Today is February 7, 2025 /
Today is February 7, 2025 /
Shabbat Candlelighting This Week: 5:02pm | Shabbat Ends: 6:03pm
Blog Post #10 – Day 9 – Door L’Door
As one tour participant noted, you could do a trip to Morocco and just explore the doors and gates. Doors appear to be very important in the architecture of all buildings, especially mosques, city gates, and palaces. So, as you can see in the pictures below, doors might be big enough for a giant to fit through standing up, but in most such gigantic doors, there is a small door cut into one side that is small enough to require a person to awkwardly step up and over and also to duck their head. There is no running through these openings and anyone who passes through bows their head forcing an expression of respect and humility.
The Sultans built massive gates for their cities, the bigger the better. Today, we explored the city of Meknes, once the capital city (each dynasty of sultans and kings chose a different city as their home base) and, due to its French architectural style, often referred to as the Paris of Morocco. Like so many cities here, it has a famous gate, The Bab Mansour Gate. It is one of the largest gates in the world standing almost 100 feet tall and 40 feet wide.
The Bab Mansour Gate was not built to protect the city, but to celebrate the power of Sultan Bab Moulay Ismail’s victory over the Moors in 1672. Moulay Ismail was a ruthless leader and by legend he lined the ramparts of the walls of Meknes with the heads of his fallen enemies – yuck. He commissioned the gate’s architect to build him the biggest gate possible, and it is impressive. When it was completed, he asked the architect, “Could you build me an even bigger gate?” The architect replied in the affirmative, which was the wrong answer. If he could build a bigger one, then this wasn’t the biggest possible, and so his head joined the others atop the wall of Meknes. It begs the question – are these impressive structures really a sign of power, or of insecurity?
It is a bit like the pharaohs in the Torah portions we are reading right now. They built their giant tombs to ensure that they would never be forgotten, and yet, as the names of the rulers are mostly forgotten to all but the most dedicated Egyptologists, these giant edifices have become a symbol of their weakness and insecurity as much as of their might. In Judaism we don’t worry about the size of our doors as much as the size of our “dors” or generations.
This fact was on clear display in the evening when we arrived at the current capital city of Rabat. We were hosted for dinner in the Maleh (Jewish Quarter), by an older Jewish woman named Crystal. We were in her humble apartment in this place where few Jews still live. Yet proudly displayed on the walls were wedding and bar mitzvah photos of her children, none of whom still live in Morocco.
As with all of the Jews here, this seems to be okay with her. It doesn’t really matter where their children, though Israel seems to be everyone’s ideal. These Moroccan Jews are just happy to know their heritage and faith will continue in the next generation. That is a better monument and insurance of continuity than any giant gate or pyramid – dor l’dor, generation to generation.
And so, Crystal is happy to provide kosher meals in her home to Jewish folks who are exploring this fascinating country. But her heart is in Israel and wherever her children are – a universal Jewish value here in Morocco, in the US, and anywhere else Jews may be. Things here may be very different, but for Jews, at their root, they are kind of the same.
Blog Post #9 – Day 8 – The Five Things You Need for a Community
We explored Fez by craft district. This wasn’t just a grouping of merchants, but a way of life for the tradesman and artisans of Fez. We spent time in the leather district, the textile district, the rug district, the woodworking district, and the ceramics district. There are many more that we didn’t get to see, for spices, baked goods, woodwork, copper smithing, just to name a few. There are no formal lines dividing these areas, as far as we could tell, in the twisty maze of the Fez Medina (inside the walled city). The medina boasts over 9,000 alleys and 12,000 dead ends. We were awfully grateful for our guide and the two additional friends, Fez natives, we hired for the day to make sure we didn’t get separated and lost.
We learned that each area was formally commissioned by the city and required five things: a mosque, a school, a fountain (open to the public for drinking), a bakery and a Hamam (public spa). It reminded me of a teaching form the Babylonian Talmud (Sanhedrin 17b): A talmud hacham (Torah scholar) is not allowed to live in a city that does not have these 10 things: a bit din (law court) that metes out punishments; a tzedakah fund that is collected by two people and distributed by three, a synagogue; a bath house (mikveh); a bathroom; a doctor; a craftsperson; a blood-letter; (some versions add a butcher); and a teacher of children.”
