WALKING IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

The "Bom Fim"neighborhood

I see many elderly people walking in the streets of "Bom Fim", the renowned Jewish neghborhood where I live in Southern Brazil. Some are in their 80's, other already in their 90's. Some walk alone, others with their caregivers or their family members. Most of them have been living here for over 50 years. Not all of them are Jewish. But each of them carry a particular set of memories, a history. I don't see them as old, but as bearers of a past that doesn't exist anymore. They remember a type of childhood that will be forgotten. They hold a specific kind of life that is gone. 

As time passes, these groups of people will disappear, and the next one will arrive. Historical events will build up one on top of another, and we will have even more things to remember. History will inevitably be extended, information expanded - so things will make sense.

For now I enjoy watching the elders. They remind me of something familiar, like relatives I don't have anymore. It makes me feel at home. And sometime in the future I might be one of them, and I might enjoy watching youngsters, knowing I was one years ago.

BACK IN THE JEWISH NEIGHBORHOOD

I was born in Bom Fim, the Jewish neighborhood in Porto Alegre, where my grandparents, their families and friends settled, where all synagogues, Jewish clubs and restaurants were and still are. I remember my first memories of Judaism: walking back home from a festivity in the shul at night with my dad, with an Israeli flag, a candied apple and a bag full of sweets. I didn't understand it, but loved it. What kid wouldn't love some sweets?

I remember very little as we moved to a different neighborhood when I was 3.

35 years later I'm living in Bom Fim again. It is different, but I still see familiar faces of old people who once pinched my cheeks as a little boy. I'm too shy to come close and say "I know you, but I don't know your name and you probably won't remember me". But these old familiar faces make me feel at home.