Nehardea Magazine

Journal of the Babylonian Jewry Heritage Center
No.15, Winter 2005/2006

BABYLONIAN JEWS IN RECENT GENERATIONS

THE PASSOVER OF MY CHILDHOOD
Ezra Drori

As a child, of all the other holidays, Passover was the holiday I most impatiently waited for. Although all the other holidays had their own special unique characteristics, such as the experience of building the Sukka and then residing in it for 8 days, but still they could not compare to the most unique experience of Passover.

About a month or two before the holiday, mother would buy us new clothes, a white shirt, a vest and underpants, and new shoes as well. Sometimes, mother would buy us trousers, or sew them herself. The shopping spree was the event that signified the nearing of the holiday most of all. The joy was great and the heart sang.

About a month prior to the holiday, father would purchase the flour for the Matzos baking. A porter would bring home the sack of flour that father had bought, and it was kept in a special corner of the house. We would not touch it until the time came to bake the Matzos.

A week before, father would hire a Jewish bakery for one day only, which was made kosher for Passover in the Jeej Market (poultry market). The bakery was like a big, long shop, that had at the end of it two big ovens for baking the Iraqi Pita. These ovens were made kosher in time for the baking of Passover Matzos.

Passover exhibit in the Babylonian Jewry Museum

On the day set for the baking, we would rise early in the morning and the whole family would carry the sack of flour together with the necessary tools for making the Matzos. When there, mother would start making the first Matzos dough to be baked. Inside the bakery, a long table was placed, almost reaching the ovens, where the kids would sit around and prepare the Matzos from the dough. The entire family participated in the making of the Matzos, except for father and Yehuda, who went to work. When the elder relatives arrived with their children to help with the baking of the Matzos, the festivities reached a new height.
The commotion was great, but time was short, since the dough should not have the time to sour. Therefore, as soon as mother made the first batch of dough, she would place it on the long table, and everyone of the participants would take a small piece and start kneading it with a shubbak - rolling pin till it became a large flat pita, the size of an Iraqi pita, and very, very thin, thinner than the Matzos that they make in factories in Israel these days.

The ready-made Matzos were given to the baker who would stick them to the inside of the oven, and within a minute or two they were baked. The baker had to be extremely skilled with baking Matzos as well as the Iraqi pita, because the Matzos were so thin that if he had kept them in the oven for a few seconds longer they would have burnt.

The day before the holiday, mother would prepare the house for Passover. We would help her, but most of the burden would fall on here's and Menahem's shoulders. They would move every piece of furniture in the house, wash the floors, and sometimes even the walls, and then put everything in its place. The cleaning job must be over by evening time, because that's when father would arrive, light a candle and start his roaming, checking with the candle to see if we still had Hametz (leavened food) in the house. We, the children would follow him around, searching all the corners and holes in the walls for Hametz. This check would last about an hour, and once finished, he would declare the house kosher for Passover.

Once the house was declared kosher for Passover, it was time for the dishes. Almost every Jewish family in Iraq had special food crockery and cutlery, meant to be used only during Passover, and my family had them as well. These were special utensils, unique and beautiful, that would surpass the utensils that were for everyday use. The china that my mother had collected over the years was not part of a set, but each plate was more beautiful than the next. Aside from the plates, we had glass wine tumblers, special and pretty. The glasses were not a set either, and each child had his own special tumbler. I had a small glass, laced with a gold strip that I would use mainly on the Seder nights. (In Iraq, as in other Diaspora communities, we celebrated two Sedarim.)

In the night before the Seder - as on every holiday eve, the Jews would have a sleepless night at the Jeej Market, which would last till morning. At this special market, the usual commodities were sold - rice, meat, bread, special pastries like luzina, hajji badam, baqlawa, zingula (sweet pastries) together with other foods and savoury pastries such as sambusak (a hummus and vegetables filled pastry fried in a pan). The market was filled with shoppers. For us kids, this outing was what we waited for from holiday to holiday. We would go around the market in groups meeting our friends. We bought food or pastries, such as a big bun (simmoon) filled with amba or hlawa.

The next day we would hurry and eat our breakfast, to get to the Hagala (the immersion of dishes into boiling water to make them kosher). That same day in the afternoon, we would step into the shower, each in turn, and wash ourselves thoroughly. Afterwards we would wear our new cloths and go out to the alley show off the outfits.

Finally, the Seder night is here:
On the eve of Passover, the Seder night, we would all assemble around the festive table, which was covered with a white tablecloth and set with our finest Passover dishes. On the table we placed the Matzos we had baked ourselves, the hilleq - the Iraqi Haroset which is made from the juice of dates, ground walnuts, the celery with the lemon and all the other ingredients necessary for setting the Seder table.