It is interesting to view a culture by what is required to have a community. What are the requirements of ours? A post office, a school, a court…It is also a less morbid way to find out about a culture than the cemetery (see post #8)!
We had a great time exploring these different areas, many of which maintain the medieval techniques for producing goods that are by necessity, organic, slow, and often producing a higher quality. Our group had an awfully good time supporting the local craftsman by shopping, and even got to make some ceramics and mosaics of our own. Don’t be surprised when you see the appearance of Berber rugs, pottery, and leather goods in the homes of our intrepid travelers!
Blog Post #8 – Day 8 – Sephardic Means Moroccan
Today we explored Fez, a bit out of the way, but worth the schlep. Fez is considered the heart of Islam in Morocco, as well as the heart of the Jewish community in its day. Here we were able to explore ancient synagogues and schools, as well as the cemetery. There are only a few Jews left here and all function only as museums now. The exploration of the Jewish cemeteries here has been particularly interesting. I know it sounds morbid, but you learn a lot about a culture and a place’s history by visiting its cemeteries. Both the adoption of a more Islamic burial style (similar to the one used in Israel) and the ever-presence of toads of “tzaddikim” tells a lot about the Judaism here.
In fact, I had a bit of a revelation over the past week. We, with our Eurocentric perspective on Jewish history, usually say Ashkenazi Jewry formed and flourished in Southern Germany and France before moving its center to Eastern Europe and Sephardic Judaism formed and flourished in Spain before spreading around the world in 1492. On its surface, this is more or less correct, but with reference to Sephardic Jewry, it is also misleading.
The Iberian Peninsula was ruled by three dynasties of Moroccan Moors from the 700s to the 1400s. Not only is that an incredibly long time for Spain to be under the influence of their Moroccan rulers, it is roughly the entire period of the development of Sephardic Jewry. In other words, Sephardic Judaism didn’t develop on its own in Spain, it was an export from Morocco!
How so? Moroccan Jewry developed in two stages. There are those known as the “Tushavim,” who date themselves back to the destruction of the Second Temple in 70CE. Some even argue that early tushavim arrived after the destruction of the First Temple in 586BCE, a theory that is possible, but somewhat less widely accepted. Either way, Judaism was developing in Morocco long before it arrived on the Iberian Peninsula.
The second stage was the arrival of the “Megurashim” or the scattered ones, who came in stages due to persecution in the Iberian Peninsula, particularly during the rule of the zealots of the Almohad Dynasty. It was during their rule that Moses Maimonides came to Morocco and settled for a time in Fez to study at the Kairaouine University (founded in 859, it is the oldest University the world). He had to pretend to be a Muslim in order to gain entry, which he did. All that is left to remind us of his presence here is a worn out sign by the doorway of his home, but it was still pretty cool to stand in that doorway and imagine him, dressed like a good Muslim student (under the Almohads the Jews had to where different colored clothing) coming home from a day of secular studies that would lead him to be a philosopher and physician, as well as a leading rabbinic authority.
More on our experiences in Fez in my next blog post…
Blog Post #7 – Day 7 – Hilulah of the Baba Sali Sameach
After a lovely Shabbat in Marrakesh which involved another visit to our very expressive friends at the Beit El Synagogue a visit to a Palace and to the Saadian Tombs (a burial ground for Medieval rulers who made Marrakesh their capital, which also happens to house a number of architectural wonders), we headed for Fez. It was an all day bus ride, our full only travel day of the trip. Luckily, we were not without entertainment.
On the bus we watched the Hitchcock classic “The Man Who Knew to Much,” starring James Stewart and Doris Day. The movie was released in 1956 and though obviously dated, it was a great way to see the cities of Casablanca and Marrakesh and allowed unto reflect on our journey as we left the latter city. After all of our Shabbat experiences, many expressed that they’d really come to know and love the city. Many plan to return and are eager to share it with others.
Part of the charm is Morocco’s distinct character and the tremendous warmth of its people. When we started planning this trip, a few people, even some of the ones who ended up joining the group, expressed concern about traveling to an Arab country particularly with all that’s gone on the last year. We were assured time and again that Morocco is different, but we never really got the explanation why. Now it is clear.
