yoel Moshe, told me he had an uncle who was a Satmar [Hassid] and invited me to come eat with them for Shabbes.” Bronstein went to a Boyaner shul in Geula. “I will never forget the experience. I felt like I traveled back to a previous life in the shtetl – the people, the dress, the shtreimels [fur hats.]” 

The crowning achievement was his unexpected meeting with the Boyaner Rebbe at the conclusion of services. “I wanted to meet the rebbe, but he wasn’t there. We waited, and he came out. He is very humble and never looks up. He said ‘Gut Shabbes’ and shook our hand and continued walking. That was an amazing moment in my life. At that moment, I knew I wanted to be hassidish!”

Bronstein recounts that he didn’t aspire to be a hassid when he was younger. “As a kid, I wanted to be a writer and movie director.” He acknowledges that he published a book when he was 20 but was too embarrassed to elaborate. “Don’t ask what it is about. I am not so proud of it.”

After his experience with the Boyaner Rebbe in Israel and his growing interest in hassidim, Bronstein returned to Peru to consider his next move. He knew that hassidim lived all over the world. His father helped him realize, “When the mashiach [Messiah] comes, we will all need to go to Israel. And all rebbes go there sooner or later.” In Peru, he began the aliyah process. 

A female Jewish Agency representative, hearing that hassidism and rebbes were the motivating factors for his making aliyah, suggested that he not make aliyah straightaway – rather he spend one year in Israel on a MASA program, experience the country, and then decide if aliyah was right for him. 

Bronstein’s Israel plans changed – unbeknownst to him – while he was flying to Israel. When he showed up at the yeshiva where he was expecting to study for the year with all his luggage in tow, he was told by the yeshiva that they “didn’t want a hassid” and he was not actually accepted. What was he to do? He remembered he had a friend in Rehavia, who invited him to come over right away. (Bronstein smiles, saying he stayed there for three months!)

That frustrating first day in Israel quickly turned around, Bronstein says. “I was exhausted and slept from like 10 a.m. until 5:50 p.m. I woke up refreshed. I don’t know why, but I felt I needed to daven Mincha [pray the afternoon service] right away. I asked my friend for the closest shul, and he directed me to one around the corner. The first person I saw was the Boyaner Rebbe! He was at a conference nearby and stopped by to pray. I got to him like that! He said he remembered me, gave me the phone number of his gabbai [assistant)] and encouraged me to come to his shul, visit and reach out if I needed anything.”

Bronstein’s path to becoming a Boyaner Hassid continued. He had been caring for an elderly man through the yeshiva, then COVID hit, and he was no longer able to work. “I had nothing to do. It was a hard time. I got very depressed.” 

Getting into YouTube after reacting to the Netflix show Unorthodox

BRONSTEIN DISCOVERED the Netflix show Unorthodox, a miniseries about a 19-year-old Satmar Hassidic woman who is unhappy living a religious lifestyle in Williamsburg, Brooklyn – and flees. “At the same time, I started getting messages from friends in Peru and Argentina who heard I was becoming a hassid and asked if it was true or not. I decided to make a video – from a person IN hassidut – explaining what is true and what is not in Unorthodox.”

One video led to Bronstein creating many videos. “I didn’t know it would go from two to three to 500 to 1,000 to 2,000, whatever – people viewing the videos!” A Latin friend who was a successful YouTuber went to Bronstein’s house and encouraged him to keep making videos about how a Latin American guy became hassidic. 

There was one problem, however. “This thing clashed with Boyan – they are very regular haredi, ultra-Orthodox who don’t accept technology. People respected me for what I was doing, and the Boyaner Rebbe reluctantly permitted it. He said, ‘This is your parnassah [livelihood], but be aware – this isn’t a good thing and it could create problems. You should try to find other work.” 

Bronstein was in a bind. On one hand, he loved making videos. On the other hand, his rebbe wasn’t exactly supportive. “I didn’t know what to do.” The well-informed Bronstein brings examples of other well-rounded people – from modern times and from the past – who lived in both the religious and secular worlds, such as Rabban Gamliel in the Talmud, Maimonides and Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski. “I was inspired by Rabbi Twerski,” a hassid and psychiatrist specializing in substance abuse.” Bronstein really wants to show the world that it’s possible to be a haredi who uses YouTube and smartphones for good, and that one can learn secular and Jewish topics and not stop being Jewish, and particularly haredi. 

