Our Daily News Letter

(Special Correspondence from Dr. Edward N. Calisch)

It is literally true that the Jews are scattered over the face of the earth. But though we have been told this time and again, it is a distinct surprise to personally meet Jews in such out of the way places as Aden, Burma and other cities of the East. Riding down the street in Raugoon, Burma, I saw a firm-name over the door, Manook and Cohen. I stopped and went in to inquire. I was informed that there were about one thousand Jews in Raugoon, that they had a fine communal organization and a good synagogue. I did not have time to visit it. India has about 20,000 Jews, of whom 7,500 are in Bombay. There is a distinct Jewish quarter in Calcutta as in Bombay. Physically the Jews are indistinguishable from the native Indian, whether Hindu or Mohammedan. In fact the better class of Indians, mostly look like dark-skinned Jews. In Bombay the Sassoon family is the head of the community. The old synagogue, on Fort Street, in the heart of the business section, was built by the Sassoons. It is now a rather shabby building, with the synagogue on the upper floor and the ground floor given over to offices. There were less than 50 worshippers on the Sabbath morning I attended. But they had two very beautiful cases for the Sifre Torah, one of gold and one of silver.

Manila, P. I., has a communal organization, but not much religious activity, while at Singapore, the religious side seemed the stronger. A handsome synagogue, built by a Mr. Myer, serves the community. It presented a curious sight to western eyes in the large number of Yahrzeit lamps that hung on chains from rods stretched across the building. They are large glass bowls, in which a light is had from a wick floating in cocoanut oil. The outstanding figure in Singapore Jewry is Mr. Victor Clumeck, who occupies a fine position in the general community as well. His father-in-law, Mr. D. Frankel, is one of the pioneers of the community and even now, a patriarch of past 75 years, lives on his large rubber and cocoanut plantation some miles out of town.

But the greatest surprise came to me at Aden, just as one turns into the Red Sea going north. Aden is as uninviting as sterile mountains and barren ground can make a land. There is not a bit of indigenous vegetation in sight. The barrenness is brought forcibly home when one passes the cemeteries. There are three of them, almost side by side, Jewish, Christian and Mohammedan –and not a green spot or leaf in any of the three.

I stopped in front of a curio store and the merchant came out to show his wares. He was dark-skinned, in Turkish costume, fez on head. But I noticed the “peios” curling down from under the edge of the fez. I gave the age-old greeting; it was answered, and at once an entente cordial was established. There are from 12,000 to 15,000 Jews at Aden I was told who have lived there for many years, coming originally from Yemen. They have a number of synagogues, with Rabbis, and the usual charitable organizations–but I am inclined to discount the number given me. I believe there are less than 5,000, which was the estimate given by another coreligionist with whom I talked. But this aside, I cannot see how anybody wants to live at Aden. As in Biblical Canaan, wells are treasure-houses, and fresh water is a precious commodity to be paid for, to be contracted for, and doubtless often to be fought for. There are immense banks on the mountain side built to catch rain water–but it has not rained there now for over two years.