the 76th anniversary of an indian synagogue

September 1

Today, my friends, is a special day. It is the 76th anniversary of Temple B’nai Israel of Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India. Yes! There are Jews in India! and our group had the pleasure of attending the evening service and celebrating with the Jewish community here. The entire state of Gujarat has 125 Jews, so our group has recently increased the entire states’ total Jewish population by about 10%.

We were welcomed enthusiastically by the temple’s director, a small Indian man wearing a kippah and glasses. He told us we were lucky to be able to pray and understand the meaning of our prayers. Hebrew, according to these Indian Jews, is often reffered to as “the language we do not understand.” Most Indians here speak Gujarati and are therefore not able to understand even the English translation of the Torah.

As people began to trickle in, I couldn’t help but feel that they were merely actors in a play. Indians wearing kippot, men and women seated on separate sides of the temple. It was amazing to see and believe that there are actually Indian Jews, living a dramatically different kind of life from my own – yet moved by the same tradition, the same chants, the same book…I began to sing in my mind Debbie Friedman’s song, “Where ever you go, there’s always someone Jewish…”

I couldn’t quite understand what happened during the service, nor could I recognize much of the Hebrew, as it was chanted straight from the Torah and very quickly. Every once in a while the congregation would respond in unison, “Amen!” but it sounded more like a call to revolution than the soft-sing-songy amen’s I’ve heard in temple.

I spent most of the service glancing around, observing this new species of Jews. I searched for familiar features – big noses? …any comparison was merely coincidental, I think. I was particularly interested in an old woman – thin and frail, white hair tied in a bun, missing teeth, dressed in a green sari. Her bones were almost visible through her thin skin and her eyes were watery with age. She was so Indian, so representative of all these women I’ve visited with in villages here, but I had this historic connection to her, all through the transmission of this one great book.

My eyes landed on other familiar scenes – three fat women sharing a bench, gossiping softly through the prayer, a father with a daughter sitting on either thigh. And I thought of my sister and I as little girls. A boy was invited to the bima, and read from the torah and I thought of my brother…about to be bar mitzvahed, accepting that same invitation in another place in another time. Religion is this incredible time-less, place-less force. And that it exists in almost the same form across time – from India to Hollywood, is really incredible.

During the sermon, the director of the synagogue spoke (they have no rabbi, only a cantor) and shared with us that this corner of India has 5 different religions in represented within only 300 meters. Hinduism, Parsi, Judaism, Islam and Christianity. And after we opened the arc - danced to Hava Negela in front of the Torahs, and put them back inside - we could hear the Muslim call to prayer as the Hebrew chanting was drawing to an end…India is really an incredible place.

In other respects, I feel I am becoming more at peace with being here – which can be a hard thing to do in a city where cows block the streets, cars honk during all hours of the night, and squat toilets are the only option. As I explained in the previous blog entry, living comfortably – happily – peacefully – is a huge challenge here. Each night I shower by pouring buckets of water over my head, I sweat through my shirt during all hours of the day and night (it’s 90 degrees, with 100% humidity, mostly all the time), and when I touch my skin, sweaty dirt comes off of it. (gross, right?)

But, I am trying to take more time for myself, and to appreciate the small beauties that are present in every moment. I find great joy in removing my shows before I enter any home or place of study – feeling my bare feet move over the cool tile. And the smell of my clothes after they’ve dried outside in the sun, and the feeling of cool wet hair. All of these feelings are small and I think we don’t notice them in our regular lives. But when you use all you can to cultivate that inner peace, that sense of appreciation and gratitude toward beauty – these things become great. They can sustain you, and they are a reason to go to temple. Where ever you are - california, new york, or …india!