All the siblings were seated around the table, waiting for father. Mother never sat with us. There was never a time when Mother sat with us, as she was always busy with something which prevented her from sitting at the table.

Sometimes we had the company of relatives who came from far away cities to stay with us during the Passover holiday. These guests always got to sit in the prestigious seats, next to father.

Father would arrive home from synagogue, after all was set and ready, wash his hands and sit at his regular place at the head of the table. Without delay, he would pour everyone some wine, stand up, and we would all stand up with him, and bless the wine. Then it was time to start reading the Haggada.

We would read: 'Ha Lahma Ania', and 'Ma Nishtanna', when everyone took their turn reading a chapter from the Haggada. The Iraqi versions of the Haggada had chapters in Hebrew, and translated chapters in Jewish Iraqi Arabic. Since we did not understand that which was written in Hebrew, we would read it without understanding what it meant, and then read the Arabic translation. Once the reading of the Haggada was done, we were free to start the feast, which tasted like heaven. To this day, I still don't know whether the feast itself tasted like heaven or whether it was the holiday atmosphere, and the sitting around the table that made it so, or perhaps it was the long wait which added magical spices to the meal.

They say all passes, but good days seem to fly by. So it was with Passover. I would attempt to hold on to the days of Passover, to keep them from vanishing so quickly, and for some reason, it helped not at all. The nights of the ÒSederÓ would hardly be over and already I found myself in the last day of Passover in the afternoon. Then they would call me or Moris to bring a tray with little bowls filled with laban and Iraqi pitas from the house of Hajji Ali, our Muslim neighbour, who lived opposite us with his two wives. This custom repeated itself every Passover. Hajji Ali's wives would make the laban and pitas, and send the tray to us when the holiday was over, so that we would have Hametz to eat.

That evening, we would all gather around Mother, watching her as she washed the Passover dishes, dried them and packed them in a reed basket that she had for that purpose. After that she would wrap the basket in cloth and give it to one of my brothers to store in the attic. We knew we would only see these dishes again next year, may it be a good one. This was a sad ceremony for the older people, and even more depressing for us younger ones. We were saddened that the holiday days were over and it was time to return to the weekdays and school.

