Bnei Anousim: Personal Stories

[caption id="attachment_5343" align="alignleft" width="100" caption="Miriam Pena"][/caption] Miriam Pena was raised in a devout Catholic home in Cartagena, Colombia, the vivacious 30-year-old had a different, simpler dream – to visit the Middle East and see the desert. Israel seemed like as good a starting point as any. But as her plans began taking shape back in Colombia, Miriam realized she wanted to join the Jewish people. “At first, I didn’t believe it myself,” Miriam says. “It’s something I just felt in my heart, like I’d been waiting for this for so many years.” Getting to this point, however, has not been easy. When she was five years old, her mother abandoned Miriam and her sister, leaving the two at the door to the school they were attending. The headmistress took them in and raised them as her own children. Although Miriam says she always believed in G-d, she bristled at attending church, and quarreled with her adopted mother over the subject frequently. When she grew older, she moved to the Colombian capital of Bogota where she worked as a waitress and singer (back in her hometown, she had appeared in the “Miss Popular Cartegena” festival and even cut a CD).

[caption id="attachment_4072" align="alignright" width="150" caption="The Arditi's study at Shavei's Machon Miriam Institute in Jerusalem"][/caption] When Gila Arditi’s grandfather purchased a burial vault for his family in Colombia, he made sure that the structure faced towards Jerusalem. His daughter is now living a dream her grandfather could only have imagined, moving with her husband Ariel and their two children to Israel. Gila and Ariel now study at Shavei Israel's Machon Miriam Conversion and Return Institute in Jerusalem. The path has not been a quick or easy one for the Arditi's. The couple, who are now in their late 60s, met when they were just teenagers. Their romance had a “West Side Story” twist: Gila’s family were artisans, while Ariel had a strong agricultural background. Unlike Tony and Maria, though, this young couple from Bogota had a shared Jewish tradition. As Bnei Anousim – people whose Jewish ancestors were compelled to convert to Catholicism more than five centuries ago - both families kept many of the Jewish holidays, fasted on Yom Kippur and lit candles for Shabbat. Other customs Gila and Ariel kept growing up included salting their meat (a part of the process for making meat kosher), keeping separate sets of dishes for dairy and meat, washing hands before eating, and circumcising their infant boys. The families also sat “shiva” in a low chair when someone died, and they mourned for a year - the traditional Jewish practice. Ariel’s large family – he has 9 siblings - went so far as move to a new village where the market takes place on a Sunday so they could refrain from working on the sabbath. There were also some interesting interpretations: they divided the land into seven parts and each year let one rest (reminiscent of the Jewish law of shmita). During the Passover holiday, they ate seven different kinds of soups for each of the intermediary days. And then there was the shofar. “Since we were young,” Ariel says,” we knew how to blow the shofar, but it wasn’t a religious thing. During the thousand day war (a civil war that rocked in Colombia from 1899-1902), we needed to communicate between places, to tell each other if there was danger. The Jews had their own special language through the shofar.” Despite all these clues, the Arditi’s - like many Bnei Anousim - didn’t make the connection between their family traditions and Judaism until much later – when Gila’s daughter began exploring her own roots. “We always knew we were different,” Gila says. “The people in our village told us so, but for us it was totally natural.”

  “I could have said I’m a Christian,” says Miriam Sangiorgio of Catania , Italy. “I could have had a very easy life.” Instead, the 42-year-old vivacious Italian chose to explore a tenuous Jewish connection that her father only revealed to her in his dying days. Today,...

Miquel Segura Bnei AnousimI cannot say how old I was when I noticed that I was different from all the other children about me. In my home, as in all the Xueta homes, it was forbidden to speak about it, hushed not to mention it. Anyway, I recall a quaver of mystery, something shameful and hidden that popped up here and there during conversations:  Silences, movements, cut-off words, a tension unknown in our otherwise apparently happy lives. My father, a merchant, curious and optimistic, dragged along his entire life some indefinite fear. Of course, I could not discern it until in his old age he uncovered weaknesses that I hadn’t known of before. Today I am sure that his identity as a Xueta and his mother’s absence (she died when he was a child), were the two singular causes that cast a pall upon his life.
Nissan Ben Avraham is the name of a Rabbi who was born in Palma, where he was baptized as is the custom in every good “Apostolic and Roman Catholic” home, and given the name Nicolas Aguilo. He came on Aliya 26 years ago because “if after 600 years I could not overcome the stigma of my being a Jew, why shouldn’t I be a Jew?” Yesterday, after an absence of 12 years , Nissan Ben Avraham came face to face with his city of birth to relate his personal story:  From Palma to Israel, at a one-day seminar organized by Shavei Israel on the components of the Chueta’s identity and their historical link with the Jewish people. “I was about ten years old when the children at school cursed me for being a Xueta. I then discovered that to be a Xueta was something awful even though I did not succeed in understanding why. I did not know if the meaning of that word was being a Jew or not. I did not understand the meaning of the Anous nor did I absorb the reaction of others to this phenomenon,” he explained.