Morocco does not really consider itself an Arab country, and while we from so far away may think of it as “in that part of the world” the truth is that it is a long way from here to the Arabian Peninsula. While ethnic Arabs make up a majority of the population, they are closely followed by Berbers, or Amazigh as they prefer to be called, the indigenous people of this Northern African region. The ethnic diversity leads to an interesting philosophical approach. While the official religion is Islam, most people, if not the government itself, are accepting of diverse world views. “We are all descended from the same mother and father,” I have been told more than once on this trip, “mutual respect is the most important religion.” It is said verbatim, and so it certainly seems like someone is teaching promoting that philosophy here. It makes the feeling here warm and accepting, a nice place to travel.
As we road to Fez we stopped at a rest step to eat our kosher chicken salad boxed lunch, and, unbeknownst to my fellow travelers, to celebrate the Hilulah often Baba Sali. Baba Sali was on elf the Moroccan mystics I think I referred to in an earlier post. He was descended from a long line of Kabbalists on the mystical trail from Spain to Tzvat. Sunday, the 4th of the Hebrew month of Shevat, was his yahrzeit. However, one of the strange feeling customs of the local Jewish community is to celebrate these anniversaries of death with a huge celebration. And so we did.
Baba Sali’s custom was to meet with a person, serve a shot of Arak and over the drink they would pray for ultimate redemption and the coming of Moshiach. So, we poured shots of Arak for everyone and went around the circle making prayers and drinking up. The prayers ranged from wishes for the return of all the hostages to blessings for our journey to hopes for friends and family in need of miracles. It was all very much in the Baba Sali tradition and it made the rest of the ride a lot more fun, well, except for those of us who used the influence of the Arak to get a really nice nap in – like me.
Hilulah of the Baba Sali Sameach – may all the prayers for healing, success, and redemption made this past Sunday be fulfilled speedily in our days.
Blog Post #6 – Day 5 – Found in Translation
Friday night was definitely one of the most unique and special Shabbat evenings many of us have ever spent. First, we attended services at a local synagogue and got the full, traditional Moroccan Jewish experience – the Sephardic chanting was beautiful, if exotic, and the sense of fraternity among the faithful was palpable, at least in the men’s section. All Judaism here is traditional, which makes our prayer experiences a bit challenging, but we are making compromises to learn about the culture here.
Our arrival was a bit jarring as we were greeted by shushing and frowning faces. Quickly though, we realized that those gestures were not aimed at us. The regulars were scolding each other and definitely letting their opinions about anyone else’s behavior be known to everyone. “What an uncomfortable atmosphere for prayer,” I thought to myself. “At least in our nice polite congregation in New York, everyone treats each other with respect and courtesy.” Who would want to come here regularly?
Then I noticed that after someone would get shushed, they would see a little smile at the corners of his mouth. And so, it occurred to me. Politeness is something you reserve for friends, like the friendships we encourage at WJC. We are good at it, and it makes me kvell regularly. But scolding, that’s reserved for family – and these guys are like family to each other. Of the once thousands of Jews in the Marrakesh Jewish community, only eighty remain!
What we were witnessing in these gestures of familiarity was the bickering of family, and in it, I sensed love and shared sadness and hope. Even though I kind of wished I would get a shush, I wasn’t familiar enough – I understood. Still, I felt no less of a family connection to these very Sephardic cousins. This, I thought, is what it means to be part of a diverse, beautiful, global people.
We had dinner at the home of one of these gentlemen, Yitzhak Ohana, and his wife Gloria. They were exceptional hosts and the food, mirth, and singing was plentiful. With some help from Seth Schafler, our folks did us all proud, singing loud and proud with real ruach (spirit). Yitzhak got up to explain some of the facts of Jewish life in Marrakesh. Unfortunately, among his French, Arabic, Judeo-Arabic and who knows how many other languages, Yitzhak did not speak English. I am embarrassed to say, though I can get by conversing in Hebrew, I am no translator. We were at a loss, until someone suggested our Berber guide Momo could translate from Arabic to English for us.
And so it was, this Moroccan Jew explained the situation of his community to us in Arabic. Then our Muslim guide translate the thoughts to English for his audience of New York Jews – just wow. Now we were linked not only as Jews, but also as good people, respecting each other and literally creating understanding through each other’s presence and efforts. Something very special was found in that moment of translation.
