April 22, 2009
Yet another Pesach has come and gone and the 2009 Bulawayo communal Seder was one more remarkable success story in the history of our shrinking but tenacious community.
Planning a communal Seder is always a daunting task no matter where you are in the world, but here in Zimbabwe it is nothing short of a tactical nightmare that requires a strategic game plan with months of advance action.
You can’t just pop down to the nearest hyper for their astonishing range of Pesadech goods, anything from toothpaste to dog food, or the kosher deli for their ready made chicken soup and kneidlach.
Indeed our supermarkets are only just tenuously managing to restock shelves, after years of government intervention into the controlling of prices, on the back of extortionate duty structures and the well publicised death of food supplies in this tragic landscape. It wasn’t long ago that Hylton Solomon, President of our community and owner of one of the oldest supermarkets in town, was arrested for charging too much on pasta!
The march towards the Seder started months ago when Rabbi Alima and his wife Efrat were determined that despite all odds they would orchestrate their swan song, their last Seder in Zimbabwe for sadly, soon after Pesach, they returned to Eretz Yisrael with a fourth child on the way, for we can no longer afford them.
Bulawayo has attracted a dynamic and diverse stream of Rabbis since the community was officially initiated way back in 1894, each one of them leaving an indelible mark on the Jewish stamp of the country’s history. When initially interviewing Rabbi Alima, President Hylton Solomon expressed the needs of the community in a nutshell, “Any Rabbi coming to join us should love his Bobba and Zeida and unfortunately be well versed in conducting a funeral”.
Indeed, our community is aged with the vast majority of her 93 souls, in the autumn of their years. I cannot remember the last time we had a wedding here, but my 15 year old son has been the pall bearer at many a funeral. But we have never thrown down our siddurim and given up, even when our beloved shul burnt down in 2003. The opposite is evidenced by our determination to hold on to the basics of Jewish life, minyanim at least five days a week and our Rabbi has brought in many from the community who had not been in a Shul for decades. The Alimas live by Abraham’s tenet of an open door and there was never a Shabbat that did not find a full table at their home, even when the power was down and there was no water in the taps.
So nu, they made a plan just like all of us do here.
Pesach was just another time that we made a plan, the Alima’s and their support group put it all together. The truck loads of kosher goodies, greatly subsidised by the Jewish Agency, were brought in by a band of individuals known as runners - they run back and forth to South Africa to provide all, who can afford it, the luxuries most in the world take for granted. Rabbi Moshe Silberhaft, the regional Rabbi and his ex Bulawayo assistant, Carla Sher, are our supreme connection to the great kosher world of stuff. This wandering regional Rabbi has been an angel sent to us here in Bulawayo. His humour and “expansive” warmth enable us to feel we are a living part of the greater Jewish world.
Erev Pesach arrived and I was shocked at the number we were to set the table for. One hundred Jews would be celebrating the 115th official Seder in a country that knows only too well the evil wrought by a modern day Pharaoh. With an ingathering of visitors, many coming home for Yom Tov from South Africa, Australia and Israel as well as Ofer Dahan and his wife from the Sochnut, shlichim from Netzer and Bnei Akiva and some of their children, ours was going to be a truly special simcha.
In the kitchen preparing the seder feast was the famous Florence Maphosa. This extraordinary toothless Ndebele woman is one of the community’s most exceptional pillars. When Florence’s mentor and teacher, Sheila Swiel went on aliyah in the 80’s the culinary genius, Florence, decided that rather than working in one household she would hire herself out by the day. At first she only worked for Jews, but with the decline in our numbers she has expanded her clientele.
Florence almost singlehandedly prepared the entire seder from the chicken soup and kneidlach to the charoseth. There is no one in the world who can match her Jewish repertoire of dishes; she does a mean gefilte fish, her chopped herring is divine, her cheesecake is to die for and her tsimmes would make anyone’s Bobbah come begging for the recipe.
At 63 Florence is my great hero. She has taught me how to laugh in the face of adversity, the reward of hard work and to understand the dignity of the people we work, play, live and are helped by every day. The world only sees a one dimensional representation of Zimbabwe’s people, the tyrannical force towering over the cowering masses. But it is far more complicated than that, and I know the comparison is controversial, but how many of our own fought back in the last century when faced with the demon who tried to wipe us off the face of the earth? Will you be the one to lead them?
The Pesach service saw a shul bathed in candle light, for our power is switched off almost every day, and by now we are used to it and have learnt that electricity is not the only way to find light. In fact, I love the spirituality it brings to our services. There is no Jew to look after our shul, but Jack, the “Shammas”, who hails from the Binga region of Zimbabwe where the people are tall and strong, makes sure that the candles to light our way through the service are lit before the chag or Shabbat begins.
