Estherv& Yachiel - A Love Story

Esther & Yahiel

A Love Story

Esther and Yachiel are my maternal grandparents. My mother used to tell us a little about their lives, especially about the reciprocal love with her father, who used to 

carry her on his shoulders while touring the seaside of Izmir.

What follows is the fruit of my imagination

The story begins at the time of the Spanish Inquisition, fisherman from one of the Greek island called Ikaria or Icare discover a group of men, women and children dressed in rags early morning in freezing cold. A ghost ship sails towards the horizon

The fishermen and the refugees look at each other, they speak different languages, the newcomers hold out their hands, the others help and direct them towards the village. They carry few belongings, a few cooking utensils, chandeliers, few jewels which are family heirlooms, a few prayer books, basics of life while running away towards this island which is part of the Ottoman Empire.

This is how my family’s saga starts.

A new community is born on the island. The locals Greek Orthodox, the newcomers Sephardi Jews.

The head of the newcomers is Abraham, tall and white haired with piercing green eyes. He abandoned his fragile hearted wife Rebecca into the deep Mediterranean Sea while murmuring the Kaddish.

Life takes shape slowly. Spanish language adopts Greek words, Shabbat candles and Sundays at church are both respected. A community arise, poor but proud.

At the village school Greek is studied, at home the father reads the Torah.

Towards the end of the 18th Century, Moche, one of Abraham’s descendants marries Mary. They have two sons, Yachiel and Abraham. Yachiel , the eldest, is fire like red haired with piercing green eyes like his ancestor, different races fighting within his body. His mother crosses herself, his father prays in a language he doesn’t recognize.

He suffocates on this island. At 15 he works at the bakery, he loves the scent of bread, his eyes set on the horizon, he would like to escape. Abraham, the young one, is docile and helps his father at the carpentry shop.

One moonless night he packs a few belongings and some bread and walks towards the port.

He walks around and boards discretely one of the Ottoman Empire’s boat. Hidden in a dark corner, emotions and sleep soon carry him a away.

A kick in the groin, shouts wake him at sunrise, fear grips his insides, tears blur his 
vision. The Turkish soldier grabs his ear and pulls him up.

The soldiers observe him, talk to him, make fun of his red hair. He already misses his island. They bring him some bread and bitter black coffee. They seem rather nice.

At night the boat approaches a port, during a moment of confusion, he manages to disembark. He walks the dark streets for a long time and finally falls asleep near a bakery’s door.

 Izmir. He has arrived at his destination.

Esther is 15, only daughter of a Sephardi family living in a village near Izmir. Ester is beautiful, tall for a woman of that times, with huge blue eyes and rebellious corn coloured hair.

These are times when sweet and docile women are loved.

Esther has a fierce temperament, she is impulsive, hardworking, demanding of herself and her entourage, she is not easy to live with, her parents think she will never be able to find a husband.

She has fights with her mother about everything, their personalities being exactly the same.

Often she joins her father to Izmir’s market to get away from home and enjoy some quality time with the father she adores.

The market makes her feel alive, the scents, colours, the merchants loud calls are all a feast or her, the smell of homemade food cooked by the villagers are tempting but she would never dare to eat non-kosher near her dad.

Most of all she likes to observe the handsome young man working the bread dough that baked fills the bakery with delicious aroma. He doesn’t look at her.

That day, the last customer is at the bakery, he looks up for the first time on losses himself in the blue of her eyes, it’s the lightening, it’s the end of the world, the moon changes its course, the stars clash.

Speedy wedding, 3 kids, 2 boys and my mother Rebecca.

 They move to Izmir, working at the bakery. At night Rebecca snuggles in his arms and breathes in the smell of the pastries he bakes.

He dies of Peritonitis at the age of 32, Ester will wear her mourning clothes until her last days.

My mother Rebecca with the huge blue eyes and I who imagine...