Ian Winters asked a reasonable, “Do you have a plan for attracting new Jews to Marrakesh to rejuvenate your community?” It is exactly as we think as Americans, but Yitzhak found the question flabbergasting. “Of course not,” he explained, “Now we have Israel. Our children live in Israel, and we hope all Jews will live there. We are just here making sure the Moroccan Jewish community is not forgotten, to maintain the customs and the memory.” I have been thinking about his answer a lot since Friday night (I am writing this post on Sunday).
What must it be like to oversee the intentional relocation of your community to Israel and be the last to turn the lights off? It is an emotional state that is both sad and hopeful all at once. There should be a word for that combination of feelings. If you think of one, let me know.
Sorry – No pictures of Shabbat.
Blog Post #5 – Day 5 – Is Luxury Desert an Oxymoron?
Today we had a short day for touring as it is Friday and Hachanat Shabbat (preparing for Shabbat) is an important part of the mitzvah of keeping Shabbat. We needed time to shower and change in the afternoon, and some of us would need it more than others, to get the camel slobber off our clothes!
Yes, today we headed for the Agafar Desert, the small rockier desert just outside of Marrakesh near the high Atlas Mountains. There we went to the Boheme Luxury Desert resort for camel rides and a traditional Berber meal. The camels were bit more ornery than the ones I’ve ridden before in Israel and so their heads were tied very, VERY, close to the camel in front of them. Close enough, in fact, for them to wipe their maws on the pants of the rider of the next forward camel. Camel spit – yuck!
Despite the close proximity to camel mouths, the ride was spectacular, as was the resort – a veritable oasis in the desert. The particularly bad attitude of my camel, as evidenced by the excessive slobber on the leg of the rider in front of me, was due to her being the mother of Jemihah, the baby camel prancing next to me the whole ride. IMHO, totally worth it (of course, my leg was dry).
The color of the rose-colored sand and the azure sky contrasting and complimenting one another were a sight to behold! The snow-capped High Atlas Mountains made a majestic backdrop sheltering the resort in three directions. We ate a fabulous lunch of salads (I recommend the sweet pumpkin squash salad) and vegetarian tagines, sitting on cushions around low tables, under a palm frond overhang, near the luxurious pool. The pleasant desert breeze blowing through the palm leaves that lined the overhang sounded just like light rain. In the warm sun, with a full belly and the pleasant sound of the leaves and the good people around me, I drifted off into one of the best 10-minute power naps of my life. Maybe “luxury desert” isn’t such an oxymoron after all!
Blog Post #4 – Day 4 – How Many Vowels Are There in Essaouira
Shabbat Shalom WJC Family! How Many Vowels are There in Essaouira? More than the number of Jews left there. Today we explored the gorgeous seaside city of Essaouira, about a three-hour ride from Marrakesh and totally worth the trip! Essaouira once boasted a thriving Jewish community led by the great tzaddik (see yesterday’s blog post), Rabbi Chaim Pinto. The place was bustling with the leader of the province supporting Jewish traders and the leading sardine fishing business in all of Morocco (a primary provider of sardines to the world). But when the provincial leader moved to another city and the sardine trade sis as well, the Jews left to seek better economic opportunities elsewhere in the country.
Left in Essaouira are the remnants and relics of that community. A beautiful synagogue on the upper level of the preserved home of Rabbi Chaim Pinto. Another synagogue was converted into the “House of Memory” – a museum dedicated to the memory of Jews and Muslims coexisting in the city in peace and prosperity, and a cemetery. The cemetery isn’t as big as the one in Marrakesh, but it is beautiful, built right on the sea and boasting the tomb of Rabbi Chaim Pinto, one of the most ornate I have ever seen, including a chapel for those coming to seek miracles in the name of his neshama (spirit). It is a testament to how highly the Moroccan Jews regarded their tzaddikim that the nicest piece of real estate in town was reserved for Rabbi Pinto’s tomb!