We moved from the shul to the hall to start the ancient repetition of the Hagaddah. Miraculously the power came back and there was light! The singing was certainly not the standard of the famous Gardens Synagogue Choir, and the tunes were as varied as the communities represented; the hall was beautiful, the place was filled with an extraordinary warmth and energy that took me back to the days of my childhood when the shul was so full that the kids sat squashed onto the steps, giggling through the service. The numbers are gone but the energy remains.
There is a tinge of irony and a certain poignancy at celebrating Pesach in Zimbabwe, we repeat the message every year and teach our children to question so that we can all understand a little more about slavery, oppression and violence; the overriding system of justice that was meted out for evil; the road to freedom took courage and commitment and was filled with obstacles, yet through true leadership freedom was found and our people today cherish that freedom and the homeland that is ours, even though we may not physically be there.
Rabbi Alima and his family have gone home, his wife said to me shortly before she left, “This community gave us far more that we ever gave the community” and I believe that is because here in Bulawayo, we all cherish community and understand the strength it gives us. It is getting harder to find and afford a new Rabbi, but we remain determined and as Hylton Solomon said, “We cannot turn our backs on over a century of Jewish history in this town.”
Yes, the past decade has been particularly trying but there is an old Jewish proverb that says, “He that can't endure the bad, will not live to see the good.” As Jews we understand suffering but we also understand that freedom is within grasp.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
29th anniversary of Zimbabwe’s independence
WE have just had the 29th anniversary of Zimbabwe’s independence – nothing to celebrate.
The latest development is the non payment of utility accounts. The municipality sends out bills for rates and refuse collection, making unrealistic demands and the rate payers pay only a fracture of the amount, because the services are non-existent. In our area the refuse has not been collected for the last three months. Street lighting has not worked for a similar period and the roads are full of potholes.
What is sheer neglect is to see burst water mains pipes unattended – no repairs and all this water literally going down the drain. It is estimated that 20% of Harare’s water supply is wasted in this manner. There is a shortage of pumping capacity. The equipment at the Morton Jeffray water is old and needs replacement after 29 years of independence. In spite of all this the municipality expects to be paid for services they do not provide. Many rate payers are only paying a token fee of US$10. The municipality can’t cut off services because there aren’t any and they cannot prosecute because they do not have a case. They require US$4,5 million to pay wages but receive only US$1,5 million. They simply cannot get started to repair their infrastructure because they have no money – so it is a vicious circle.
There have been appeals for billions of dollar from the wicked West – and also to remove “illegal” sanctions. I wonder what law is being broken to be declared “illegal”? As long as Mugabe remains in power and continues to flout the rule of law no one will come to our aid.
The glitter of the new unity government is beginning to wear off. What is annoying the MDC is that Mugabe makes unilateral appointments and decisions. It is a power sharing government and they should be consulted. As always Mugabe is not accountable to anyone and justifies everything with his rhetoric.
On the positive side the shelves in the supermarkets are now filled with allsorts of goodies most of it is imported. Now that local industry may keep all their foreign currency earnings through exports the economy is improving slightly.
Salaries are now paid in US dollars. Civil servants are complaining because they are being paid a paltry $100 per month. It is estimated that an average family needs about $450 pm to survive. The government does not receive enough money from taxes and has great difficulty in meeting payments. Of course it is not their fault – it is the “illegal” sanctions imposed by the wicked West. Mugabe has stated that Zimbabwe should put pressure on the West - exactly how is he going to do that? I am sure that the United States and European Union are quaking in their shoes!!!
Best regards
Benny and Rose Leon
The latest development is the non payment of utility accounts. The municipality sends out bills for rates and refuse collection, making unrealistic demands and the rate payers pay only a fracture of the amount, because the services are non-existent. In our area the refuse has not been collected for the last three months. Street lighting has not worked for a similar period and the roads are full of potholes.
What is sheer neglect is to see burst water mains pipes unattended – no repairs and all this water literally going down the drain. It is estimated that 20% of Harare’s water supply is wasted in this manner. There is a shortage of pumping capacity. The equipment at the Morton Jeffray water is old and needs replacement after 29 years of independence. In spite of all this the municipality expects to be paid for services they do not provide. Many rate payers are only paying a token fee of US$10. The municipality can’t cut off services because there aren’t any and they cannot prosecute because they do not have a case. They require US$4,5 million to pay wages but receive only US$1,5 million. They simply cannot get started to repair their infrastructure because they have no money – so it is a vicious circle.