Bronstein was still not sure what to do. He was stuck at home during the quarantines and badly wanted to speak with the Boyaner Rebbe. His gabbai informed him that the rebbe was spending time with his family. “Call a rabbi,” his gabbai said. “I wanted to speak with a rebbe, not a rabbi!” 

Then Bronstein met a hassidic psychologist. “Maybe you can help me,” he said. “I am going crazy!” He was delighted by the psychologist’s suggestion to join a Zoom meeting with the Spinka Rebbe that night. “A Zoom with a rebbe?” Bronstein thought to himself, “I’ve never heard of this – I’ve heard of people recording a rebbe in secret but never this. It was true! A rebbe teaching Rashi, with his computer, on Zoom!” Bronstein approached the rebbe after the September 2020 class. “I got convinced.” 

“THAT WAS the haredi path I should follow, so I left Boyan.”

Bronstein has been happy with his decision, noting that everyone is accepted and that even people from his previous Boyaner hassidic community have been nice. 

And the Spinka Rebbe has been accepting and supportive of his love of YouTube. “When I realized you can show hassidus on YouTube, I asked the rebbe if I could maybe show more private things about hassidim. The Spinka Rebbe said, ‘Come to my house and record what you want!” Bronstein has recorded a halike, a first haircut ceremony held when a Jewish boy turns three, at the rebbe’s house and the Sheva Brachot of his granddaughter.

Bronstein is delighted that he has found a place where he can be accepted and where he can teach people about all aspects of Hassidism. At the same time, he acknowledges that many on YouTube think he is “doing a hilul Hashem [desecrating God’s name].” In any case, “They see that I am not the average hassid!”

His viewers include secular Jews and non-Jewish Bnei Noah – Noahides who see themselves as required to observe the Seven Laws of Noah to be assured of a place in the World to Come. 

Bronstein’s daily Spanish-language videos – 443 in total to date – have quite a following, with 106,000 subscribers. His most popular videos include Five Jewish Solutions That Will Change Your Life (392K); An Orthodox Jew Reacts to Argentine Humor (372K); The Ultra-Orthodox Neighborhood Nobody Has Dared To Enter (195K); and Interview with Ximena Orozco, the Actress Who Left Everything for Torah (and her conversion story). [https://www.youtube.com/@meirbronstein]

Bronstein and his wife of 10 months, Odel (“like the daughter of the Ba’al Shem Tov,” Bronstein adds), are happy living in Israel but admit “It is so expensive and difficult to live here.” He playfully yet seriously observes, “The banks take NIS 20 fees for nothing. There is a fee for this, a fee for that, a fee for breathing!” Bronstein advises olim, “Come with money, keep money in other countries, and come with Hebrew – even if it is from Duolingo!” He acknowledged that he learned Hebrew in ulpan but doesn’t speak fluently.

Bronstein and Odel hope to stay in Israel but are considering short-term teaching and keiruv (outreach) opportunities abroad “if the right opportunity comes.”

Meir Bronstein, 27 From Peru to Argentina to Jerusalem, 2019

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Original Article Published In The JP

Argentine-Jewish tennis star Diego Schwartzman shared his thoughts with The Jerusalem Post after his maiden trip to Israel for a recent tournament.

Diego Schwartzman, the highest-ranked Jewish tennis player in the world, finally made it to Israel.

He liked it so much that he can’t wait to come back and explore more.

The Argentina-born Schwartzman, 30 years old and the grandson of Holocaust survivors, is the 17th-ranked men’s player in the world. He briefly visited Israel over the past few weeks while participating in the Tel Aviv Watergen Open, which took place from September 26 to October 2. While Schwartzman did not have an opportunity to travel outside of Tel Aviv, he extensively explored the city on foot. And he loved it.

“I was surprised by Tel Aviv in a good way. I didn’t expect it to be so amazing. It is for sure one of my top-three best cities in the world.”

Diego Schwartzman

“I was surprised by Tel Aviv in a good way. I didn’t expect it to be so amazing. It is for sure one of my top-three best cities in the world,” Schwartzman shared with The Jerusalem Post via Zoom from his car in Buenos Aires.