Next Article

Table of Contents

BABYLONIAN JEWS IN RECENT GENERATIONS
THE PASSOVER OF MY CHILDHOOD Ezra Drori
As a child, of all the other holidays, Passover was the holiday I most impatiently waited for. Although all the other holidays had their own special unique characteristics, such as the experience of building the Sukka and then residing in it for 8 days, but still they could not compare to the most unique experience of Passover. About a month or two before the holiday, mother would buy us new clothes, a white shirt, a vest and underpants, and new shoes as well. Sometimes, mother would buy us trousers, or sew them herself. The shopping spree was the event that signified the nearing of the holiday most of all. The joy was great and the heart sang. About a month prior to the holiday, father would purchase the flour for the Matzos baking. A porter would bring home the sack of flour that father had bought, and it was kept in a special corner of the house. We would not touch it until the time came to bake the Matzos. A week before, father would hire a Jewish bakery for one day only, which was made kosher for Passover in the Jeej Market (poultry market). The bakery was like a big, long shop, that had at the end of it two big ovens for baking the Iraqi Pita. These ovens were made kosher in time for the baking of Passover Matzos. Passover exhibit in the Babylonian Jewry Museum On the day set for the baking, we would rise early in the morning and the whole family would carry the sack of flour together with the necessary tools for making the Matzos. When there, mother would start making the first Matzos dough to be baked. Inside the bakery, a long table was placed, almost reaching the ovens, where the kids would sit around and prepare the Matzos from the dough. The entire family participated in the making of the Matzos, except for father and Yehuda, who went to work. When the elder relatives arrived with their children to help with the baking of the Matzos, the festivities reached a new height. The commotion was great, but time was short, since the dough should not have the time to sour. Therefore, as soon as mother made the first batch of dough, she would place it on the long table, and everyone of the participants would take a small piece and start kneading it with a shubbak - rolling pin till it became a large flat pita, the size of an Iraqi pita, and very, very thin, thinner than the Matzos that they make in factories in Israel these days. The ready-made Matzos were given to the baker who would stick them to the inside of the oven, and within a minute or two they were baked. The baker had to be extremely skilled with baking Matzos as well as the Iraqi pita, because the Matzos were so thin that if he had kept them in the oven for a few seconds longer they would have burnt. The day before the holiday, mother would prepare the house for Passover. We would help her, but most of the burden would fall on here's and Menahem's shoulders. They would move every piece of furniture in the house, wash the floors, and sometimes even the walls, and then put everything in its place. The cleaning job must be over by evening time, because that's when father would arrive, light a candle and start his roaming, checking with the candle to see if we still had Hametz (leavened food) in the house. We, the children would follow him around, searching all the corners and holes in the walls for Hametz. This check would last about an hour, and once finished, he would declare the house kosher for Passover. Once the house was declared kosher for Passover, it was time for the dishes. Almost every Jewish family in Iraq had special food crockery and cutlery, meant to be used only during Passover, and my family had them as well. These were special utensils, unique and beautiful, that would surpass the utensils that were for everyday use. The china that my mother had collected over the years was not part of a set, but each plate was more beautiful than the next. Aside from the plates, we had glass wine tumblers, special and pretty. The glasses were not a set either, and each child had his own special tumbler. I had a small glass, laced with a gold strip that I would use mainly on the Seder nights. (In Iraq, as in other Diaspora communities, we celebrated two Sedarim.) In the night before the Seder - as on every holiday eve, the Jews would have a sleepless night at the Jeej Market, which would last till morning. At this special market, the usual commodities were sold - rice, meat, bread, special pastries like luzina, hajji badam, baqlawa, zingula (sweet pastries) together with other foods and savoury pastries such as sambusak (a hummus and vegetables filled pastry fried in a pan). The market was filled with shoppers. For us kids, this outing was what we waited for from holiday to holiday. We would go around the market in groups meeting our friends. We bought food or pastries, such as a big bun (simmoon) filled with amba or hlawa. The next day we would hurry and eat our breakfast, to get to the Hagala (the immersion of dishes into boiling water to make them kosher). That same day in the afternoon, we would step into the shower, each in turn, and wash ourselves thoroughly. Afterwards we would wear our new cloths and go out to the alley show off the outfits. Finally, the Seder night is here: On the eve of Passover, the Seder night, we would all assemble around the festive table, which was covered with a white tablecloth and set with our finest Passover dishes. On the table we placed the Matzos we had baked ourselves, the hilleq - the Iraqi Haroset which is made from the juice of dates, ground walnuts, the celery with the lemon and all the other ingredients necessary for setting the Seder table. All the siblings were seated around the table, waiting for father. Mother never sat with us. There was never a time when Mother sat with us, as she was always busy with something which prevented her from sitting at the table. Sometimes we had the company of relatives who came from far away cities to stay with us during the Passover holiday. These guests always got to sit in the prestigious seats, next to father. Father would arrive home from synagogue, after all was set and ready, wash his hands and sit at his regular place at the head of the table. Without delay, he would pour everyone some wine, stand up, and we would all stand up with him, and bless the wine. Then it was time to start reading the Haggada. We would read: 'Ha Lahma Ania', and 'Ma Nishtanna', when everyone took their turn reading a chapter from the Haggada. The Iraqi versions of the Haggada had chapters in Hebrew, and translated chapters in Jewish Iraqi Arabic. Since we did not understand that which was written in Hebrew, we would read it without understanding what it meant, and then read the Arabic translation. Once the reading of the Haggada was done, we were free to start the feast, which tasted like heaven. To this day, I still don't know whether the feast itself tasted like heaven or whether it was the holiday atmosphere, and the sitting around the table that made it so, or perhaps it was the long wait which added magical spices to the meal. They say all passes, but good days seem to fly by. So it was with Passover. I would attempt to hold on to the days of Passover, to keep them from vanishing so quickly, and for some reason, it helped not at all. The nights of the ÒSederÓ would hardly be over and already I found myself in the last day of Passover in the afternoon. Then they would call me or Moris to bring a tray with little bowls filled with laban and Iraqi pitas from the house of Hajji Ali, our Muslim neighbour, who lived opposite us with his two wives. This custom repeated itself every Passover. Hajji Ali's wives would make the laban and pitas, and send the tray to us when the holiday was over, so that we would have Hametz to eat. That evening, we would all gather around Mother, watching her as she washed the Passover dishes, dried them and packed them in a reed basket that she had for that purpose. After that she would wrap the basket in cloth and give it to one of my brothers to store in the attic. We knew we would only see these dishes again next year, may it be a good one. This was a sad ceremony for the older people, and even more depressing for us younger ones. We were saddened that the holiday days were over and it was time to return to the weekdays and school.
	Next Article	Table of Contents