When we stepped off the plane in Gonder, Ethiopia, we didn’t know what to expect. Maital, Ronit (our close friend and Maital’s counselor on Nesiya), and I were supposed to meet Getenet, an Ethiopian Israeli who was helping the Gonder Jewish community with their Pesach seder. Ronit found a short, smiling man in the parking lot who immediately took our bags for us and explained in an Ethiopian accent, “slicha, ani lo yodeah anglit. Efshar l’daber b’ivrit?” “Sorry, I don’t know English, is it possible to speak in Hebrew?” Ronit, Maital, and I assured him that we all spoke Hebrew and then set off toward Gonder’s city center (or Piazza). Getenet introduced us to Getu, the president of the Jewish community, who doesn’t speak a word of Hebrew. So while we communicated with Getenet in Hebrew and Getu in English, they communicated with each other in Amharic, the dominant local languages in Ethiopia.
Getenet explained that there would be about 5,000 people at the seder. Although many claim that Chabad’s seder in Nepal is the largest in the world, we have to say that the seder in Gonder might actually be bigger! In preparation for the 5,000 person seder and for the week of Passover, the community employed 110 people to back 280,000 (no, I didn’t miscount the zeros) matzot in two weeks. The next day, we toured four rooms stacked high with matzot, or small light brown circles which ended up tasting like cardboard. But we didn’t expect Manischewitz. In addition to preparing the matzot, they were also fermenting wine in huge garbage bins.
Our first morning in Gonder, Thursday morning, we went to the Jewish compound that includes the synagogue, mikveh, and feeding center. We arrived at 7:00am in time for morning minyan. After getting the ok from the three armed guards sitting in front of the gate with a sign attached that read “Beta Israel,” the Falash Muras’ preferred title, we entered a huge space covered by sheet metal and tarps completely full of people dressed in white. The women sat on the left of the mechitza and the men on the right. The women (all of them – married and unmarried) wrapped themselves in white shawls and covered their heads with white scarves as well (most Ethiopians wear shawls all the time, we think due to the cold). About 30 of the 300 men donned beautiful, large t’filin and all the men were wrapped in matching white talitot with blue stripes. Four men stood facing away from the congregation on a high bimah, platform, and prayed in a soft monotone throughout the service. They prayed according to Sephardi nusach, mostly in Amharic. The congregation responded amen once in a while and chanted a few other prayers, but for the most part, the baalay t’filah, the service leaders, ran the show. Even the amidah was only said by the leaders and the congregants responded amen to the 19 benedictions. From my limited knowledge of the community, it seemed that the majority of people were either illiterate or there weren’t enough books for everyone. During the sh’ma, the congregants repeated each word the leaders said at such a fast pace that sometimes the leaders interrupted the congregation with the next word. It was a very interesting solution to the problems I mentioned above related to the amidah, and I reminded me of the repition of certain lines in Hallel.
The most exciting part of the service, in my opinion, was when they brought out the huge sephardic Torah with its large round case and brought it around the front of the bimah. Men started bowing their knees successively and kissing the tzitzit wrapped around their fingers while the women ululated in excitement. The leaders opened the Torah, people said the brachah after touching and kissing the Torah parchment, but someone faced the congregation and read the aliyah in Amharic. After the service, I asked Getenet if those who read the Torah in Amharic know how to read Torah in Hebrew. He answered that they don’t and would appreciate if I would read for them. So, just like that, I was assigned to read the Pesach reading a few days later.
After the service, Rabbi Waldman, an Israeli rabbi, who has had a relationship with the Ethiopian Jewish community for over twenty years, made his bimonthly phone call to the community. I was amazed to learn that every other Friday Rabbi Waldman calls to give a d’var Torah, which Getenet translates from Hebrew to Amharic (over the phone when he is in Israel). He gave a very moving speech, in which he spoke about the laws of Pesach from the Torah and from the rabbis, the prophecy from Jeremiah that the Jews would be brought back from their land from exile and the importance of am echad, mishpacha achat, one people, one family.
Most of the Jews from Ethiopia have already moved to Israel. Their family members, still in Gonder, came back to Judaism after practicing Christianity for many years. They were possibly forced to convert or given incentives which caused them to convert. These Jews want to be Jewish again and move to Israel to live with their family members. These people, who number around 12,000, have moved away from their villages and now rent space in Gonder to be close to the Jewish compound. They moved to the city so that they wouldn’t be forgotten in the transport of Jews to Israel. The Israeli government, who has promised to bring more Falash mura to Israel, recently stopped bringing people to Israel and are keeping these Jews in limbo. While these people wait in Gonder, they are receiving financial aid from an American non-profit called NACEJ, (The North American Committee for Ethiopian Jewry), which supplies food to children under six and pregnant mothers twice per day and runs the half day Hebrew school for Jewish culture.
After the services, I asked Getu how many of the people have family members living in Israel. He immediately turned to the congregation and called out in Amharic, “Raise your hands if your grandparents are in Israel.” One quarter of the room raised their hands. “Raise your hands if your mothers and fathers are in Israel.” Half the room raised their hands. “Uncles and aunts.” More raised their hands. “Brothers and sisters.” Almost half the room raised their hands and cheered. This was a room full of people whose families were in Israel and who couldn’t wait to make aliyah to live with them. Getu announced that just that morning, Ethiopian Israelis were protesting in Tel Aviv that the Israeli government bring the rest of Beta Israel to their homeland.
The next day, also the morning before the seder, many people came to volunteer to pick the pits out of hundreds of dates, to cut ginger, and to peel bananas in order to prepare kharoset, one of the necessities for the seder. This was by far the sweetest kharoset I’d ever tasted. In the next room, we could smell thousands of eggs and potatoes cooking in huge pots.
The seder itself was an amazing experience. There was great excitement as people tried to find any available seats amidst a crowd of 5,000. I was asked to sit with Getenet and Getu on the bimah to help them lead the seder, which was mostly in Amharic, except for the blessings and some of the songs. The end of the seder was the most incredible part. As everyone sang L’shana haba b’yerushalayim hab’nuyah, a group of boys started a moving moshpit as they screamed, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem!” It was an amazing feeling, and I looked over to see wide smiles on the faces of Getenet and Getu. It also stirred mixed emotions, because as they chanted, we realized that most likely next year would not be in Jerusalem for them and not by their choice!
The next night Maital and I made our own seder, in which we used haggadot from the community, although we read from the Hebrew side (not the Amharic one!) We were joined by 10 people, mostly Israeli travelers that were staying at the Belegez Pension with us and then two Americans that have been volunteering with the Jewish community for a few months. The seder was really great. We made it through the whole haggadah, had some really interesting conversations, and enjoyed Israeli wine, thanks to a present from Saba and Savta, Maital’s grandparents. There was an Israeli film crew that was in the area filming a documentary on the community that might air on arutz shtayim at some point in the future that stopped by for an hour and interviewed us a few days before. So who knows, we might be famous! The Israeli film crew also left us a box of Israeli matzah, which we rationed and made last for the rest of the holiday!!
We spent the rest of Pesach seeing some amazing castles and an Orthodox church in Gonder. We then made our way south to Bahir Dar where we hiked to see the Blue Nile waterfalls and took a boat on Lake Tana to see a few islands housing more incredible churches and even a monastery for 70 monks, where only men were allowed to visit. It was a truly incredible Pesach.