There have been appeals for billions of dollar from the wicked West – and also to remove “illegal” sanctions. I wonder what law is being broken to be declared “illegal”? As long as Mugabe remains in power and continues to flout the rule of law no one will come to our aid.
The glitter of the new unity government is beginning to wear off. What is annoying the MDC is that Mugabe makes unilateral appointments and decisions. It is a power sharing government and they should be consulted. As always Mugabe is not accountable to anyone and justifies everything with his rhetoric.
On the positive side the shelves in the supermarkets are now filled with allsorts of goodies most of it is imported. Now that local industry may keep all their foreign currency earnings through exports the economy is improving slightly.
Salaries are now paid in US dollars. Civil servants are complaining because they are being paid a paltry $100 per month. It is estimated that an average family needs about $450 pm to survive. The government does not receive enough money from taxes and has great difficulty in meeting payments. Of course it is not their fault – it is the “illegal” sanctions imposed by the wicked West. Mugabe has stated that Zimbabwe should put pressure on the West - exactly how is he going to do that? I am sure that the United States and European Union are quaking in their shoes!!!
Best regards
Benny and Rose Leon
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Gabi Elkaim's diary from Bulawayo
By Gabi Elkaim
April 12, 2009
Bulawayo - For the two months I've been back, we've mostly been very lucky: municipal water has been plentiful and we haven't had any power cuts. We've also had a great deal of rain, though this year, the quantity of rain was not ideal for the crops. Opah says that because we've had so much rain, it will be a long cold winter. And indeed, it's mid-April and we've already started to load up on firewood, a month earlier than usual. The cold has begun to creep up on us, and with it, suddenly power cuts have become more prevalent. Some last an hour or two, some the whole day... in the Western suburbs, perhaps even longer. Rumour has it, something is being fixed at the power hub in Kariba... no one asks too many questions. We're all veterans when it comes to power cuts... and so the generator goes on from time to time, or the candles are lit, or we simply suck it up, barely acknowledging the absence of the god of electricity, as if we'll trick him into returning, though really only tricking ourselves.
On Wednesday morning, Opah and I woke up early and went into town in search of firewood. The place that always used to sell it when I was growing up sells it no longer. But a man parked outside invited us to follow him to the industrial sites, to a place where he buys it in bulk in order to supply a clientèle that uses indoor wood-burning stoves. Upon arrival at this place, another man came running toward us warning that our front tyre was about to fall off. And so we discovered that the night prior, our property had been broken into, and an attempt had been made to steal a tyre off the car. Opah had heard the dogs going nuts at about 3am and had turned on all the lights, which it seems, was enough to scare off the intruders. Since then, we've decided to let the dogs roam the front yard instead of being confined to the back. ...So while driving to town, with only 2 bolts out of 6 intact, 3 of the wheel studs broke under the weight of the car. The tyre shook as if deciding whether to cling to the axle or to retreat to the road. Luckily it chose the axle, and it was caught before anything sinister was able to happen.
Wednesday night was the start of Passover, and an astonishing one hundred people were present at the communal seder that evening. Florence, a woman whose forte is Jewish cooking, and who has been freelancing around the Jewish community for years, prepared the entire meal over a 3-day period. That evening one hundred people assembled to read the story of Exodus, and yes, another day, another power cut... another affirmation of the resilience of Zimbabweans: not only was the first half of the story recounted by candlelight, but one hundred servings of chicken soup and mazta balls were heated up over an open fire!
By some stroke of luck, we managed to have the car fixed on Thursday. It seems that to get things done here usually requires infinitely more patience than anywhere else in the world. And yes, I am beginning to see the miracles of our existence here on a daily basis. Good Friday arrived, and with our car intact and loaded with Easter eggs, we headed out to Matopos to visit an orphanage that is run by a good friend of mine. There is an electric moment that occurs whenever I drive to Matopos. It happens around the time we pass the dam on our right, and catch the first glimpse of the magnificence of the balancing rocks. My body tingles in awe. J claims that beneath and within these balancing granite boulders, millions of crystals can be found, and they contribute to this tremendous energy that is felt there. Initially W had been reluctant to join us, claiming that he did not have the koach to spend the day depressed with sick orphaned children, but after some arm twisting, he gave in. The orphanage, 70 or so kilometres out of town, is such a happy place... a far cry from depressing: 36 children live there and are well loved and taken care of. One-fifth of them are HIV positive, and all of these are on ARV's where they are monitored and compliance is ensured. 5 of the children took us on a leisurely 4km hike up the kopjie. With views that can only remind us pf how tiny we are in such a massive universe, and yet how interconnected our existence is, the Matopos humbles, consumes, and rejuvenates us, and then spits us back out into Bulawayo, feeling as though we've been on a 3-day vacation.
