UNEXPECTED
PLEASURES OF AN ENCOUNTER AT THE SYNGAGOUE IN RANGOON!
Burma,
or its modern name, Myanmar, had offered welcome to Iraqi Jewish merchants. At
that time, much of the British administration of “India” (later to become
India, Burma, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Pakistan, as well as Penang, Malacca
and Singapore) was based in Calcutta. It was only natural that Iraqi Jews who
had settled in Calcutta were attracted to this beautiful, bountiful, golden land.
The number of Jewish souls had always been small but the dramatic turn in the
politics of this once fertile country post independence from Britain guaranteed
an exodus of freedom loving, entrepreneurial subjects among them Jews.
I
visited the synagogue for the first time in 2003 and made the acquaintance of
Mr Moshe Samuels whose son Sammy was studying at Yeshiva University in New York
at that time. The father was the gabbai, the caretaker and de facto leader of
the dwindling number of souls.
It
was 10 am, I was supposed to be at the airport by 11 30 am to check in for a
flight to Bangkok on my way to Siem Reap. My heart told me that I must visit
the synagogue, at least to say a prayer for those close to me, and say Kaddish
for Cecil Hellman and Joel Glaser.
The
taxi parked on the 23rd street and I made my way through the crowded pavements
towards 25th street, along Mahabandoola street which remains
unchanged ever since my first visit, one could buy anything and everything,
camphor balls, locks, screwdrivers to tighten your spectacles, to give some
examples, this is one of the last streets selling merchandise like this in this
part of the world or anywhere else for that matter. As I managed my way past
teeming bodies, the chanting from the nearby pagoda was soothing.
Visiting
a Jewish community in the throes of becoming a memory is never easy for me,
even though it has my life long interest. I am sure in the years to come, some
Burmese would begin claiming to be Jewish or of Jewish descent , such as we see
in Kaifeng in China or Iquitos in Peru among other places. It is a phenomenon
of modern times, claiming identity from vanished or vanishing groups of people,
by those who have more than spiritual reasons to do so. Along with the Research
Dean of the School of International Affairs in Havana, we have published a long
article on the False Tainos of Cuba, people who claim to be Taino Indians,
insulting the memory of the Tainos who all but disappeared few years after the
arrival of the Spaniards in their land.
When
it takes courage to declare ones identity publicly (Inquision and the Nazi era
for us), that is when your identity becomes culturally associated. No outsider
claims to be Quiche in Guatemala or Quechua in Peru, there is no selfish
cultural advantage in such claims as both Quiche and Quechua are marginalized
groups. But it is not the case with Ayamaras (Evo Morales of Bolivia is an
Ayamara) or Mapuche of southern Chile, and of course many, in Easter Island, would like to identity themselves as Rapa Nui
even if they have no claims to do so.
Hawaii is full of people claiming to be native heritage, as Native
Hawaiians are a disappearing race and culture. This only emphasizes my claim
that Cultural Identity and its quest is a strong one, and as my favourite poet
Pablo Neruda would say:
Un
alma sin raices es una injusticia
A
soul without roots is an injustice.
I
was glad to see Moshe Samuels, a warm greeting was exchanged. I disappeared in to
the synagogue wearing my kippah made by Sarah Cohen of Cochin. I noticed there
were a group of tourists, but this group was showing more than a cursory
interest. I said my rememberances, and decided to take photographs of the
synagogue which is a good example of Asian jewish architecture, in the sefardic
tradition. The ark was open and I prayed for the Little ones and the weak ones
who need protection.
An
asian lady approaches me , asks me my favourite complimentary question:
Are
you from here? are you from Myanmar?
I
am very happy when people ask me that question: are you from India, Pakistan,
Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Malaysia or Singapore and it is always good to be
mistaken for a local in so many different countries! In Latin America, I am
mistaken for a Brasilian, because of my Portuguese tinged accent when I speak
Spanish!! I love it.
No,
I am from Cuba. But I am a Jew.
(remembering that line from Marcel Aymee: I, said the man, am a Jew)
The
question came from a lady, a certain curiosity etched into her face, was from
Malaysia. She is interested in raising general awareness about minorities
living in South East Asia. Of course an average Malaysian is ignorant about the
Jews because of the government sponsored propaganda, including vitriolic
statements from the former Prime Minister Mahathir (about blood drinking Jews)
and a politics dictated more by frivolity than knowledge. Malaysian citizens
are not allowed to travel to Israel, Moslems under no conditions but Christians
under group travel for religious pilgrimage are allowed to visit the Holy
Places. It would be nice for these descendants of comverted moslems in south
east asia to know that the only in Israel, dissent is right of the arab
speaking populations and also that the freest Arabic press in the world is in
Israel. Moslems living in Israel are welcome to criticize the government ,
publish their opinions whereas Malaysia was recently enacting rules about
Sedition, Sodomy and exclusive rights to the word Allah! Malaysian Moslem
politicians are well known to avoid answering questions, the Malaysian citizen
especially those who are erudite among the Chinese and Indians have resigned
themselves to not getting any answers to their questions.
For
the next few minutes, this curious and knowledgeable lady, in conversation, we
covered a whole array of subjects, Jewish and Minority history in south east
Asia , including the Hindu Cham in Mae Son in Vietnam, the Moslem Cham in
Cambodia and its resurgence as a strong religious community and their
identification with Malays of Malaysia! and the turbulent Muslim population of
Burma.
The
entire group now had gathered, a Burmese man, possibly a guide; two very sweet Filipinas,
a northern European who reminded me of the Hospitality Interns at Double Tree
Hotel in KL (of Dutch nationality)
I
was genuinely exhilarated by talking to them, especially to NAT. In Asia,
discourses are not encouraged (It is a pleasure in Europe, USA, Cuba or
Argentina) and when you meet curious people, one is indeed excited. Curiosity
is the sign of intelligence , I remember a Rabbi telling me years ago.
So
it was a great moment for me, the synagogue, Moshe Samuels, a new friend NAT,
from Malaysia a country that I am fond of, two sweet Filipinas. The patient
taxi driver, U Zaw Zaw, waiting for me at the 23rd street !
I
thought of all other encounters at this very same synagogue, the American lady
who wrote the book on Burmese Jews, NO from Takoaka, my brother Eliyahu, my
then good friend MC from Seri Kembangan and how can I forget the sweet giggling
faces of the hat selles of Chaungtha beach when they visited the synagogue with
me, they were intrigued that this was the pagoda of their Dr Aung Khant.
I
will write to Sammy Samuels , to ask about his father and offer any help he may
need.
Are
you socialists, asked NAT
In
Cuba, we are socialists but we are dancing socialists, said I..
