I’d like you to meet Moshe, Dr. Jose Miller, and Dr. Rosa Behar in person. I really would, but I can’t arrange it. They live in Cuba, one of the only Communist dictatorships that still exists, and they can’t leave. Marian and I had the privilege of meeting them there this July as part of a humanitarian mission from our local Jewish Federation to the Jewish community of Cuba.

Moshe? He’s five. He’s a brat. He is also an example of the renaissance that’s currently taking place among the Jews of Cuba. When Moshe was born, he never had a brit milah, a ritual circumcision. While his father was Jewish, his mother wasn’t. She converted to Judaism after Moshe was born. Moshe needed a brit. He was already four years old, so it was going to be done under a general anesthetic. The IV was in his arm and he asked what was in it. To calm his fears, the nurse told him it contained something with which all Cubans are familiar: pork, rice, and beans. “Take out the pork!” shouted four year old Moshe. “I’m a Jew!”

Dr. Miller, Dr. Jose Miller Fredman? President of the Jewish community of Cuba, he’s a large part of the reason that it hasn’t disappeared altogether, and is in fact, experiencing something of a renaissance. A white-haired bear of a man, at 77, he’s still the heart and soul of the Cuban Jews. Let him tell what has happened there in his own words:

In the early sixties [when Castro came to power] about 90% of Cuban Jews emigrated, most to the United States… Those who stayed - approximately 1,200 in number - have been living for twenty years without a Jewish way of life. No Rabbi or Mohel, no Jewish school, no Jewish education. Youngsters were raised without brit-milah or bar-mitzvah and had never seen a Jewish wedding. They became adults ignorant of Judaism. As time passed Jewish tradition was almost completely abandoned.

During this time we were aware of 250 families, representing 750 people, only because they came to the synagogue once a year to collect their Passover food that the Canadian Jewish Congress donated.

We had to seek out, approach and recruit younger Jews. Some active and diligent people were contacted in each of the localities in order to create in each one of those cities or small towns a center of attraction for local Jews. In this way we enlisted 110 families in the provinces and 400 in Havana.

Now there are eight congregations outside of Havana; the largest has 30 families, while the smallest has seven.

Since 1992 a rabbinical tribunal [a Bet Din] has been assembled [periodically] to supervise and to provide conversions…

[At the time of this writing, there have been] approximately 100 conversions; 80 circumcisions and 53 weddings.

After the conversion process the most skillful youngsters in knowledge of Judaism have been trained for educational and religious purposes.

Sunday schools have flourished… the largest, located in Havana, has 40 children.

Chorus and dancing groups have been assembled among our boys and girls for liturgical and cultural activities.

Youngsters have their own organization where they develop leadership abilities.

There is a women’s organization and it plays an important role in different areas including synagogue services and in caring for the elderly and the sick.

Each week in every congregation, Shabbat is received joyfully and religious services take place with more than a minyan.

The reality is that our community has totally transformed, and I assume it will continue in that way.

Those who do not believe in miracles and think erroneously that half Jews and converted non-Jewish spouses can’t make a difference in the spiritual and emotional life and actions of a Jewish congregation, should take a look at the Cuban Jewish community. 

Dr. Rosa Behar? She’s a practicing gastroenterologist. Along with her daughter, a registered pharmacist, and other volunteers, she heads the free pharmacy located in the Patronato, the largest synagogue in Havana. Health care is free in Cuba, but many medicines, toiletries, vitamins – things we can get so easily and take for granted – are unaffordable and often unavailable. The pharmacy provides these precious items to the Jewish community free of charge. Rosa told us that they can’t, of course, service the entire population, but if non-Jews come for help they receive it as well.

Every mission that comes, and they average one every other month, brings medicine, toys, clothing, and anything else that can be of help. One of our congregants, a pharmacist, got me some of the medicines that were so desperately needed. Another person gave me a bag of toiletries -- small bottles and soaps and things collected on various hotel visits.

Most of us, in addition to our own luggage, carried old suitcases that Jonathan Feldstein, the head of our Rockland United Jewish Community, had collected. We were supposed to fill them here to be left in Cuba. People are sometimes allowed out to go to Israel, or elsewhere, and they have no luggage in which to carry their belongings.