The weekend flies by, and I sit in the garden early this morning, hearing
the sound of my fingers hitting the keyboard, the gentleness of a cool
breeze, the calls of the birds, the odd dog barking in the distance. All
these sounds become like white noise, and I become aware of the loudest noise that exists here, the sound of quiet. Sunday: another day, another power cut. And with that, my laptop is about to run out of batteries.
April 12, 2009
Bulawayo - For the two months I've been back, we've mostly been very lucky: municipal water has been plentiful and we haven't had any power cuts. We've also had a great deal of rain, though this year, the quantity of rain was not ideal for the crops. Opah says that because we've had so much rain, it will be a long cold winter. And indeed, it's mid-April and we've already started to load up on firewood, a month earlier than usual. The cold has begun to creep up on us, and with it, suddenly power cuts have become more prevalent. Some last an hour or two, some the whole day... in the Western suburbs, perhaps even longer. Rumour has it, something is being fixed at the power hub in Kariba... no one asks too many questions. We're all veterans when it comes to power cuts... and so the generator goes on from time to time, or the candles are lit, or we simply suck it up, barely acknowledging the absence of the god of electricity, as if we'll trick him into returning, though really only tricking ourselves.
On Wednesday morning, Opah and I woke up early and went into town in search of firewood. The place that always used to sell it when I was growing up sells it no longer. But a man parked outside invited us to follow him to the industrial sites, to a place where he buys it in bulk in order to supply a clientèle that uses indoor wood-burning stoves. Upon arrival at this place, another man came running toward us warning that our front tyre was about to fall off. And so we discovered that the night prior, our property had been broken into, and an attempt had been made to steal a tyre off the car. Opah had heard the dogs going nuts at about 3am and had turned on all the lights, which it seems, was enough to scare off the intruders. Since then, we've decided to let the dogs roam the front yard instead of being confined to the back. ...So while driving to town, with only 2 bolts out of 6 intact, 3 of the wheel studs broke under the weight of the car. The tyre shook as if deciding whether to cling to the axle or to retreat to the road. Luckily it chose the axle, and it was caught before anything sinister was able to happen.
Wednesday night was the start of Passover, and an astonishing one hundred people were present at the communal seder that evening. Florence, a woman whose forte is Jewish cooking, and who has been freelancing around the Jewish community for years, prepared the entire meal over a 3-day period. That evening one hundred people assembled to read the story of Exodus, and yes, another day, another power cut... another affirmation of the resilience of Zimbabweans: not only was the first half of the story recounted by candlelight, but one hundred servings of chicken soup and mazta balls were heated up over an open fire!
By some stroke of luck, we managed to have the car fixed on Thursday. It seems that to get things done here usually requires infinitely more patience than anywhere else in the world. And yes, I am beginning to see the miracles of our existence here on a daily basis. Good Friday arrived, and with our car intact and loaded with Easter eggs, we headed out to Matopos to visit an orphanage that is run by a good friend of mine. There is an electric moment that occurs whenever I drive to Matopos. It happens around the time we pass the dam on our right, and catch the first glimpse of the magnificence of the balancing rocks. My body tingles in awe. J claims that beneath and within these balancing granite boulders, millions of crystals can be found, and they contribute to this tremendous energy that is felt there. Initially W had been reluctant to join us, claiming that he did not have the koach to spend the day depressed with sick orphaned children, but after some arm twisting, he gave in. The orphanage, 70 or so kilometres out of town, is such a happy place... a far cry from depressing: 36 children live there and are well loved and taken care of. One-fifth of them are HIV positive, and all of these are on ARV's where they are monitored and compliance is ensured. 5 of the children took us on a leisurely 4km hike up the kopjie. With views that can only remind us pf how tiny we are in such a massive universe, and yet how interconnected our existence is, the Matopos humbles, consumes, and rejuvenates us, and then spits us back out into Bulawayo, feeling as though we've been on a 3-day vacation.
The weekend flies by, and I sit in the garden early this morning, hearing
the sound of my fingers hitting the keyboard, the gentleness of a cool
breeze, the calls of the birds, the odd dog barking in the distance. All
these sounds become like white noise, and I become aware of the loudest noise that exists here, the sound of quiet. Sunday: another day, another power cut. And with that, my laptop is about to run out of batteries.
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