A Semester at Sea aliyah in Cuba

KAYLA GARAWAY SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH BULLETIN

The population of Cuba is predominantly Catholic, so I anticipated having little to no Jewish interaction or related experiences while on the University of Pittsburgh's Semester at Sea program, other than with fellow Jews on the ship. Shabbat dinners, davening (praying) shacharit (morning prayers) at least once a week and annual Jewish holidays were rituals I was sacrificing to travel around the world. But when Tatiana Santos-Mendes stood at the end of the gangway, waiting for Grant, Jaclyn, Lisa and me, her inviting smile, immediate charisma and thick Cuban-Israeli accent assured me that my day would be full of surprises and unforgettable learning experiences.

The stop in Cuba was part of a trip that left in January and took me and some 650 other students to Cuba, Brazil, South Africa, Tanzania, Kenya, India, Japan, South Korea, Alaska and Victoria, finally docking in Seattle in May. It is a program open to applicants from all over North America and students can receive full university credits for their courses on this "floating campus."

In Cuba, we were to visit three synagogues. Our first stop was Adat Israel, the Orthodox shul. The praying and singing coming from the tiny room resembled prayers with which I was familiar, despite the mixed Hebrew and Spanish vernacular, and it was evident that we had walked into shacharit services. Grant stood on the left and the four of us females observed on the right. As I watched the service and made ready to go to the next shul, I listened patiently and realized that my previous view of religion in Cuba was quickly diminishing.

A small, beat-up, 1957 teal car was our transportation around old Havana and successfully got us to our second synagogue. The Sefardic Centre was obviously in the middle of shacharit as well, so we stood in, were given siddurim (prayer books) and were able to participate in the Amidah, a personal prayer and blessing thanking G-d. Instead of an English translation on the opposite page of the Hebrew in the siddur, the print was Spanish. Due to my amazement of spoken Hebrew with Spanish accents and excitement that Cubans and North Americans knew the same tunes for familiar prayers, I begged Tatiana if I could keep a prayer book as a souvenir and she agreed.

I suspected that the next synagogue would not be able to surpass the unforgettable experiences of the previous two – a suspicion that would be proven wrong. What looked like a giant gymnasium with steps leading up to beautiful light blue and golden doors, which were covered in magen Davids (Jewish stars) and menorot, was actually the third and final synagogue we would visit. Beth Shalom is a Conservative synagogue that Tatiana belongs to and she attends services there every weekend, along with teaching at its Hebrew school. We heard a man speaking English and spoke to him. His name was Toby Feldman – Rabbi Feldman. He revealed his Canadian heritage and we connected over our similar stories: We are both from the same part of Vancouver. We are both members of Beth Israel Synagogue and when I told him that my last name is Garaway, he revealed that he is friendly with my grandfather, Max, and that he sits next to my family during High Holiday services every year. I smiled at the unbelievable coincidence.

As we entered the building, we were treated like celebrities as Tatiana introduced us to the leaders of the synagogue – the rabbi, cantor and manager. We were able to enter the sanctuary and participate or simply listen to the last hour and a half of the service. I sat attentively and wished my mother were sitting next to me so that she could share the feelings and sense of joy that I had.
I got a tap on my shoulder and it was Tatiana, asking me if I wanted to have an aliyah (literally, "to go up"). An aliyah is possibly the holiest and most sacred prayer that one can perform in the synagogue service. It is a ritual that takes place before and after someone else reads an excerpt from the Torah. I wished for my mother's presence more than ever at the moment that I agreed to the aliyah. The idea of her seeing me up on the bimah (the platform from which services are conducted), about to take part in an aliyah moved me.

I nervously twitched in my chair as the moment grew closer. As a practising Conservative Jew, the prayer was something that I had recited numerous times in my life. I did not need the siddur, as I have the prayer memorized, but the idea of standing up in front of a strange congregation to sing frightened me. I started flipping through the siddur pages frantically, attempting to find the page where the words would be written; but my task was harder than I expected as the index was in Spanish. Ten minutes before crunch time, the correct page appeared before me. I sighed with relief as I sang the four separate sentences over and over in my head, to ensure that my memorization would stay strong.
I was called to the Torah, up to the bimah.

"Ruth, bat Miriam, ben Levi Yitzak," which is my Hebrew name, my mother's and then my father's – normal protocol when one is called to the Torah. I wrap the tallit (prayer shawl) around my shoulders, my nervous hands shaking. The rabbi points to the spot in the Torah from where he will be reading. I wrap my tallit string around my fingers, kiss the parchment paper where he will begin and inhale a deep breath.

"Barchu et Adonai ha-m'vorach...." ("Praise the Lord, Source of blessing....") My once frightened voice is now strong and confident as my holy hymn ricochets through the sanctuary. I feel 13 again, during my first aliyah at my bat mitzvah in 1995. Quick flashbacks of my mother's joyful face flicker through my head and I remember how proud she was that day, seeing her daughter bravely perform an aliyah and gradually become a woman.

The feeling of appreciation I felt by having an aliyah did not stop when I stepped down from the bimah. The next few moments were filled with yasher koachs (continued strength, a term meaning congratulations or great work), kisses that landed on both cheeks and compliments on my victorious voice.

I had immense appreciation for the opportunity to share in this cultural experience, but even more appreciation towards Tatiana for going out of her way to introduce us to her Cuban Jewish community. Tatiana's mitzvah could have been overlooked, as she was simply being friendly and welcoming.

Not only did I feel special and proud in this surrounding, but I also felt like I belonged. I was able to find a home where my level of observance of Judaism was respected and appreciated, even though I was thousands of miles away from Canada.

As I left Beth Shalom with Tatiana and my friends, I had that tingly feeling inside my stomach, the feeling eight-year-olds get when they anticipate getting a new bike for their birthday. I also had a smile on my face that resurfaces every time I tell someone this phenomenal story.

My experience in Cuba taught me many different things about the Cuban Jewish community, and opened up my eyes to a culture based on tradition, togetherness and acceptance. The intense feelings that jolted through my entire body that day represented my overwhelming joy of "feeling Jewish" for the first time on Semester at Sea, how proud I am to be Jewish and the unbelievable sensation of having an aliyah in Cuba.

Kayla Garaway, 21, is entering her fourth year of studies in English literature at the University of Victoria.

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