The city itself was also a highlight, nestled there by the sea. On our way there we visited a Women’s Cooperative that creates Argan Oil by hand. When it comes to argan oil, if you know, you know. It is a “magic” ingredient for the hair, skin, and cooking. It promotes all kinds of health, but from what I gather, it is particularly popular in the US for reducing hair frizz. Part of the magic in this case is that the cooperative employs 50 women, divorcees, widows, and others in need, who would otherwise have difficulty supporting themselves. The government helps fund the cooperative and I assure you we did too.
Tomorrow, Friday, we are heading to the desert for the day and then will have a quick turnaround for Shabbat. So, my next blog post won’t come before business hours on Monday. In the meantime, wishing a Shabbat Shalom for all of you, for Agam Berger, Arbel Yehoud, and Gadi Mozes (welcome home!!!), and the five Thai workers freed today and all their families, and for those still held and all of their families, and for all of us riding the difficult emotional waves of the hostage situation, and maybe a little more peace for the whole world – from this corner of it to the one you are in – Shabbat Shalom.
Blog Post #3 – Day 3 – Marrakesh Express
On Wednesday morning we made our way from Casablanca to Marrakesh, a two-and-a-half-hour drive into a different world. Casablanca reminded us of Tel Aviv. It is a city on the sea with older white apartment buildings whose ground floors feature all kinds of shops. One difference – the signs are in English and Arabic instead of English and Hebrew. Like Tel Aviv, contemporary high-rise towers spring up among the older buildings and construction cranes dot the skyline.
Marrakesh is more like a city in America’s Southwest. 70 kilometers inland from the sea, it is already more of a desert climate. The buildings are made of the local dark pink sandstone earning it the nickname “The Red City.” Spanish and Portuguese Jews came to the red city in the 1490s following the expulsion from those countries. They were welcomed by the sultan but were not allowed to settle inside the city walls (medina). Instead, the ruler granted them a piece of land just outside the city walls (it just happened to be a direction in which he wanted the city to grow), and that are became the “melah,” the area where Jews were allowed to settle. The local Jewish cemetery was filled founded in 1537 and the melah was granted in 1557.
There is a melah in every major city we will be visiting, Casablanca, Marrakesh, Fez, and Rabat. Unlike the ghettos imposed on the Jewish population by Europeans, it seems the Jewish refugees who founded these communities were more than happy to maintain some separation from their Muslim hosts. The Jewish merchants, and the community in general, thrived in Marrakesh. In particular, the Melah here became the leaders of the spice trade (much like diamonds today, international connections and fraternal trust gave the scattered Jewish people ideal conditions for succeeding in the spice trade). So today, we wandered through the twisting streets and alleys of the melah, amazed by the colors and quantities of spices around us – spices from plants, minerals, and some we couldn’t identify abounded.
We had the opportunity to visit an ancient Lazama Synagogue and school founded somewhere around the time of the melah (early 1500s, though the exact dates unknown), and the 52 dounam (like an acre) walled cemetery with its 20,000 graves. Particularly of interest are the 600 “tzaddikim” buried here. The Jewish history here is rich in kabbalah. Kabbalah as we know it began in the 1300s and 1400s. It travelled with the refugees of the expulsion here to Morocco and eventually to Israel where it evolves with the holy men of Tzvat, Israel in the 1500s and 1600s. Morocco continued to be an important hub of kabbalah for centuries and the tzaddikim were the mystical sages here, reputed miracle workers and spiritual healers. Their graves are colored blue, just like the graves of the great kabbalisitic sages in the cemetery of Tzvat.
We wrapped up our day with a visit to a Berber apothecary where we received a lesson in homeopathic medicine. The Berber culture is renowned for its natural cures. People bought everything from spices for homemade Tajins (a signature cooking style and dish of Morocco) to spice treatments for allergies to oils one can put on the underside of one’s pillow for a better night’s sleep. And it’s a good thing too – between jetlag and these full days, sleep is a precious commodity that many of us have had trouble getting. Worth it of course!
Tomorrow, we will leave town and drive to the coast to Essaouira, once home of a thriving Jewish community and the world capital of argan oil. It will be Rosh Hodesh Shevat (the first day of the new Hebrew month of Tzvat), so what better way to celebrate he month of Tu B’SHevat than a visit to Argan tree groves? Hodesh Tov!
