Our Jewish history tour started (and ended) with a visit to a synagogue. We pulled up to Beit Bela, a beautiful glass and concrete structure in a tree-lined neighborhood not far from Tallinn Old Town.
Beit Bela Synagogue, also known as Tallinn Synagogue (Tallinna Sünagoog), is one of two synagogues, our guide told us, in all of Estonia. The other was in Tartu. That was before back-to-back dreadful periods Estonia had to endure. First was the time of Soviet rule. When the Soviets came to power, all religion was verboten within Russia, which Estonia was part of until they declared their independence in 1991. Next came the Nazi invasion. Both of the synagogues were bombed during World War II by the Nazis (who else).
Beit Bela is the first synagogue in Estonia to reopen after the war. Rebuilt using private funds, it opened six years ago in 2007.
As we entered the synagogue, the men were issued yarmulkes. I guess this was to satisfy the requirement that for men in Orthodox Jewish communities, the head must always be covered. For all non-Orthodox Jewish men, a yarmulke is worn during prayer.
I wear my hair very short, almost bald. The yarmulke, therefore, had nothing to hold onto. I learned from Orthodox Jewish children way back in elementary school that a yarmulke must not touch the floor. If it does, it must be kissed and dusted off before returning it to the head. I’m not sure if this practice is still observed, but I tried my hardest to make sure my yarmulke did not fall on the floor. Because of my very short hairstyle, occasionally when I turned my head too fast or leaned back too far, the yarmulke did slide off my head. This happened probably a half dozen times. Thank goodness I was able to catch it every time.
The synagogue’s rabbi told us about the church and how some of the services are conducted. Following his talk, he guided us up the stairs and into the synagogue’s library. In the ‘stacks’ were lots of interesting books. Walking through the aisles, I looked at the title of the books. Some of them looked very interesting. Most of the ones that caught my eye were history books from a Jewish perspective. There were some religious books as well. I would like to read a few of them.
After completing my stroll through all of the aisles, I sat down in one of the chairs to rest. Three other older gentlemen also sat down. One of them started to nod off. In my opinion, we stayed in the library waaaay too long. Admittedly, I became bored. After another half hour, mercifully, we were led into a small hall where we were given some refreshments.
Again, we remained here too long, our refreshments long since finished. There was nothing else we were able to see inside the synagogue. So we sat and/or milled about the room. And waited. And waited.
Judenfrei
As we exited the synagogue, our guide explained that sometime during the early years of World War II, the entire country of Estonia was declared “Judenfrei” by the Nazis. Judenfrei. Meaning ‘free of Jews’ or ‘Jew free’. Imagine. An entire country being pronounced rid of an entire people. Was this done by forcing them out or wiping them out? Probably both. Some Jews did manage escape to Russia before the Germans arrived, though. Keep in mind that the Jewish community in Estonia was small to begin with.
When the impact of the word, ‘Judenfrei’ hit me, I realized I was standing in a community that was virtually eliminated during the Holocaust. This was carried out intentionally and deliberately by other human beings. Though the community is trying to rebuild itself, the specter of being Judenfrei still hovers over it.
Outside, the rabbi told us that Tallinn has a small but strong community. However, as the Jewish population ages and passes on, the youth are not stepping up to take up the mantle. That concerns me, makes me wonder what will happen to this synagogue’s congregants – and Estonian Jewry in general – within the next few generations.
We’re going to put you to sleep now
After we left the synagogue, we boarded the bus for a tour of the city. My cold began to assert itself. My body seemed to tell my mind, “You’re sitting in a nice, comfortable tour bus now. You are not actively doing anything other than trying to keep your eyes from closing. We’re going to put you to sleep now.” I would love to tell you more about this part of the trip. I would like to know more myself. But I succumbed to the command of my body; I fell asleep. Not even the excitement of being in a new country could keep me awake.
When I woke up, we were in the heart of a modern city. The sun had even broken through the clouds. We were passing by cafés and hotels. Steel and glass skyscrapers. Computer and other high-tech companies. I wondered, “Where are we? How long have I been asleep? What did I miss?”
Less than five minutes later, my first question was answered as we neared the port.
When we arrived back at the port, I considered talking a short walk on my own. Instead, we went shopping at the port’s marketplace right at the end of the pier. The souvenirs in the shops here are of very high quality.
The highlight of the trip happened in one of these shops: The proprietor was speaking to us but I think she was speaking Estonian. She spoke no English and I know absolutely no Estonian. Out of frustration, I said, in Russian, “Sorry, I don’t speak Russian.” (I love it when you learn words in another language and get to use those words when you travel.) Her eyes lit up and with a huge smile she responded with a torrent of words in Russian. I can’t explain it but it was if I was hearing her in English. That was an interaction I will never forget.
Though we had established a rapport now, the rest of our communication was accomplished with her speaking and me using a lot of hand gestures and pointing. My wife and I bought several nice items from her. Though I was still not feeling all that well, this encounter really lifted my spirits. A very nice way to end our time here in Tallinn.
Photo credit: My wife
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