Bananas & Dates: Ladies Camp in Lonavla

Bombay Ladies Camp Packing List, April 2006

4 large plastic buckets for tie-dye
One newsprint-wrapped package of rubber bands
9 packets of fabric dye
Good sense of humor
Clothespins and string
50 batata wada potatoes sandwiches
Various fried snacks and sweets
Endless mini-cups for chai
Israeli dancing knowledge
35 white scarves
Patience
Kiddush and Shabbat supplies:
Wine
2 kgs. Kadjoor Dates
2 bunches small sweet Kela bananas
Marathi transliterated Siddur
White and blue Shabbat candles

My henna-stained hands keep distracting me as I type this entry on my computer. Still a bit tired from the weekend away with the ladies, I keep recollecting small moments from the four day retreat.

We arrived startlingly on time in Lonavala on Thursday, spending the afternoon traveling through the hill station up to a lookout point. About 25 women, between the ages of twenty to seventy-five, sang Hindi songs on the bus ride, goofed around like school girls.

Shabbat prayers were led by a daughter and granddaughter of noted Bombay Chazzan (prayer leader) of Bombay, who finally had a chance to lift her voice in prayer. The women covered their hair with mutli-colored scarves which we had made that afternoon, and each one greeted one another in the Sephardic style, shaking hands and bringing ones fingers to ones lips: Shabbat shalom, a Sabbath of peace.

Kiddush also was led by a woman, saying the blessing over small Kela (bananas) and sticky sweet Kadjoor (dates), as is the Bene Israel custom here.

Spontaneous dancing began before dinner, outdoors. A circle within the circle of 'Hava Nagila's. One holding up her folds of Saree, another one tying her dupata scarf across her chest like a sporty schoolgirl, a flash and glint of silver anklets and toerings on the many bare feet.

A different night we slathered Wet, cold Henna onto hands, in different patterns. We squeezed lime juice and sugar onto the mixture, deepening the Mehendi color. One woman, Mozel, recreated the Bene Israeli Indian engagement ceremony, moving her hands from my hips to my shoulders thrice in succession, pretending to feed me sweets.

And on Sunday, many months after first meeting her on the Golden Age Retreat, I Finally heard Mrs. Hannaibai – dynamic seventy five year old, white skinned lady- speak English! We decided I would only speak with her in Hindi, and she would show me her english, laughing with me at my mispronounciations.

A particularly impressive highlight of our retreat was the 'Drama of Ruth' activity that began upon our first afternoon at camp on Thursday and finished on Saturday. I had photocopied out the story of Ruth for each woman in english and marahti, and split them up into small groups to preform. Each Act surpassed the one before it, with the women taking different perspectives on the story, focusing at times on the dramatic and comedic aspects of the story.

Wrapping sarees and scarves into costumes and drawing mustaches and goatees to act out different scenes from the book of Ruth, the women learned and lived the story of Ruth and her Mother-in-law, Naomi, who returned back to the land of Israel together after losing their husbands. My favorite session of the camp was the discussion following act six, in which the woman found modern day meanings in the story of Ruth, debated the worthiness of the messages of the story, and related the actions of the characters to life today in their community. The women praised Naomi, the mother in law who assisted her widowed daughter in law in remarrying. They particularly were fond of Boaz, who took Ruth in, cared for her, and married her despite her widowed status. They grasped the story in its entirety and made it their own, taking the messages to heart and relating them to their own experiences. It was incredible.



The memories I take home with me, are these discussions and each individual woman's smiles. Goofy don’t-care-whose-looking grins on rounded faces. Belly laughter, teasing, poking, and hugging. Letting one another speak. Feeling safe to share, cry, raise a voice, ask, remain silent, pray and bless one another. And fully enjoy a weekend together.

Yom HaShoa, Six White Candles

A brief write-up about our Holocaust Remembrance Ceremony at the Jewish Community Center, Mumbai, India.

As Yom Hashoah, Holocaust remembrance day, commenced on the evening of March 24th 2006, India’s Jewish community remembered the six million at a ceremony at the EPJCC hosted by JDC and the Israeli Consulate General in Mumbai.


Mumbai’s Jewish community, alongside diplomatic representatives from Israel, the United States, Poland, Czech Republic, New Zealand, Romania and the Netherlands, heard 15 Indian Jewish youth relate the experiences of individual Jews who died or survived the Nazi excesses. Over 140 individuals were present at the ceremony, including representatives of nearly all Mumbai and Thane synagogues.


The evening included readings of poetry composed during the Holocaust, prayers for remembrance, and the lighting of six candles to commemorate the loss of six million Jewish lives. Participants also viewed “Hope and Beyond”, a photo exhibition showcasing the work of the AJDC in the years during and following the Shoah Holocaust. Following the ceremony, a contemporary film about the Holocaust, The Devil’s Arithmetic, was screened.


Jonathan Solomon, one of the community leaders who participated in the ceremony, was deeply moved by the event and the mood among the participants. “For so long, Indian Jews – who have never known persecution – felt disconnected from the rest of the Jewish world. At this ceremony, though, we joined Jews around the world and shared their agony.”

Seder photos from Ahmedabad

In a strange land...

Happy pesach!

I have just returned from celebrating Passover in the deserts of Gujarat. Camels still walk in lines down the dusty streets of Ahmedebad, and the dry climate provided some relief from humid Mumbai.

Yael and I boarded the early morning Spicejet flight, backpacks and suitcases loaded (at the very last minute!) with Matzah, plague puppets, and other fun activities. We arrived, bleary eyed & blinking into the sun only to be whisked around town: from the community's' one synagogue to the Rifle Club where we would be staying to a visit with the ladies who were baking matza and making all the final preparations for the Seder back to the guesthouse and back for the Seder...

The incredible volunteer staff in Gujarat had done their homework and painstakingly copied out parts of the Haggadah by hand to be read by different members of the community during the Seder. The familiar Beit Maxwell's Haggadoth held their place at each table, along with a single Gujrati transliterated sheet of all the Passover songs, and small glasses that would hold the evenings four required cups of pressed raisin juice. The Seder plates included teen ( three) small, round, hand baked matzot; roasted zeroah shankbones symbolizing the Passover sacrifice; eggs symbolizing spring and renewal; Marror bitter lettuce , green carpas, and date spread haroset. Small tins of hand squeezed lemon juice are used here instead of salt water for dipping, and the entire Passover plate is customarily covered, rather than just the matzah.

Thanks to Mr. Pingle, the Chazan, and everyone's hard work, the Seder ran quite smoothly, with parts being read in English, Hebrew, Gujarati and Marahti. The Kids played guessing games with the cardboard cut-out frogs, locusts, and wild beasts ( aka miniature Tigger doll) found the afikomen, and helped in serving the simple rice, veg and non- veg curries. Wine was spilled directly onto the floor during the mention of the ten plagues, rather than just timidly dipped with pinky finger onto the side of the plate, and the cups washed out in water before refilling. The entire Seder was run outside the synagogue in the courtyard, with the nights' cool breeze and candle light adding to the calm environment.

Another American woman, also in attendance at the Seder, remarked that during this season we recall how we once were strangers in a strange land, when our ancestors were living as Jews in Egypt. These words have never rung more true for me as they have this year. In the Jewish community here and in India at large, every practice and custom here is new, each language and accents unfamiliar. I am beyond lucky beyond words to have been so cared for in these varied and new communities, who know how to treat guests and welcome the stranger. I only hope that I can bring back a small taste of this warmth to the world out there beyond this desert...




this year we are slaves- next year may all be free people.

Mumbai Daily Photo

Mumbai Daily Photo

A friends' new blog- check it out