The exterior of this typical school in central Odessa did not prepare the members of the Israeli delegation for what awaited them inside. The delegation members, among them the descendants of Ze'ev Jabotinsky, Deputy Knesset Speaker Tali Ploskov, Israel's Ambassador to Ukraine Eli Belotserkovsky, Chairman of the Jabotinsky Institute in Israel Yossi Ahimeir and the head of the Institute's Academic Committee Professor Arye Naor, stepped inside and were astonished. The school's choir welcomed their guests' arrival with a medley of Israeli songs, performed so well that any school in Israel would have been proud. After erasing all doubt about their grasp of Israeli musical classics, the students displayed their other skills in a variety of fields, from English to robotics, with the one common denominator: A connection to Israel. No further proof was needed to know the school was worthy of henceforth being named after Ze'ev Jabotinsky, and Odessa Mayor Gennadiy Trukhanov formally unveiled the school's new sign in three languages -- Ukrainian, Hebrew and English. The school-naming ceremony was one of the more touching experiences within the framework of "Jabotinsky Days in Odessa," a trip organized by the Israeli Embassy in Ukraine, the Nativ organization and the Jabotinsky Institute in Israel to the Ukrainian city on the banks of the Black Sea. A Ukrainian city, we said? This describes the geopolitical situation of today, but if we take the past into account, we can also call it a Jewish city. As the Odessans themselves joke, "All the streets of Tel Aviv can also be found in Odessa," referencing both the architectural similarity between the historic homes one can see in the first Hebrew city and Odessa; and the fact that a considerable portion of the Zionist enterprise's leadership came to Israel from their city. In Trukhanov's view, two of these personages are of particularly importance: Jabotinsky, whom he calls the "founder of the State of Israel," and Meir Dizengoff, "the founder of Tel Aviv." Dizengoff's name even hangs above a central Odessan cafe, where patrons are handed postcards with photographs of prestate Tel Aviv. The city is filled with flyers about guest performances by "musicians from Tel Aviv," and an assortment of other expressions of admiration for the enterprise sitting along the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. In short, if you ask someone from Odessa, their city and Tel Aviv were meant to be twin cities, even if this status has yet to be ratified with a formal signature. Odessa is a beautiful, pleasant place. The Odessa Literary Museum, situated so close to the Potemkin Stairs, is one of its treasures. The young Jabotinsky came here to read from his works, and the main hall that hosted the city's posh literary club has been preserved exactly as it was 120 years ago. Jabotinsky's granddaughter and grandson stood full of emotion in this hall, which was opened specially in our honor, surely able to imagine their grandfather rousing the dozens and hundreds of his people in his audience with his youthful, infectious passion. A floor below us, in the museum's central space, a fascinating exhibit on the life of Jabotinsky was opened to the public with considerable ceremonial fanfare. In addition to the familiar aspects of his life, other more obscure details are on display, yet to be seen by any Israeli, among them the local rabbinate's records documenting his birth and marriage. It is interesting that in all of these documents, Jabotinsky appears under his Russian name, Vladimir. The Hebraization of his name to "Ze'ev" apparently came later. Lofty celebrity status In Odessa, one need not strain to picture the events of the past -- discernible throughout the city and its wonderfully unique gardens. The past is here, preserved simultaneous to the unfolding events of today, and not just due to the historical plaques adorning every other building. To be sure, without these plaques how would the average tourist know that in this house lived Ahad Haam, or that in the house around the corner Sholem Aleichem rented his apartment; and that a mere 30 steps from there Haim Nahman Bialik dreamed and created his poetic works- Beyond this detailed documentation, however, some of which appears in Hebrew, one can simply wander the paved streets and soak up the atmosphere, the same atmosphere that some 100 years ago nourished the generation of giants who led and inspired the resurrection of the Jewish people. The city's Jewish population is almost entirely gone -- a portion perished in the Holocaust, some immigrated to Israel while some found other countries to make their homes -- but the atmosphere that encompassed this creative Jewish community is still remarkably palpable. To be sure, no one is discussing a restoring past glories, nor are they raising the prospect of returning Jewish property. There were hundreds of synagogues in Odessa, which were confiscated and nationalized throughout the previous century by the various government authorities. One of these synagogues, a magnificent building on a central street, was converted back to its original function and now serves as the city's main synagogue. Another synagogue, no less splendid, is slated to be returned to the Jewish community in two years' time. The others are not expected to be returned to Jewish hands. Jabotinsky himself lived in six different places in Odessa. The longest period at one address spanned his childhood and teenage years. Today, this story is told by a large plaque in the shape of a mezuzah, lying at the foot of a sculpture of Samson, an ode to Jabotinsky's famous novel "Samson the Nazarite." Another novel he wrote -- "The Five" -- which describes the unique atmosphere of the Jewish Odessans at the turn of the 20th century, was dramatized and presented on stage several years ago in Odessa's main theatre. Generally speaking, Jabotinsky's legacy today is a sought-after commodity in Odessa. The "Jabotinsky Days" events were attended by many youngsters, the vast majority of whom have no familial connections to Jews. Jabotinsky's university lectures have become the focus of fascinating symposiums, and local students have sought insights into the advice he would offer them and their country, were he to visit his city of birth today. During the Soviet era, all historical artefacts pertaining to the Zionist leader were erased and hidden by the authorities. A local professor, however, told me he had read "The Five," which he found as a child in a regular library -- signed by Jabotinsky with his pseudonym "Altalena." Thus, the Soviet censors never guessed the identity of the author, and left the "dangerous" book on the library shelf. Today, on the other hand, any historical detail commemorating the founding father of the Zionist and Revisionist movements' Odessan past is highlighted and cherished. This is symbolically expressed on Odessa's Boulevard of Stars, which is adjacent to the grand opera house in the city center. In this place, which Odessan's view as a type of glitzy mix between Times Square and the Champs-Elysees, Jabotinsky has his own star. We can agree that even in Israel, the leader of the Beitar movement doesn't receive such lofty celebrity status. Ariel Bolstein is the founder of the Israel advocacy organization Faces of Israel.
