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OCTOBER 29, 2015 | The Jewish Home
THE BALTIMORE JEWISH HOME
MAY 20, 2021
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Under the Chuppah at Last
By Rafi Sackville
B A LT I M O R E J E W I S H H O M E . C O M
Rav
Meir Sayag radiates warmth and peacefulness. In his role as chief rabbi of Ma’alot, he approaches halachic predicaments with a hearty dose of pragmatism. One Wednesday evening, after his weekly parsha shiur, he requested a minyan of men to meet him in his office at 9 p.m. where, he informed us, he would officiate a chuppah. As I walked into the rabbi’s office, I heard what sounded like a cacophony of schoolgirl laughter coming from the conference room. The rav was in serious discussion with an elderly couple. Eli, who runs the office, sidled up to me and nodded in their direction. “They’re getting married,” he whispered. “Again!” The “young couple” was Avraham and Zumrot Avramov. Married once in Azerbaijan in 1980, the country of their birth, they were ready to renew their vows to each other, here in Ma’alot where they have lived for over twenty years. The rav gathered the pages before him. He was ready. He invited those gathered into the conference room. Avraham turned pale when he looked up to see the small army of unfamiliar faces. We gathered around the chuppah.
The rav picked up a bottle of grape juice from the table and began the ceremony. Under the chuppah, the Avramovs looked even more unsettled. It was as if they’d been caught under searchlights in the middle of noman’s land. I felt sorry for them. That is, until I glanced across at their daughters in the corner. Ranging in age from their mid-20s to late 30s, they were still laughing among themselves watching their parents under the chuppah. After the ceremony, Leah, the Avramov’s second daughter, told us that their sister Sharona couldn’t make the chuppah, which was ironical because they were there only because of her. “She walked into a beit din in Jerusalem during the initial days of Covid-19 and had been flatly refused a wedding license,” Leah said. Wanting to learn more about their parents’ journey, I dropped in to see the newlyweds a week later. Along with their daughters Leah and Tamar, they welcomed us with fruit juice and cookies. Unlike their angst at the chuppah, Avraham and Zumrot were cheerful, expressive, and relaxed. Zumrot was born in the mountain region of Quba, Azerbaijan, home to
one of the largest concentrations of Jews in the region. At the time of her birth in 1956, Quba had a population of over 4,000 Jews. The oldest remains of a Jewish presence there dates back to the 7th century. The name Zumrot, or emerald in English, is Turkish in origin, which is the predominant language in that part of Azerbaijan and the surrounding area. After the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917, Russian was also adopted as the language, more out of necessity than desire. The Avramovs speak Turkish at home. Their daughters understand the language, but don’t speak it. The traditional Jewish way of life in Azerbaijan was severely hindered after the Revolution. The imposition of Sovietization culminated in the restriction of cultural activities for minorities. Jewish customs that had been carried out for centuries in Lashon HaKodesh could only be continued clandestinely, if at all. With Soviet eyes and ears everywhere, this was not easy. It was under such a political backdrop that Jewish weddings became precariously dangerous to hold. Despite these restrictions, the Jews of Quba remained a well-organized community. One of the influences of the Russian Revolution
(possibly in reaction to it) was the creation of different Zionist groups. Beginning in the 1920s, these groups were vital in promoting Aliyah to Israel. Although Communism slowed down the number of Jews emigrating to Israel, there was a renewal of movement almost half a century later during the 1970s. It was not uncommon for immigrants making Aliyah from behind the Iron Curtain to do so not by choice, but for lack of it. No one would stop and ask an Azerbaijani or an immigrant from Chernobyl in Ukraine why he or she left the country of their birth; the answer is generally understood. Zumrot’s eyes glaze over as she describes her childhood. Her memories are intense and filled with longing. After 30 years in Israel, she maintains a close affinity to her birthplace. Despite the large Jewish population of her youth, there was no Jewish school in Quba, so she and the other Jewish children attended Muslim schools. Home life, however, was full of traditional Jewish life and customs. She describes in detail how family and neighbors would gather before Shabbatot and chagim when the local shochet would slaughter enough