There are no real restrictions on what we could bring in, but two suitcases and a carry-on per person are all that’s allowed, and they can weigh, together, no more than 44 pounds. Almost every one of us was well over that. What could we do? Consolidate! So there we were, a bunch of middle-aged Jews and one teenage son, sitting on the floor of the Miami airport re-packing suitcases, keeping those things, like medicine, that were most important, and stuffing everything we could into our carry-ons. It looked like a rummage sale and we got some very interesting looks from the other people at the airport. We had to leave only four suitcases, mostly filled with clothes, so it wasn’t too much of a catastrophe.

Lastly, I want you to meet two more people, Mara and Nestor. They’re an engaged couple in their twenties from Argentina. They’ve been in Cuba for the last 2 ½ years as representatives of the JDC, the Joint Distribution Committee, fondly referred to as the “Joint.” It was founded in 1914 as the agency that helps Jews outside the United States. A number of years ago, in Russia, Marian and I met and delivered food to a number of elderly Jews that the Joint helps keep alive. In Cuba we met an entire community.

Mara and Nestor are two of the finest people I have ever met. Quietly, gently, they’ve helped reinforce what’s already there, and with incredible energy, they’ve started new programs of every sort, from a national Jewish dance troupe to Jewish summer camps, to leadership training institutes, to a national magazine, and more. They’ve already stayed on six months more than they were asked to in order to help more of their programs come to fruition. They’re engaged to be married, but haven’t yet been able to find the time to go back to Argentina to have the wedding!

Cuba is a third world country where the average monthly income is between $10 and $15 dollars. A “successful” medical specialist might make about $35-$45 a month. Do the math. Yearly salaries range from about $120 to about $600!

Hot water is almost unheard of because no one can afford heaters. Many homes are dark because even though the electricity usually works, there are almost no light bulbs available. Food is rationed. You bring your ration card to the state store, along with your own bottle to get your quota of the cooking oil that’s stored in a large plastic keg. You are allowed 1 bar of soap per person every other month, a small, green thing that smells like congealed smog, seven eggs per person per month in Havana, three in the provinces, six pounds of beans, six pounds of rice, 2 small pieces of fish, a kilo – 2.2 pounds – of chicken every other month, etc. Many American families often eat more at one meal than a Cuban family’s ration for the entire month.

Although the Cuban peso is officially valued at one to a dollar, the actual exchange rate is 26 pesos to the dollar. We saw people waiting in line in the broiling sun for 1 ½ to 2 ½ hours to buy an ice cream cone at the only stand in Havana that sells decent ice cream for pesos at the “official” rate. It’s all they can afford. Since 1993, Castro has allowed the US dollar to be used as legal tender. There are dollar stores where much that isn’t available elsewhere can be bought, but only for dollars. That’s why cleaning other people’s toilets in the hotels, or any job that brings you into contact with people who pay or tip in dollars, is so desirable.

American credit cards are not usable in Cuba, so everything has to be in cash, and small bills at that. I took a nice sum of money with me from my discretionary fund. I didn’t buy anything with it, but somehow or other, it didn’t come back with me. Gee, I must have lost it somewhere in the Jewish community.

To get dollars, anyone who can, steals. For example, we visited a cigar factory. Half the workers got up from the benches where they were making them with handfuls of cigars and offered to sell them to us, for dollars, of course. Where was the supervisor? He’d undoubtedly been bribed, with dollars, to look the other way. You either spend your dollars legally, in the dollar stores, or on the black market, where you can get almost anything. In large measure, Cuba’s economy is based on lies and theft.

How can people live this way? Basically, they can’t, especially the elderly who can’t get dollars because they don’t usually have access to anything they can steal. Their government pensions, in pesos, are almost worthless. About the only way to get by in Cuba is with help from the outside.

We Jews take care of each other. With our assistance, the Jewish community survives. The Young Leadership Division of UJA pays for a program that provides a chicken dinner in the synagogues for the entire Jewish population every Friday after Shabbat services. It is certainly the best meal the people have all week. For the elderly, it may be their only full meal. The cost of the program is $12,000 for an entire year for the whole country!

