The Other Half of My Soul (2 page)

Approaching the entrance to the airport, they encountered several checkpoints and were instructed on where to park. Emerging from their vehicles, the large band traipsed across the parking lot toward the British Airways terminal. Security police kept the group at bay while Rami checked in and got his boarding pass.

* * *

With a twinkle in his large brown eyes, Rami flashed his charismatic smile and asked the officers if it would be okay to say goodbye to each of his family members who had come all the way from Halab to see him off. After closely scrutinizing the group, one of the guards stepped back and nodded approvingly.

“Okay everyone, listen, this is as far as you can go.” Quickly, Rami bid farewell to each relative. At the end of the line stood his own family.
We never had much money, but there was always an abundance of love to go around
. “I will miss all of you,” he said to his sisters. “I plan to come back for each of your weddings. Take care of Imee and Eby. Be strong for them. They will need you.” Rami’s eyes welled and he swallowed back his sadness.

Reaching out to Salha, Rami already felt a sense of loss. “Allah could not have blessed me with a more special mother. Thank you for loving me and for teaching me how to love.” Rami made a gentle fist and lightly tapped at his heart. “Imee, this place is for you. I will not be gone forever. I will be back soon.”

With tears running down her cheeks, Salha reached out. “Rami, give me your word. You will keep away from American girls. And be careful of the Jews. America is full of them. Remember who you are. A Muslim. A Shi’ite Muslim. Allah maak.”

Rami and his father searched one another’s faces. “
Salaam
.”

two

I am my beloved’s and his desire is for me.

—Solomon: The Song of Songs 7:11

August 1996—Brooklyn, New York

Tomorrow, Rayna Mishan would be moving out. It had been a long struggle. Coming from a Sephardic Jewish home that was steeped in orthodox religion and Syrian culture, it was taboo for a girl to leave home and go away to school.

“If you want to go to college, there are plenty of good schools right here in New York,” her parents had argued. “And if you want to pursue journalism, what better school than Columbia University?” It was a point Rayna found hard to dispute. However, she was determined to have her way. Rayna would attend the University of Maryland at College Park, located just outside Washington, D.C.

* * *

Rayna was the youngest child and only daughter of Abe and Sarah Mishan. Abe was known to be overly protective of his daughter. He also showered her with frivolous gifts. Sarah, although not warm and affectionate, kept Rayna dressed in expensive clothes and made sure she had the best that money could buy. Growing up in a home with four older brothers, Rayna was both teased and pampered. The Mishans lived in a richly decorated six-bedroom house in an upscale neighborhood on Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn. It was a perfect location for them because their grandly appointed synagogue, where they were active members and big donors, was just across the wide boulevard.

Anchored in a strongly connected and deeply religious Syrian-Jewish community, the Mishans owned an even grander house at the shore in Deal, New Jersey, where they spent their summers with the other Syrian Jews. Passover holidays were celebrated in the Catskill Mountains with their large extended family.

Abe ran a successful lighting supply business with retail stores in nine states. Additionally, he owned vast amounts of valuable real estate. As Rayna’s four brothers each came of age, Abe took them into the firm. Well entrenched in the Syrian community, the wealthy Mishan family was respected and admired for their kindness, generosity, and
tzedakah
.

With a population exceeding fifty thousand, the Syrian Jews made it their concern to know everyone in the community—or at least to know of someone’s family, or to know of someone who knew someone. Gossip and judgments made the rounds. The rabbis and the religious and social rules defined their existence. Betrothals were made on the condition of parental approval, and it was taboo to marry outside the group. Sons and daughters lived under their parents’ roof until they were wed. Girls were socialized to marry young, choose financially secure husbands, have many children, keep immaculate homes, and be superb cooks.

From kindergarten through twelfth grade, Rayna attended
yeshiva
, a Jewish day school. She was an eager and bright student. Although secular subjects mandated by the state were an integral part of the curriculum, learning Hebrew and religion were paramount.