Blog Post #2 – Day 2 – Scratch the Surface, Find Jewish History
On Tuesday, our first full day in Casablanca, Moroccan native, Jewish researcher, and tour guide, Raphael David Elmaleh told us how he started discovering the Jewish history of Morocco. He took a trip into the Atlas Mountains to a town he heard once had a Jewish community. He went to a local restaurant for lunch. There were two older Berber men talking. He realized that it might not be the best idea to walk up to them and say, “Hey, what do you know about Jews here?” But he realized he had come all this way and didn’t really have any other recourse, so that’s exactly what he did.
One of the men said, “Jews? What took you so long?” Raphael didn’t understand the question, so the Berber man said, “Follow me.” They walked into the town to a building that looked abandoned and ran down, but fairly well preserved. The man handed Raphael a key and said, “This building belonged to the Jews here. Fifty years ago, the man who ran it left and gave us the key. He told us that we should hold onto the key and when someone comes around asking about the Jewish community and its belongings, we should give the key to him. So, what took you so long?” Raphael was gob smacked, but took the key and went inside. There he found the old synagogue, more or less exactly how it had been left by the Jews of the town.
He asked about holy books and the man explained that they were underneath the synagogue. “We saw the Jews carry them down there and place them. But we know the Jews cursed the place that if any one of us goes in there we will be bitten by a scorpion.” Suddenly it all made sense. The Moroccans, especially the ones in the mountains, are a people of faith (read superstitious) and they dared but touch the “cursed” Jewish sites. So, when Raphael entered the genizah under the synagogue he found not only sacred scrolls and books, but the silver and textile vessels of Jewish worship – rimonim and crowns for the top of the Torah, hanukiyot, Megillah cases, etc. – an incredible store of valuables right in the middle of this poor area. Only the “curse” had kept it from being looted!
Raphael spent the next several years going from town to town all over the country reaching the artifacts of Jewish communities long gone, and all the while the caches of Jewish artifacts remained untouched. Scratch the surface of almost any settled area of this country, and you’ll find a Jewish community. Why did these caches survive even after word got out that incredible wealth was stored beneath the old Jewish building? The explanation that Raphael survived the scorpion curse was that he was Jewish. No one else would dare enter those abandoned Jewish spaces. The Jewish Museum of Morocco, and others around the world, are now filled with the stunning works of ancient Jewish craftsmanship. So, we (and historians) can be grateful for the reverence and power Moroccan culture places on the Jewish leaders who lived here. While it did not necessarily help the Jews when they lived here, it has insured that those communities will always be part of the history, culture and landscape of this country,
Here in Casablanca, while even the most beautiful of the synagogues (Beth El synagogue – yes, those guys have franchises everywhere!) are relatively modest edifices, the mosques are grand and ornate. Especially the Mosque Mohammed V, built in honor of the revered king by his son. It is a magnificent building, built literally on the Atlantic Ocean, to fulfill the verse of the Koran, “God’s throne rests upon the sea.” The mineret, at 60 stories, is one of the tallest in the world. The materials are muted marbles and cedar wood evoking a giant Venetian palace as much as anything else. It makes some sense since the Venetians were the first to master the art of building on water. And while the mosque evokes a Medieval beauty, since it was actually built from 1986-1992 (just six years, an incredible feat of construction) for a price tag of $700,000,000, it boasts all kinds of modern adaptations, like heated floors, speakers built subtly into the pillars, and most impressively, a giant retractable roof made of two 500-ton slabs that slide apart! I’ve included a couple of pictures of the mosque and the Beth El synagogue.
We also had time to tour the melah (the Jewish areas of each city) and various parts of the city. While we feel safe (a feeling helped by an uninvited, but welcome, police escort almost everywhere we go (they have a whole tourism police force to protect us and that industry – tourism is an essential part of the Moroccan economy), there are signs of the unrest and radicalism spreading throughout the Arab world. For example, we passed multiple bookstores with Arab translations of Hitler’s Mein Kampf displayed prominently in the window. While Morocco remains more or less a bridge connecting and balancing the Arab and Western worlds, we are reminded that we need to pray for rationality, morality, and goodness to stand strong in the face of disturbing currents all around the globe, including here.
