Excerpts and Anecdotes from Kurdish Jewish Life
Wedding Gifts
In Ma'oz Zion, (today: Mevasseret Zion), on the slopes of Kastel in the Jerusalem mountains, immigrants from Kurdistan used to celebrate weddings in the finest Kurdish tradition with Dola (drum) and Zurna (flute), and dancing until the late hours of the night.
A unique custom continued to be observed at weddings held in the 1950s and 1960s, called the gift-giving ceremony. While everyone sat around the tables laden with good food, one table was set up in the center of the hall. On it were placed all the gifts brought by the guests – a gold jewel, a magnificent set of plates, a transistor radio or a special personal item, and, of course, envelopes containing banknotes.
The herald, who managed the ceremony, began with the groom's relatives' gifts. He took each gift, one by one, removed its cellophane, checked the manufacturer's name, held the gift in his hand, and announced its quality and the donor's name. Then he moved on to the bride's relatives' gifts with announcements, and then came the climax: the owners of the money envelopes who had kept them in their pockets and waited for the moment. One by one, they approached the herald and handed him the envelope. He opened it, counted the banknotes aloud, and announced: "So-and-so son of so-and-so gave one hundred liras... and so-and-so son of so-and-so one hundred and fifty liras." The higher the amount, the greater the exclamations of admiration, intensifying the pride of the valuable gift-givers.
Rabbi Meir Baal HaNes's Carpet
In the 1940s, emissaries from the Land of Israel arrived in Jewish communities in Kurdistan. They came on behalf of various institutions of the Yishuv (the Jewish community in Palestine before the establishment of the State of Israel) to bring them the tidings of Zionism and the emerging Hebrew state. The situation of Kurdistan Jews was not yet dire, and many of them earned a respectable living and were not quick to accept the offer to immigrate to Israel. But deep in their hearts, the hope nestled that they would soon be able to fulfill a millennia-old dream and return to the land of their forefathers. A dream that was part of their being, and found expression in their prayers for the rebuilt Jerusalem and the end of the exile.
One day, an emissary from the Land of Israel arrived in the town of Akra, telling them that he resided in the city of Tiberias, where the tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal HaNes is located. The community's Jews hosted him in their homes and honored him with warm hospitality reserved for very important people. They eagerly listened to stories he told them about the miracles performed by the tomb for those who prostrate themselves upon it, and about the entire city of Tiberias, flourishing on the lake shore. Amidst their excitement, the hosts took out a valuable carpet, gave it to the emissary, and did not let go until he promised them that upon his return to Israel, he would place the carpet in their name at the tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal HaNes, and the carpet would be a source of salvation and good livelihood for them.
Only a few years later, when they all immigrated to Israel and came to the tomb, they were astonished to discover that their valuable carpet was not there. They hurried to the home of that emissary and saw the carpet decorating his living room...
Kurdish Immigrants in Baghdad
In the early 1930s, in the city of Baghdad, the capital of Iraq, a small residential quarter developed, called "Khan al-Muhajirin" – a poor and crowded immigrant neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, near the cemetery, where the houses ended and the desert began.
In "al-Muhajirin," the lowest class resided along with foreign workers engaged in cleaning, housework, and arduous manual labor. Everyone crowded into square residential compounds with a large central courtyard, to which room doors faced.
Among the immigrants was a large number of Kurdistan Jews from all their diasporas – Persia, Iraq, and Turkey. Thousands of Kurdish Jews came from villages and towns to the big city to try their luck and find a good livelihood, a suitable match, or both. Many of them, young men and women, came unwillingly. Their families suffered from poverty and distress in their villages, and they were tasked with earning some money and sending it to their families who could not support their children. Their preferred work was with Jewish employers.
Upon their return from a grueling workday to their small rooms, tired and exhausted, the Kurdish immigrants would grumble and tell stories about their Baghdadi Jewish employers who paid them meager wages and often oppressed them. The immigrants, who needed every dinar they earned, did not dare to defy their employers – even when humiliated, when working many hours beyond the norm, and even when given a Sabbath rest and required to return from it and report to work immediately after the Sabbath.
On Sabbaths, they enjoyed a few hours of peace. They gathered for communal meals, broke into melancholic Kurdish songs about life in the mountains, and burst into circular dances to the sounds of Dola and Zurna – an arm resting on a shoulder in a large circle, and song bursting from their throats, making them forget their troubles.
A selected collection of additional chapters, and historical pieces from the life of Kurdistan and Iraq Jews, in the following links:
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The Introduction chapter to the book "From Babylon to Jerusalem" - The story of the Barazani family
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Akra and Barzan - The story of two Jewish communities in Kurdistan
All chapters are based on the book "From Babylon to Jerusalem," which tells the life story of Rachel and Akram Barazani and was written in Hebrew.
