THE KEY TO THE 500-YEAR OLD DOOR
by Judy Frankel This article, was printed in commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the forced conversion of the Jews of Portugal Reprinted from HaLapid Fall 1997 It was 7:a.m. on Corpus Christi Day, 1989, when my travel companion and I left Lisbon for Belmonte. 7 1/2 hours later we stepped off the train at the tiny blue and white-tiled station nestled in the hills of northern Portugal, far from the hand of the Inquisition, and hopped into one of two taxis. We asked the driver if he knew of David Canelo (who wrote THE LAST CRYPTO-JEWS OF PORTUGAL). He asked, "O, Judeos?", graciously guiding us to a cafe which had rooms to let upstairs. (The tariff read "750" and we weren't sure where to put the decimal point. It turned out our monastic-like rooms were $7.50 per day!) With old iron skeleton keys, we locked our rooms and set out by foot with camera and tape recorder to find Canelo and the Judeos (Crypto-Jews). As we approached the center of town, we heard a slow drumbeat as a procession of darkly-clad people crossed from the church to the nearby park for a picnic. As neither of us spoke Portuguese, we went to a cafe to ask if anyone spoke Spanish. A young man offered to help us, escorting us through the narrow dirt streets to the homes of several Judeos. However they were all at the Corpus Christi picnic. We were taken to the home of David Canelo. a non-Jew who had grown up in the town and knew the Judeos very well. Canelo offered to be our escort and interpreter (translating our French and Spanish into Portuguese). Under a cloudy, gray El Greco sky, we squeezed into David's small, screaming-red car and threaded our way through the narrow, winding streets to the old stone church at the top of Belmonte (beautiful mountain). En route, David pointed out various houses where Judeos lived. He took us into the Catholic church and the adjacent graveyard filled with crosses and flowers. Across the vista we could see a mysterious stone castle under an eerie, stormy sky. We were completely alone on the hill. In the dusk, the air was heavy and still . We drove down to an area of houses and parked under a streetlamp, quietly waiting to be noticed. Soon several shadowy figures cautiously approached the car, recognized David, and came close enough to exchange greetings with him and inspect the two strangers inside. After extensive discussion between David and the Judeos outside, it was decided that I was to roll down my window and prove somehow that I was a Jew! That was no easy task, given their suspiciousness, even five centuries after the forced conversions of their ancestors! In the dark, misty night I offered a few verses in Ladino. There was no response. Then I sang the "Hatikvah" in Hebrew. There was a small, timid acknowledgment; a vague recognition by a few who began pointing their fingers at us. I decided to sing the "Shema", the core prayer of our culture. THAT WAS THE KEY THAT UNLOCKED THE 500-YEAR OLD DOOR! When they heard the word "Adonai”, they knew that we, also, must be "Judeos", Only then did they feel safe enough to invite us, through David, for a visit in one of their homes. A plan was made to return in two hours to a specific house, and we drove off to treat David and his wife Mimi to dinner. Later that night, arriving at the appointed address, we found the lights out and the windows tightly shuttered, as if the house had been vacated. No one answered the door. Nothing moved behind the shutters. Having arrived in Portugal only the day before, we were fatigued and felt disheartened. Our spirits sagged as we drove back to the same street lamp and turned off the motor. Again, we waited in the blackness. Again, mysterious figures emerged from out of nowhere, encircling the car. After more negotiations and assurances we were finally escorted back to the house. This time the door was opened and we were welcomed in with bottles of soda and a tray of candies. (Astonishingly this was David's first visit inside the home of a Judeo, the home of a man he had known since childhood, a man he had interviewed for his book!) It was modest but tidy inside, decorated with several old Israel travel posters, bits of Judaica and a tin menorah on the bookcase. Our host, in his 50's, said that he thought of himself as "a good Jew" and that he intended for his son to make his Bar Mitzvah next year. Our host's mother and son appeared to live with him, and all three seemed excited about the upcoming celebration. I was asked to sing, which I did in Ladino and in Hebrew. After awhile, our host agreed to let me tape record his singing of the prayers he and the other secret Jews sang, hymns they had sung as long as he could remember. They were in Portuguese. (Had they been in Hebrew, the Jews most surely would have been caught centuries ago.) One was about the Exodus from Egypt, and another, with the "Hatikvah" melody, was about hope and "the place where David wanted to dwell". He sang them softly but with conviction. Disappearing into one of the back rooms for a few minutes, our host reappeared reverently carrying two statues. With pride he told us that they were "St. Esther" and 'St. Moshe". Although we were asked not to take any photographs, the evening concluded very cordially, and we were invited to meet the host's sister-in-law and family the next day at her home. Our meeting took place in the rear of the house, in the family's beautiful dark, wood-paneled dining-room where we were seated around a large wooden table. There was a Magen David on the wall. After introductions and brief pleasantries, our hostess agreed to let me record her singing some of the Crypto-Judaic prayers. Just as we were about to begin, a group of male family members burst into the room and a heated discussion ensued. The debate centered on my tape recording the songs. In the end, the men left and the sister-in-law, in a velvety alto, sang several of the prayers we had heard the previous night. Again, we were asked not to photograph anyone or anything that we had seen. Many of the Crypto-Jews of northern Portugal manufacture men's trousers, later selling the goods at the marketplace. We were taken to one of these "pants factories" where a number of Judeos shyly greeted us. The family resemblances were striking because they tend to marry only within their own group. In general, the Judeos seem reserved; timid and somewhat distrustful of strangers. Belmonte is isolated and until recently, the Judeos had little contact with the Lisbon Jews. During these 500 years, the forced converts (anusim in Hebrew) would go to the church on the hill, on the 'bel monte', for family baptisms, weddings and funerals. I was told that as a Judeo entered the Catholic church, he would whisper to himself: "I come here neither to worship wood nor stone; only to worship You, Highest Lord, who governs us." Judy Frankel is well known as a performer of Ladino Folk Songs. She has traveled widely to interview Sephardic women and collect their music. We are grateful for her part in preserving this great heritage. She has many CDs and a volume of Sephardic music available. You can see more about her at her website: http://www.rahul.net/hrmusic/artists/jfart.html |
Society For Crypto Judaic Studies
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