Pessah in Egypt

Dayenou

I still remember how busy that period was.

First and above all there was the ritual of cleaning the kitchen. Eliminating all the hamess then passing a burning torch inside the cupboards making sure they were cleaned thoroughly.

One of these matzos was the thick one found today and the other was a large round sheet of very light almost transparent quality. I have not seen this type of matzos in Europe. Then keeping in mind that anything with leaven was forbidden very special Pessah biscuits were brought over as well.

The slavery of coconut jam preparation did not seem that at the time. But now I realise what a job it was. First you bought the coconuts whole. You had to rid them of that hard brown cover, empty the milk and then grate out the brown thin cover. After that you grated the white part; all that by hand.

Sugar was not bought as today in packs Whole cones of sugar had to be broken down with a hammer  till the right amount was weighed. It was measured in glasses.

Then only after bringing to the boil the milk and sugar you could add the grated coconut.

After cooking that mixture you had the satisfaction of the most delightful jam ever prepared.

The unleavened biscuits were eaten with that coconut jam.

As bread was absent those biscuits disappeared very quickly.

It brings back to my mind one of our fellow expatriates from Egypt.

This friend named Angel told my mother that she had an excellent recipe for Pessah. She said:

You take so much sugar , flour etc then you add a packet of baking powder.

What? Said my mom. Baking powder is leaven!

But I’ve been preparing it like this for years.

Our dear friend almost fainted when she found out that baking powder was no other than dry leaven!

However after three or four days of the matzos regime, everyone went around bloated and had to run to a hidden place to let out gas! My mother in particular was prone to that.

I adored that feast and especially the HAGADA. We had no care in the world for the goy and would joyfully cry out DAYENOU. The ten plagues of Egypt were called out by the men in the family. Let me remember them: And they are terrible!!!

Dam : Blood covering water in Egypt

Safardeya:  Frogs everywhere even in Pharaoh’s bed

Kenim :lice, scratch scratch scratch!!!
Arov

Dever: leprosy  (remember el deber fik,)

Shehin: illness of the skin, itchy and boils

Barad: hail

Hosheik: darkness covering Egypt non stop

Makar Behrot: Death of all the firstborn

That last plague was terrible, but who’s fault was it?

The part I liked most was when as a child they tied a pack of matzos around my back and I knocked on the door. Therein a voice from inside cried out:

Min ? (who is it?)

Ana: (It is I)

Gaie men en: (where do you come from?)

Men Misrayim (from Egypt)

Rayeh fen? (where are you going?)

Le Yerushalaim (to Jerusalem)

Then they opened the door and I went round getting a kiss from all the family while they were singing..

We usually ate huge quantities of food and Pessah was no exception. Especially the large quantity of hard boiled eggs in a plate. And the wonderful HAROSED.

We had two seders, now in Israel they only have one BECAUSE THEY ARE HOME;.

It was a magnificent feast.

But after that you had to change over to the hamess objects and put away the special Pessah plates forks and knives till next year.

One year when I was in Israel, the supermarkets covered up all the shelves with biscuits or bread. But anyway of pitas there was nothing left. They had been bought in large quantities and stored in the freezers!!!

I don’t think I can resist that vision of all my family united for the seder. Surely there was never anything better than having your family around you. Kan zaman!

DAYENOU (even if only for that, we thank the Lord)

Farewell to Jo Diday

Farewell to Jo Diday

Another friend has left us!
Jo Diday was the founder of the AJOE: association des juifs originaires d’Egypte.
With his wife Simone they kept us ‘connected’ as is said nowadays.
Other groups followed: the AJE London, the AJE Canada.
It is only when I became civilised i.e. bought a laptop that I discovered this rich network of Jews who had left Egypt. The world was no longer a desert! We corresponded, we met and kept one another informed of what was Egyptian Jewry. A rich culture of peaceful people who remembered their former country.
We all had a story to tell and could do so thanks to the website. I remember when I met Jo he told me the horrendous story of how his father died in transit.
However, we Jews from Egypt are strong and active people. We pushed back our sleeves and fought for our lives. The same story was repeated again and again.
The AJOE organised meetings, conferences, parties to everyone’s satisfaction. In Paris we met, enjoyed ourselves and tasted some Egyptian goodies. We cannot forget that we come from Egypt and the conafa, bassboussa or other delicacies were a real treat.
All good things come to an end, each year one of us goes away and our circle becomes smaller.
Now Jo has gone as well, what a great sadness that is.
We shall remember him.
I thank you Jo for the good work you did keeping us Jews from Egypt in a tight affectionate group.
We also thank your wife Simone who took over most of the job when illness caught up with you.

Suzy Vidal

Ayam el dahk

A very high class school for rich families is organising a party.

The headmistress calls the offices of the army near by.

éWe are  organising a party and it would be nice if you sent us a group of young men

to liven up the partyut please, please please,no Jews."

 

The day of the party arrives and a whole busload of black soldiers jump out.

"Where are the gals and drinks?"

The headmistress almost fainting says:

"There must be a mistake..."

One of the men answers

"Oh no mam, Captain Levy never makes a mistake."

