Rosh Hashanah in Pune
Somehow I always end up being far from home on the Jewish Holidays. A couple of years ago I spent two Passovers in a row in Syria. The first time I asked my mom to make me a whole Passover dinner a week early because I was so sad about missing it. Needless to say I did not even attempt to celebrate the holidays while I was in there, in spite of the fact that there is apparently a Jewish community in city near the town where we were working.
The nice thing about working in India rather than Syria is that no one will be upset by the fact that you are a Jew. The last time I was here I saw that there was an indication for a synagogue on the map I had, and I knew there was a Jewish population in India, so I decided I would try to find the synagogue and celebrate the holidays here. I started asking around as soon as I got on the plane to Pune and got a couple of indications, so on Friday during the day I went to search for the synagogue indicated on the map and found what looks like a large red church (complete with bell tower) in the middle of one of the most commercial areas of town. As you might guess from my previous descriptions of life in India, there was a guard at the gate. When I first asked if there were services he sort of wobbled his head in that way that means something to Indians, but which I still don’t understand. When he saw that I didn’t seem to be leaving, he asked if I was a Jew, at which point he led me to the building and introduced me to a man who was busy stringing up Christmas lights at the entrance. He gave me the schedule of services and told me to come back in the evening. He also told me a little bit about the synagogue, which had been founded by and Iraqi Jew who had come to Pune in the 19th century and become one of its most distinguished citizens. However, the sommunity is now so small that they have to import a rabbi from Mumbai from the holidays.
Most Indian Jews actually belong to a group known as the Bene Israel. They came to India and settled in Marhasthra sometime in the second century BC, probably while escaping the turmoils of the time in the Middle East. According to the tradition the first group consisted of only a few families (maybe 7?), which somehow grew and maintained their community and traditions. However, in coming to India they became isolated from the rest of the Jews and were not rediscovered until the 18th and 19th centuries when Jewish traders saw them following the same traditions that they followed back home. It was these traders who helped to reintegrate the Bene Israel into the mainstream Jewish community. . Apparently, since the Bene Israel were recognized as “true Jews” by the Rabbinic councils, many have left and moved to Israel (this was actually a full page story in Sunday’s Hindustani Times). One interesting random fact is that in the early 20th century, the Jews of India were the only community which still played an ancient boardgame that was discovered in the Royal Tombs of Ur, and it was thanks to them that archaeologists were able to reconstruct how the game was played.
There were not many people at the services Friday night, but the service itself was exactly what you would expect, though they were conducted entirely in Hebrew, and the women were wearing saris and kurtas. Men and women sat on opposite sides of the shul, but the upstairs was not used. The sound was very similar to other Sephardic and Middle Eastern services I have been to, not at all like the typical American Ashkenazi service. Many of the people in the synagogue were lighter skinned than your average Indian in this area, which I guess must be a reflection of their Iraqi heritage. Afterwards there was a light snack and I had a chance to talk to some of the other people there.
I mentioned to one of the women how nice it was that the service was in Hebrew, and she responded, yes, but she didn’t know half of what was going on, which sort of got me to thinking about language in religion. I always thought that the Vatican II resolutions about having services in local languages was great, yet I always feel let down if I go to a Jewish service that is conducted mostly in English… maybe that is the intellectual in me. But I do like the fact that most of the prayed books we have in the US have the text of the prayers in English, so that you can follow along in your native language. The few books they had at the synagogue here were entirely in Hebrew, which I am sure most of the people cannot speak. And there was no part of the service where the rabbi explained what was going on, so I can see how that would feel somewhat alienating.
The other thing I discovered while talking to people after the service is that there is also a second shul in Pune, as well as a Chabad house (which I had seen). So Saturday morning I decided that I would try to go to the other synagogue, but after wandering fruitlessly around the neighborhood where it was supposed to be for about half an hour with a very frustrated rickshaw driver, I ended up back at the first shul, where I found the French woman I had spoken to the day before who had had very much the same experience earlier in the morning. Addresses are still a bit of a foreign concept in India. People will tell you the neighborhood or street something where is located, and maybe some nearby landmark, and then they will tell you to ask… which usually works. It did not work in this case, so we all ended up back where we started, but determined to get better directions next time.
Sunday morning, armed with better directions, I headed out again to find the second shul. This time I also got out of the rickshaw and walked around on my own, which somehow got me better directions (perhaps because I was also closer to the place I needed to be, though I did recognize some of the streets from my earlier trip). I finally got there just as they had stopped for a break. Everyone was milling around in front of the synagogue (also a red, churchlike building) eating samosas and gulab jamun. The samosas were made specifically for the holiday and had pomegranate seeds (a traditional Rosh Hashanah food). And the gulab jamun provided the requisite sweet element.
This congregation was the original Bene Israel congregation of Pune, and in fact they were generally darker in complexion than the ones at the first shul. Both synagogues had the beema in the middle and the ark at the end. I am not familiar enough with Pune yet to know which side of the shul the ark was on, but I assume it must be on the west side- towards Jerusalem. Te service was similar to the one in the other synagogue, but the sound slightly less familiar. Men and women were separated here too, although because the building is smaller the women were upstairs. The people were extremely friendly and welcoming, and because it was not Shabbat I managed to take some pictures, though I felt a bit tourist doing so.
inside the shul
upstairs with the women
the beema
The most amazing thing is how similar it feels to a synagogue elsewhere in the world. The elements of the service were the same, all the men had their tallit, everyone (men and women) covered their heads, everyone was enthralled by the blowing of the shofar, and there were little kids running around throughout the service.
blowing the shofar!