Blog Post #1, Day 1 – Play It Again Momo
After what seemed like a very short flight, we arrived in Casablanca. It was, in fact, shorter than I was expecting, because the only country I have ever flown to where Arabic is spoken is Israel. That’s a ten-hour flight and I guess my brain took the shortcut “another place where people speak Arabic, must be the same amount of time.” In fact, Morocco is clear on the other side of Africa, and Africa it turns out, is a rather large continent. So, this flight was under six hours, and we were deplaning early in the morning before we’d had a chance to notice we’d been asleep!
Two things were immediately striking – 1) Casablanca is in fact a beautiful seaside city on the Atlantic Coast of Northeast Africa and 2) the airport was so misty in the morning that it made me want to turn to the person next to me and say “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
After a quick and easy journey through the King Mohammed V Airport, we met our guide whose name is also Mohammed, though his nickname is Momo. From the airport we took the 45-minute drive into the city and to the Jewish Museum, the only officially sanctioned Jewish Museum in an Arab country! On the way, Momo regaled us with the unique history of country in such detail that tired as we were, a few of us wanted to say, “Frankly Momo, I don’t give a damn.” jk. (Okay, I promise no more corny Casablanca references, but it is hard to resist).
In fact, the story is interesting, Momo is himself a member of one of the Southern Berber tribes – the Berbers are indigenous to the area, and include the Moors who ruled Spain for over 700 years from 711CE-1492CE. The story goes that many early Berbers converted to Judaism after Jews came East following the destruction of the Second Temple in 70CE. The Jews settled in Morocco then and their influence on the Berbers and Moroccan culture appears have been great. So great in fact that the Jews are considered to be an indigenous people of Morocco just like the Berbers. Another unique feature of Jewish Morocco almost unheard of anywhere else in the world. The Preamble to the Moroccan Constitution enshrines the status of the Jews here:
A sovereign Muslim State, attached to its national unity and to its territorial integrity, the Kingdom of Morocco intends to preserve, in its plentitude and its diversity, its one and indivisible national identity. Its unity is forged by the convergence of its Arab-Islamist, Berber [amazighe] and Saharan-Hassanic [saharo-hassanie] components, nourished and enriched by its African, Andalusian, Hebraic and Mediterranean influences [affluents].
On more unique thing about Morocco: unlike other Arab countries, and in keeping with the values of the passage above, the Jews were never expelled from this country. Of course, something had to happen to take the Jewish population from over 350,000 pre-World War II to just a few thousand in today. But more on that in a future blog post.
The museum, housed in a lovely villa formerly owned by a Jewish family in a posh Casablanca neighborhood was filled with Jewish artifacts from all over the country. Most of the communities that created the plethora of beautiful ritual items and fine crafts no longer exist. These items were locked away in abandoned synagogue buildings only to be discovered decades later by a researcher, Raphael David Elmaleh. Elmaleh traveled all around the country discovering and collecting these items. Eventually became the only Jewish certified tour guide in the Arab world (only one in the Arab world is a theme that comes up here a lot).
Following a delicious lunch at the kosher restaurant Chez Michel, we headed to the Neve Shalom School and synagogue community. We were hosted by the director of the institution, Rabbi Jackie Sebaag. His presentation was entertaining and informative, but also sad. The school once housed 15,000 students. Now there are just over 150. The numbers reflect the decline of the once great Jewish community in Casablanca, from over 100,000 people to 1,500 today. Still the first thing I heard when we arrived was a classroom of children singing the Shema, repeating after their teacher again and again to a tune I did not know but that immediately melted my heart. The tunes may be different, but the sound of Jewish children learning the same words a world away, that’s as good a definition of Klal Yisrael – Jewish connectedness – as one might find.
Between the school and the museum (not to mention the exhaustion) one cannot help but feel a mix of wonder at the vibrancy of the once great Jewish community of Morocco and sadness at its decline and seemingly inevitable demise. Still, there is so much we have yet to discover and quite a journey it looks like it will be! Tomorrow, we will explore the city, check out the Mosque Hassan II, the biggest synagogue in Morocco, a kosher bakery (did I mention that we ate at two amazing kosher restaurants today!?!), and see our first Mellah, the isolated Jewish Quarters that each city boasts. They keep telling us that they were not ghettos, but there is clearly some explaining to do. More to come!
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