 

 

AYAM EL KANAKA

Coming out of Egypt (1956) we were only allowed to take one suitcase and £10!

I chose to take my nonno’s personal kanaka.

His name was Brahim (Abraham) and he was married to Sarah, exactly as in the Bible.

Brahim was a short man. If energy were to be counted by centimeters, it would be a laughable matter because energy overflowed from him.

Like Abraham he had a stutter.He would stop in the middle of a sentence open his mouth and look for his word.

He woke up at 5 o’clock, washed in cold water, said his prayers with his tefelim around his forearms, then trotted off to the kitchen to prepare his ahwa in his own Kanaka before the goy came over for his day’s work.

This Kanaka was a small one-cup Turkish coffee maker in copper on the outside and pewter inside. The handle was in wood with a small hook to hang it next to the other kanakas on which you could see, 2, 3, 4 and 5. These numbers weren’t Cabalistic but indicated the quantity of cups one could prepare with that specific kanaka. For instance the mark 3 meant that three cups could be prepared. We are talking of Turkish cups here.

There was the mazboot coffee, sugar just right and soccar ziyada sweeter. Nonno was for the mazboot, whereas I was for soccar ziyada, thus surely prepring my path to diabetes!!!

Nonno took a generous spoon of ground ahwa which he himself had bought green and then taken to be roasted, put it in the kanaka containing water added sugar and then placed it on the spiritiera, alcohol burner. Once the mixture had risen three times, his coffee was ready.

He sat in front of a back window to, as he said: “ne shoof  wesh el sama,”to see the face of heaven. He probably planned out his day while sitting there.

After drinking his coffee, he would get ready to go to the Muski where he had his shop selling wholesale English fabrics and more especially poplin cotton.

I still have a blouse made out of that poplin.

The silly things one takes out when going into exile!!!

The kanaka represents a whole era for me.

The time when guests came for a chat, or when they came for Abel after a departure to a better place.The reading of good fortune. No one laughed at that.

Brahim had an Egyptian nationality, then for the only reason that he was Jewish, it was taken away from him and he became stateless. We used to call this “apatride.”

His shop was confiscated and put in the hands of a sequester.That was the name given to the man who lorded it when the shops were seized.

We were told secretely that the police was coming to “talk” to nonno. We did not know when but we were so scared that my parents urged Nonno to take a ticket for Milan where our cousin lived. Imagine someone who had never left his country taking a plane and speaking only Arabic?

He left everythng, his money, his shop, his home.

When he reached Milan Airport no one understood what he was saying.

 He cried like a little boy, till finally the authorities brought over a translator. Then our cousin in Milan was contacted and came over to get him.

“I have never seen greater morons than you!” She told us later. “leaving an old man all by himself!!!”

The Kanaka is hung in front of my place when I have breakfast in my kitchen and reminds me of that dearly loved nonno.

I no longer cry now, I haven’t got any tears left in my body!

I think of Brahim serenely knowing that he is resting in Israel, that was his dearest desire.

Suzy Vidal: aka Sultana Latifa, a Jewish refugee from Egypt

Sultana latifa (suzy vidal)

A Jewish refugee from Egypt

Return to Cairo

I saw the signs of your islamisation without concession

But I could not cry

I saw your Pyramids, your noseless sphynx staring down at me

But I would not cry

I saw your young veiled and flirtatious women

But I  held back my cry

I saw Groppi , à l’Americaine, and Metro cinema

But still I did not cry

I saw you noisy incredible traffic and survived

But I was unable to cry

I saw my street, my 5t floor shuttered balcony

But still I refused  cry

I saw our bawab told him I had lived there

But did not want to cry

I saw my Synagogue empty of us but well guarded

And then I could only cry

Sultana latifa

Hanucca

TO YOU MY FRIENDS FROM EGYPT  MAY THE LIGHT OF HANUCCA SHINE ON YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES. HOW MANY HANUCCAS HAVE WE SPENT AWAY FROM THE COUNTRY OF OUR BIRTH? MORE THAN I CARE TO REMEMBER! ANYWAY WE ALL STILL HERE. SO HAPPY HANUCCA TILL NEXT YEAR.

Suzy Vidal

In Ishmael's house (Sir Martin Gilbert)

 IN  ISHMAEL'S HOUSE
A HISTORY OF JEWS IN MUSLIM LANDS

By Sir Martin Gilbert

Yale University Press, New Haven and London

(Click here to see the link)

STRONLGY RECOMMENDED TO US JEWS OF ARAB COUNTRIES:

VERY SERIOUSLY  RESEARCHED AND WELL DOCUMENTED

THE WORK OF A TRUE HISTORIAN
ALSO AUTHOR OF ABOUT 80 OTHER BOOKS
AND OFFICIAL BIOGRAPHER OF WINSTON CHURCHILL;


EVERY SENTENCE HAS BEEN WEIGHED AND HAS ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD;
ASTONISHING AS WELL AS TEACHING US ABOUT OUR OWN PAST IN THAT LAND OF THE PYRAMIDS AMONGST OTHER ARAB LANDS.