“…Unto the Ancient Mothers”
by Massimo Mandolini, PhD
“.. Who gives sight to the blind.” עורים פו קח These words from the Shakharit morning prayer have a special poignancy for me, because I was granted the experience of both wonders: eyesight and insight. Coincidentally, at some point, the same person was instrumental in helping me attain both of these, which have become forms of healing. When I was living in New York City during the 1990’s, my holistic doctor became familiar over the years with my personal and family history. One day, a mild September afternoon in Brooklyn, he invited me to look deeper into my maternal genealogy, because in all likelihood my family was Jewish. His words were not surprising and quietly settled in my mind. He remarked, in particular, that besides the name Mandolini, some traits of my mother’s spirituality had made an impression on him: for instance, the emphasis on serving the Almighty in joy, which is one of the fundamental aspects of the Hassidic way of life. Such a comment, made by a Chabad Lubavitcher, had a special, and auspicious, resonance in me. Together with the genealogical investigation (see below), I started reflecting on my past from a different angle, and resetting my memories in a new perspective. The Jewish belief that the undivided soul comes solely from one’s own mother appeared to me as an obvious truth: a new feeling of continuity through generations brought harmony into my house of remembrance. At that time, I already had some familiarity with Jewish religion and observance. My self education has been gradual ever since, in an effort to practice what I learn: a form of Torath Khayim, which naturally conforms to my upbringing. Only much later, I became aware of the historical reality of crypto Judaism and its various secret practices. Many of them (like customs of kashruth, house cleaning on Fridays, candle lighting, especially for Yahrzeit, etc) immediately sounded familiar to me; other ones (burial rites, special prayers, abstinence from leavened bread on Pesaq) were difficult to ascertain. The burning of hair clippings had always seemed a strange superstition to me: only a few years ago, still unknowing of its crypto Jewish significance, I had started to do it myself, simply out of respect for my mother’s memory. But one other ritual, usually not listed among the traditional Sephardic hallmarks, is worth mentioning,. Among Italian (and other) Jews, there is a custom of wearing around the neck a tiny silken bag, qame΄ah, containing a parchment with some augural words. I distinctly remember wearing one for a few years, from about three to six or seven years of age. I want to digress a moment, now, and refer to some other unusual practices, which, although not present in my family, were listed in Inquisition records as indicative of “vivere all’hebrea” (living a Jewish lifestyle): eating meat on Fridays and Saturdays, bathing at home (in times of less advanced personal care, even taken a bath could be singled out as strange), and slaughtering chickens by chopping off the head, rather than twisting the neck. Lastly, there is a linguistic feature. It should be noted that in Italy, a special variety of Judeo Romance developed, called giudeo italiano, Judeo Italian. The dialect had different regional colors; basically, it was an archaic form of Central Italian dialect with a few Hebrew words interspersed. Although the language is not spoken any longer, some remnants still persist in local idioms. One such relic is the verb sciattarsi |