The nice thing about working in India rather than Syria is that no one will be upset by the fact that you are a Jew. The last time I was here I saw that there was an indication for a synagogue on the map I had, and I knew there was a Jewish population in India, so I decided I would try to find the synagogue and celebrate the holidays here. I started asking around as soon as I got on the plane to Pune and got a couple of indications, so on Friday during the day I went to search for the synagogue indicated on the map and found what looks like a large red church (complete with bell tower) in the middle of one of the most commercial areas of town. As you might guess from my previous descriptions of life in India, there was a guard at the gate. When I first asked if there were services he sort of wobbled his head in that way that means something to Indians, but which I still don’t understand. When he saw that I didn’t seem to be leaving, he asked if I was a Jew, at which point he led me to the building and introduced me to a man who was busy stringing up Christmas lights at the entrance. He gave me the schedule of services and told me to come back in the evening. He also told me a little bit about the synagogue, which had been founded by and Iraqi Jew who had come to Pune in the 19th century and become one of its most distinguished citizens. However, the sommunity is now so small that they have to import a rabbi from Mumbai from the holidays.
Most Indian Jews actually belong to a group known as the Bene Israel. They came to India and settled in Marhasthra sometime in the second century BC, probably while escaping the turmoils of the time in the Middle East. According to the tradition the first group consisted of only a few families (maybe 7?), which somehow grew and maintained their community and traditions. However, in coming to India they became isolated from the rest of the Jews and were not rediscovered until the 18th and 19th centuries when Jewish traders saw them following the same traditions that they followed back home. It was these traders who helped to reintegrate the Bene Israel into the mainstream Jewish community. . Apparently, since the Bene Israel were recognized as “true Jews” by the Rabbinic councils, many have left and moved to Israel (this was actually a full page story in Sunday’s Hindustani Times). One interesting random fact is that in the early 20th century, the Jews of India were the only community which still played an ancient boardgame that was discovered in the Royal Tombs of Ur, and it was thanks to them that archaeologists were able to reconstruct how the game was played.
There were not many people at the services Friday night, but the service itself was exactly what you would expect, though they were conducted entirely in Hebrew, and the women were wearing saris and kurtas. Men and women sat on opposite sides of the shul, but the upstairs was not used. The sound was very similar to other Sephardic and Middle Eastern services I have been to, not at all like the typical American Ashkenazi service. Many of the people in the synagogue were lighter skinned than your average Indian in this area, which I guess must be a reflection of their Iraqi heritage. Afterwards there was a light snack and I had a chance to talk to some of the other people there.
I mentioned to one of the women how nice it was that the service was in Hebrew, and she responded, yes, but she didn’t know half of what was going on, which sort of got me to thinking about language in religion. I always thought that the Vatican II resolutions about having services in local languages was great, yet I always feel let down if I go to a Jewish service that is conducted mostly in English… maybe that is the intellectual in me. But I do like the fact that most of the prayed books we have in the US have the text of the prayers in English, so that you can follow along in your native language. The few books they had at the synagogue here were entirely in Hebrew, which I am sure most of the people cannot speak. And there was no part of the service where the rabbi explained what was going on, so I can see how that would feel somewhat alienating.
The other thing I discovered while talking to people after the service is that there is also a second shul in Pune, as well as a Chabad house (which I had seen). So Saturday morning I decided that I would try to go to the other synagogue, but after wandering fruitlessly around the neighborhood where it was supposed to be for about half an hour with a very frustrated rickshaw driver, I ended up back at the first shul, where I found the French woman I had spoken to the day before who had had very much the same experience earlier in the morning. Addresses are still a bit of a foreign concept in India. People will tell you the neighborhood or street something where is located, and maybe some nearby landmark, and then they will tell you to ask… which usually works. It did not work in this case, so we all ended up back where we started, but determined to get better directions next time.
Sunday morning, armed with better directions, I headed out again to find the second shul. This time I also got out of the rickshaw and walked around on my own, which somehow got me better directions (perhaps because I was also closer to the place I needed to be, though I did recognize some of the streets from my earlier trip). I finally got there just as they had stopped for a break. Everyone was milling around in front of the synagogue (also a red, churchlike building) eating samosas and gulab jamun. The samosas were made specifically for the holiday and had pomegranate seeds (a traditional Rosh Hashanah food). And the gulab jamun provided the requisite sweet element.
This congregation was the original Bene Israel congregation of Pune, and in fact they were generally darker in complexion than the ones at the first shul. Both synagogues had the beema in the middle and the ark at the end. I am not familiar enough with Pune yet to know which side of the shul the ark was on, but I assume it must be on the west side- towards Jerusalem. Te service was similar to the one in the other synagogue, but the sound slightly less familiar. Men and women were separated here too, although because the building is smaller the women were upstairs. The people were extremely friendly and welcoming, and because it was not Shabbat I managed to take some pictures, though I felt a bit tourist doing so.
inside the shul
upstairs with the women
the beema
The most amazing thing is how similar it feels to a synagogue elsewhere in the world. The elements of the service were the same, all the men had their tallit, everyone (men and women) covered their heads, everyone was enthralled by the blowing of the shofar, and there were little kids running around throughout the service.
blowing the shofar!