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The Cost of Sugar(7)

By:Cynthia McLeod


Together they walked and he told Elza how he had come to Suriname as assistant-administrator. His great-uncle, who was the owner of a bank in Amsterdam and also of several plantations in Suriname and Berbice15, had decreed that he, Rutger, should learn the trade of administrator. When Elza remarked that that uncle must be extremely wealthy, Rutger had laughed and confirmed that his great-uncle was indeed very rich. He, Rutger, belonged to the poor branch of the family and was also no heir, since great-uncle had four daughters. His grandmother, who was a sister of his great-uncle, had been married to an exiled Huguenot, which explained his French surname.

Elza in turn recounted how she lived on the Hébron Plantation together with her father, stepmother Rachel and stepsisters Rebecca and Sarith. Her own brother David was already married and had a plantation on the Para River.

“Was that pretty girl who stood next to you on the jetty one of the stepsisters?”

“Yes, that was Sarith,” said Elza.

“What a pretty girl that was,” remarked Rutger. Elza nodded. Yes, Sarith was certainly pretty. Everyone was always saying that. Everywhere they went it was Sarith who was noticed first, and time and time again it was remarked how attractive she was. Yesterday, when they had arrived, everyone had yet again admired her beauty. Aunt Jezebel, Sarith’s grandmother, had said this on many occasions to grandma; Aunt Sarah, Aunt Rachel’s sister, had mentioned it, and Aunt Rachel beamed with pride every time she heard how beautiful everyone found her youngest daughter. The eyes of all the men beheld Sarith with wonder, and one of the older ladies had remarked that Sarith was already fully a young lady, while Elza, of the same age, was still only a girl.

“Do you come to Joden-Savanna very often?” Rutger was asking.

“Oh, at least once a year. It’s my grandmother’s birthday today, and it’s important to her that everyone knows that she and the synagogue share the same birthday, and very often this coincides with the Feast of Tabernacles, you see. And so it goes.”

“And do you always have to wait outside when there’s a service in the synagogue?” Rutger repeated.

“Yes, always, but it really doesn’t matter,” answered Elza. “We ourselves have been baptized as Lutherans, because my mother was Lutheran, and as children Pa always dropped us off in the town at Christmas, to stay with our grandfather, our mother’s father. But Grandfather died five years ago, and since then we’ve never been in the church in Paramaribo at Christmas.”

“But isn’t it difficult being Jewish as well as Christian?” asked Rutger admiringly.

“Oh, all that fuss about nothing. I think that it doesn’t matter to God whether people are Jewish or Protestant or Catholic as long as they lead a good life and do no harm to other people.”

“What a wise and well-considered remark for a young girl,” said Rutger, looking at her amusedly.

“Are wise remarks always reserved for men and old women, then?” asked Elza.

“Of course not, but you don’t fit in so well with the young ladies,” replied Rutger.

“At least, the men think that,” said Elza sharply.

Now Rutger laughed out loud: “Miss Elza, I think you’re exceptionally quick-witted.”

As they walked back, Elza showed him how the village was constructed, as a square with four streets across. The houses in the corners of this square were large and comfortable, the others sometimes simpler, but everything was very attractive. Most of the houses had gardens on the slopes. And in the middle of all this, the lovely synagogue, built of bricks, about thirty metres long, fourteen metres wide and eleven metres high. If possible, she would let him look inside later. There was a beautifully decorated ceiling and a huge cedarwood ark with lovely carvings in which the Torah scrolls were kept. Silver chandeliers, large candelabra and various candlesticks.

Jews and gentiles were in agreement: this synagogue was one of Suriname’s real gems. It was a pity, however, that many rich Jews had left or now lived elsewhere on plantations, whereby Joden-Savanna had gone into steep decline and was inhabited mainly by the elderly such as her grandmother and Aunt Rachel’s parents.

Near the synagogue was the great tabernacle. A little further along the valley a few smaller huts had been built by men who appreciated having their own tabernacle.

Once the service had finished, everyone left the synagogue and went to sit on benches at long tables that had been set up in the hut. This was the high point of the Feast of Tabernacles. Three huge, round loaves, baked specially for the occasion, lay on the table. The rabbi said a prayer, broke the bread and distributed it among those present, after which the wine was poured and distributed.