Page 58 - issue
P. 58
Exodus
studying speech language pathology and audiology at Towson
University. “The culture means a lot to me. It is a big part of
who I am,” says Rivkah. “I’m glad I grew up being exposed to
it.” She feels that Bais Yaakov aided a lot in integrating the
Persian community and exposing all cultures to each other.
“I loved having a school for all the girls together,” she says. “I
think they did a wonderful job creating a warm atmosphere
for both the Ashkenazi and Sefardi girls. For example, Rabbi
Emanuel Goldfeiz, the halacha teacher, always taught Sefardi
and Ashkenazi halacha, catering to our needs. It creates a lot
of unity among Jews in Baltimore. If I hadn’t gone to Bais
Yaakov, I wouldn’t have many of the friends I do now, and I
wouldn’t necessarily have been as open-minded about the way
others live their lives.”
Regarding marriage, Rivkah notes that some Persians marry
Ashkenazim or different types of Sefardim. “Although no one
knows what the future holds,” she says, “I would try to go to-
wards somebody from a similar culture.” She would love for any
future children to be able to at least understand Farsi since “it’s
such a profound language and has a lot of meaning for me.”
Rivkah also thinks that it is also always good to know more
languages. Actually, her father, Shmuel Nakhon, who runs Pro-
fessional Tax Preparers, LLC, and works for Baltimore City, was
once able to use his Farsi skills on the job. There was a court
case involving an Iranian who did not speak English. Since they
knew her father spoke Farsi, they asked him to come to court
to translate.
Rivkah remembers her parents speaking about having the
ability to visit the tombs of Mordechai and Esther in Hama-
dan, although it is an 18-hour drive from Shiraz, so people did
not go there very often. (You can view a video of this place on
YouTube.) Rivkah would love to visit Shiraz and see the places
where her parents grew up. She finds, however, that the de-
sire to return to Iran varies among members of the community.
Some people have only pleasant memories, and want to return,
and some who lived through the harsh conditions of the revolu-
tionary times have no desire to go back. “It’s really all a matter
of preference of the individual. It would be hard to say about
anyone for sure.”
uuu
David Koshkarman was smuggled out of Iran in 1988. Life be-
fore he left was not all bad, he says. “Monetarily, we had a very
good life in Iran, but the anti-Semitism was the part that made
everybody suffer. I had non-Jewish neighbors who didn’t want
to play with me because I was Jewish. One had a swimming
pool. He would call all his non-Jewish friends to come over but
did not call me, because I would have made the water ‘tamei’
(impure).”
Sixteen at the time of his escape, Mr. Koshkarman was able
to cross the border to Pakistan with his uncle. It took them five
days to arrive in Karachi. By that time, there was already a “ho-
tel” set up for refugees fleeing Iran. It was not exactly five-star,
50 u www.wherewhatwhen.com u
studying speech language pathology and audiology at Towson
University. “The culture means a lot to me. It is a big part of
who I am,” says Rivkah. “I’m glad I grew up being exposed to
it.” She feels that Bais Yaakov aided a lot in integrating the
Persian community and exposing all cultures to each other.
“I loved having a school for all the girls together,” she says. “I
think they did a wonderful job creating a warm atmosphere
for both the Ashkenazi and Sefardi girls. For example, Rabbi
Emanuel Goldfeiz, the halacha teacher, always taught Sefardi
and Ashkenazi halacha, catering to our needs. It creates a lot
of unity among Jews in Baltimore. If I hadn’t gone to Bais
Yaakov, I wouldn’t have many of the friends I do now, and I
wouldn’t necessarily have been as open-minded about the way
others live their lives.”
Regarding marriage, Rivkah notes that some Persians marry
Ashkenazim or different types of Sefardim. “Although no one
knows what the future holds,” she says, “I would try to go to-
wards somebody from a similar culture.” She would love for any
future children to be able to at least understand Farsi since “it’s
such a profound language and has a lot of meaning for me.”
Rivkah also thinks that it is also always good to know more
languages. Actually, her father, Shmuel Nakhon, who runs Pro-
fessional Tax Preparers, LLC, and works for Baltimore City, was
once able to use his Farsi skills on the job. There was a court
case involving an Iranian who did not speak English. Since they
knew her father spoke Farsi, they asked him to come to court
to translate.
Rivkah remembers her parents speaking about having the
ability to visit the tombs of Mordechai and Esther in Hama-
dan, although it is an 18-hour drive from Shiraz, so people did
not go there very often. (You can view a video of this place on
YouTube.) Rivkah would love to visit Shiraz and see the places
where her parents grew up. She finds, however, that the de-
sire to return to Iran varies among members of the community.
Some people have only pleasant memories, and want to return,
and some who lived through the harsh conditions of the revolu-
tionary times have no desire to go back. “It’s really all a matter
of preference of the individual. It would be hard to say about
anyone for sure.”
uuu
David Koshkarman was smuggled out of Iran in 1988. Life be-
fore he left was not all bad, he says. “Monetarily, we had a very
good life in Iran, but the anti-Semitism was the part that made
everybody suffer. I had non-Jewish neighbors who didn’t want
to play with me because I was Jewish. One had a swimming
pool. He would call all his non-Jewish friends to come over but
did not call me, because I would have made the water ‘tamei’
(impure).”
Sixteen at the time of his escape, Mr. Koshkarman was able
to cross the border to Pakistan with his uncle. It took them five
days to arrive in Karachi. By that time, there was already a “ho-
tel” set up for refugees fleeing Iran. It was not exactly five-star,
50 u www.wherewhatwhen.com u