At many of our meals we left two or three seats open at each table so we could be joined by guests from the Jewish community. Inconspicuously, sheepishly, they all took home doggie bags of whatever they could. Since there was always more than enough at the meals served to tourists, this could be a fair amount of food. At least they and their families would, for a day or so, have enough to eat. “It’s for the children,” the woman next to me mumbled, obviously embarrassed. I pretended not to hear her, or see what she was doing.

There are four synagogues in Havana. We visited the three that are still open. Each one had a Tzedakah box. We did what we could not let them stay empty. Maybe that’s where some of my money got lost. At first it seemed strange that we saw some of the same elderly people welcoming us at each synagogue we visited, sitting inside while we were there, and bidding us farewell as we left. Then we understood. They were begging for money. Some asked outright, some just stood by quietly. Can you imagine your parents or grandparents having to stand outside of this building as we leave, hoping we’d give them some of the precious dollars that might make their lives a little more bearable? I guess that’s where I must have lost some more of the money I brought.

In order to avoid an eight hour drive, we went by plane to visit another Jewish community in the city of Camaguey. We met the people at their synagogue. Now I know what it is like to be treated like a rock star. Before we even got off the bus that picked us up at the airport, the people were clapping and cheering and singing. They hugged and kissed us and laughed and applauded, especially the children. They knew we brought gifts. My son, Evan, had given us four Yankee baseball caps. In a baseball-crazed country like Cuba, they are worth their weight in gold. Marian give them to four kids. They didn’t take them off all afternoon, and may still be wearing them. In the pictures of our Mission in the last issue of the Rockland Jewish Reporter you can see one of kids proudly wearing his Yankee hat.

Just before we got to Camaguey, the electricity went out. No fans. The people were mortified. Cuba is so hot and humid you can practically drown just standing still. But lunch, paid for by the Joint Distribution Committee, went on anyway. We were entertained with a short concert by a trio of men from the community and then, in spite of the heat, we all sang Hebrew songs and danced the hora. As Marian said, we didn’t speak Spanish, they didn’t speak English, but we all spoke the language of being Jews.

The Jews of Camaguey are in the process of refurbishing and expanding their synagogue. It is the custom that each mission asks what can be done to help. A new floor is needed in Camaguey and would cost $2,500. There were ten family units on our trip. Congregation Tiffereth Israel, the Camaguey synagogue, will get its new floor.

We Jews always take care of each other, and it works both ways. Right after 9/11 the president of the Camaguey synagogue wrote to our Federation in Rockland. He knew we were somewhere in New York and wanted to see if we were OK. While we were there, an Argentinean Jew vacationing in Cuba died. Dr. Miller cut through the red tape to prevent an autopsy and saw to it that the body would be properly prepared in Cuba for a Jewish burial after it arrived back in Argentina. Nestor, the JDC representative, spent a whole day helping the family with the practical details and trying to console them. We Jews always take care of each other.

The Cuban synagogues charge one peso per person per month as dues. That comes out to about fifty cents per year. If every one of the approximately 1,500 Jews in Cuba pays, the yearly dues for the entire Jewish community comes out to about $750, less than half of our Temple’s standard annual dues for one family!

One peso a month doesn’t pay for anything. It’s just a symbolic token of affiliation. In a place like Cuba, can you imagine what a difference even a few of our dollars can make? Can you imagine how much good even $100 from each of our families could do?

I know it is uncomfortable to be asked to give money. I’m not overly comfortable doing the asking. But these are not just impersonal organizations with strange-sounding names like Federation, United Jewish Community, Joint Distribution Committee. These are the groups that literally keep our people alive, people like Moshe, and Dr. Miller, and Dr. Behar who, with our help, have, each, in their own way, helped to produce somewhat of a Jewish renaissance in Cuba. You’ve met Mara and Nestor, two incredibly committed young people who’ve devoted their lives to helping fellow Jews. Some of what we give helps make this possible.

But you haven’t met many of the others, fellow Jews who are trapped in a totalitarian, third-world country and can’t possibly survive without our help. Friends, this is where our money goes! This is the way it helps! Please, I urge you, look deeply into your hearts and dig even more deeply into your pockets. You will do more good than you can begin to imagine.