In tenth grade, Rayna had begun to rebel. “I have my whole life to be married, to cook, and to have children. I want to do other things first. I want to go to college. I want to know the world. I want to have a career in journalism. I want to write. I don’t want to have a husband before the age of twenty. And I certainly don’t want to be stuck here in Brooklyn.”

By eleventh grade, her protests grew stronger. “I hate how money and materialism dominate our way of life. I hate how our strict adherence to religious practices rules us. There are times I feel like I can’t breathe, it’s so stifling. And I hate how a man is measured by the amount of money he has or doesn’t have, and a woman is measured by her beauty or lack of it. We are no better than the rest of the sanctimonious world.”

* * *

Infuriated over her daughter’s insistence to leave home and go away to college, Sarah tried to reason. “Syrian girls don’t do these things. This is not how you were raised. This is not our way. Do you know what this will do to us? Is that what you want, to subject us to harsh disapproval in the community? For God’s sake, Rayna, I just don’t know where you’re getting these crazy ideas. Use your head! You’re smart and beautiful. You come from a wealthy, respected family. You’re a good catch. Men are lined up. You can have your pick. What in the world is wrong with you?”

To calm the situation between mother and daughter, Abe offered a compromise. “You can go to any college within daily commuting distance from home. New York City has the finest schools in the country and Columbia University . . .”

“No!” Rayna objected. “We’ve already been through the Columbia University bit enough times. I’m sick of it. I’m going away . . . somewhere. If you think you can keep me here, it won’t work. If you threaten
not
to pay my way, I’ll make it on my own.” There was nothing her parents could say or do to change Rayna’s mind.

“Well, then find a school that’s near. No more than four hours away,” Abe conceded, much to the dismay of Sarah.

So, after an exhaustive search of colleges within a four-hour radius, Rayna found one that met both her own and her father’s approval. The University of Maryland at College Park had a sizable Jewish population, a good journalism school, and a Hillel on campus where Rayna could have her kosher meals and attend weekly
shabbat
services.

Still, her mother remained relentless. “It’s not the same. Those Jews are
J-Dubbs
. Ashkenazie Jews. They’re not our kind. We’re Middle Eastern. They’re European. They pray differently. They celebrate differently. They eat differently. And they believe differently. Their history and culture are not ours. They are not Sephardic. Your place is here. I want to see you get married and have children . . . and be with us!” In exasperation, Sarah threw her hands up, trying to control the urge to slap Rayna across the face. “What do you mean you’ll go to Hillel for the holidays? My daughter will come home for the holidays.”

* * *

The night before departure, Rayna was filled with anxiety and could not sleep. She fretted about the freshman rules requiring all first-year students to live on campus without a car, and she agonized over surviving in a large co-ed dorm. However, Rayna was grateful to her father for the generous donation to the college, which secured her a private room with her own private bath.

* * *

Early the next morning, while her parents leisurely ate breakfast, Rayna paced the large modern kitchen, huffing impatiently and unable to eat. “How much longer? I’m ready whenever you are. So, how much longer?”

Abe’s misgivings surfaced. He smoothed his hand along Rayna’s arm in a final effort to dissuade her. “Do you know how much we love you? Do you have any idea what this is doing to us? It’s tearing us apart. Is there anything you want that we haven’t given to you? Rayna, I beg you to rethink what you’re about to do. It’s not too late to stop it.”

“No, Daddy. Let’s not rehash this again. I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” Rayna put her arms around her father’s neck and kissed his cheek. “I wish you could understand that I’m not doing this to hurt either one of you. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been the best parents you know how to be, living in these circumstances.”

Visibly fuming, Sarah’s voice was at high pitch, “Excuse me young lady. Just what do you mean by ‘living in these circumstances’?”

“Mom, would you please let me finish!”

“No! We’ve heard enough. I never had such heartache from your brothers. I wish I had stopped after them. It would have spared me the aggravation I get from you. I didn’t even want a fifth child. It was your father who . . .” Sarah’s voice trailed off when Abe gave her a stern look.

Rayna’s stomach wrenched. Tears welled and she turned away, not allowing herself to cry. Deep down, she always knew that her mother favored her four brothers over her. “I’m not bad.”