Schwartzman, the tournament’s No. 3 seed (behind Novak Djokovic and Marin Cilic) had a bye in the first round before losing to Arthur Rinderknech of France 6-3, 2-6, 7-6 and quickly returned to Argentina. He was enjoying a rare visit home where he was spending time at the mall playing games with nieces and nephews and looking forward to spending Yom Kippur with family in Buenos Aires. He planned to join them for synagogue services and break-fast.

Diego Schwartzman plays a shot against Stefanos Tsitsipas in his Laver Cup Tennis match. (credit: PETER VAN DEN BERG-USA TODAY SPORTS/VIA REUTERS)

Schwartzman’s expectations of Israel vs. reality

Schwartzman was still feeling excited and enthusiastic about his first visit to Israel.

“From what you see on TV, you expect different things,” said Schwarzman. “I walked on different days for a long time to almost every part of the city. That’s why I can tell you it’s an amazing city. There were so many amazing things – young people, so many bars, good restaurants, coffee places, green spaces like squares, and beaches – the combination of city and new and modern and old traditions. I liked the freedom of the young people and the way people live there.”

Schwartzman expected to see “more religious people” in Tel Aviv. He definitely interacted with observant Jews in Tel Aviv, but noted “some follow a religious lifestyle, but in a modern way.”

Schwartzman’s parents, Ricardo and Silvana, also visited Israel for the first time.

“My family got to go to Jerusalem. They got to take a very nice walk.”

Competing in the event definitely limited Schwartzman’s chances to be a tourist.

“I arrived Monday, on Rosh Hashanah, and you could feel Rosh Hashanah in the air – not too much was open Monday, or Tuesday or Friday or Shabbat. I had to play on Thursday.”

He has already studied the map and internet and has identified places he’d like to visit on a future visit.

“I want to come back as a tourist and visit other places. I see everything is close, like the Dead Sea and Haifa. Right now there is peace and no conflict. It is a good time to come. I will be back for sure!”

While Schwartzman – who reached a career-high singles ranking of No. 8 in the world in October 2020 – experienced an earlier-than-expected departure during the Tel Aviv Watergen Open, he was very impressed with the tournament’s organization and atmosphere.

“They did amazing work – they built the place [at Expo Tel Aviv] four days before the tournament and it was well organized.”

Schwartzman has had the greatest success on clay and would have preferred playing outdoors, in a stadium.

“It is difficult to have tournaments indoors.” He is hopeful that future tournaments will have “a bigger court one, more practice courts and maybe a bigger stadium.”

Schwartzman was pleased with the crowds and their enthusiasm in general and for him.

“Novak was there and people wanted to go see him,” said Schwartzman. “It was great to see a full stadium. The crowd was good and the support for me was amazing. I felt like I was at home. People were fighting for me.

“I had a match point and almost came back. I was not playing my best. That’s why I want to come back!”

Schwartzman had several other meaningful experiences at the Tel Aviv Watergen Open. He enjoyed seeing Israeli tennis friends, including Israel’s Davis Cup team member Edan Leshem and retired player Amir Weintraub.

“He beat me in the third round of the qualifiers at the Australian Open,” Schwartzman jokingly said of Weintraub.

Indeed, Weintraub defeated Schwartzman 6-3, 6-4 at the 2013 Australian Open qualifiers in Melbourne. Weintraub entered the main draw and lost in the second round. The two also got to know each other at the 2014 Davis Cup, when Israel played Argentina in Sunrise, Florida.

Schwartzman was also excited to learn about tournament sponsor Watergen’s products.

“The owner of Watergen showed me everything and how they take water from the air. It is crazy how this high tech keeps improving every year.”

He also had an opportunity to try playing tennis in a wheelchair with one of Israel’s all-time great wheelchair tennis players, Noam Gershony.

“I was very bad. I can’t move. I don’t know how they do it! When you try, you realize how difficult it is for them – not just to play but to move and hit how they do. It was nice to share a moment with wheelchair players.”

Schwartzman enjoyed his first taste of Israel. And he can’t wait to come back. Israel will be equally happy to welcome Schwartzman and his family back for a longer visit, and for now, will continue to take pride in his accomplishments on the court across the globe.

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