With his frustration showing, Abe reached for Rayna’s large suitcase. “In this one thing . . . this one big thing, you’ve gone against our wishes and our ways. But since you’re now eighteen, we cannot legally stop you, can we?” Abe let out a long exasperated sigh. “You know, nowhere will you find a community like ours. Nowhere! We take care of our own. Good care! We pull together in hard times. Syrian Jews are good people. Why don’t you look at all the positive instead of focusing so much on the negative?”

“Dad, I’m not leaving our community. I’m just going away to study journalism. I . . .”

“What’s the use in talking anymore? Come on and help me get your stuff into the car. Your mother made some sandwiches and drinks to take with us. They’re in the cooler.”

* * *

Rayna climbed into the back seat of the blue Lexus. Sarah sat in the front passenger seat and stewed. Abe backed out of the garage and down the narrow driveway onto Ocean Parkway. Soon, the car crossed the Verrazano Bridge and headed south onto the New Jersey Turnpike. For three hours a deafening silence filled the vehicle.

As they approached Baltimore, Sarah turned around, “Rayna, would you mind getting some sandwiches and drinks out of the cooler?” She glanced at her husband, “Abraham, there’s a rest stop in two miles. Let’s pull off so we can eat and go to the bathroom.” Always, when Sarah was angry, she addressed her husband by his full name—Abraham.

“Mom, we’re so close, just another hour. Let’s just get there. We can eat in the car. Daddy, do you mind?”

Abe said nothing and drove past the rest stop. In silence, Sarah simmered, furious over Rayna getting her way. At two-thirty, they drove onto the campus of the University of Maryland.

* * *

Abe, Sarah, and Rayna unloaded the vehicle, making several trips up to the dorm room. Abe then hooked up Rayna’s computer and stereo while Sarah stoically helped her daughter unpack and get settled.

Regretting the past several hours, Rayna made an effort to show her appreciation. With her self-esteem much diminished, she moved closer to Sarah, reaching out to hug the woman. Sarah put her hand up, repulsing Rayna’s advance.

* * *

By early evening, the three went to Hillel to eat. It was a place where they could keep to their strict kosher dietary laws. “You’ll be very careful about eating only kosher food, won’t you, Rayna?” Sarah admonished over dinner.

“Yes, Mom. No meat unless it’s kosher. No pork. No seafood. No mixing meat and dairy.” The tension between mother and daughter heightened. “I’ve been doing this all my life. For God’s sake, Mom, I’m not going off to Mars. I’m going off to get a degree in journalism. I’m not straying from my religion. I’ll eat at Hillel. Puhleeze give me some credit for knowing what to do, thank you very much.”

After dinner, Abe and Sarah walked Rayna back to her dorm, then checked into the Rossborough Inn on campus.

* * *

In the morning, the three met for breakfast, then strolled around the grounds. The oppressive heat and high humidity of the Washington summer were in full bloom. In contrast, the atmosphere surrounding Rayna and her parents was frigid.

“Well, it certainly appears that Rayna has a full week ahead and we have far better things to do than hang around here. It’s best we take off now while we can still avoid the rush-hour traffic of later in the day. Wouldn’t you agree, Abraham?”

Subdued, the three walked back to the car. Awkwardly, they faced each other. Abe took his daughter’s hand. Sarah remained aloof, standing to the side, almost as a spectator.

“Rayna, your mother and I want some binding promises from you.”

Won’t they ever quit telling me what to do?
“What is it, Daddy?”

“First, promise that you’ll remain a virgin until your wedding night.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Rayna!”

“Yes, Daddy, okay.”

“If you must date, he is to be Jewish. Sephardic, like us.”

“Can’t he just be Jewish? What if he’s a religious J-Dubb? Is that okay?”

“Rayna, don’t push your luck. And you’re not to . . . you know . . . sex . . . you know . . . sleep with any of them. None of them! Do you understand?”

“I understand. Our family has a reputation to uphold.” At this point, Rayna could no longer hide the look of disgust on her face.

“You will continue to observe shabbat and come home for the holidays, especially Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Passover . . . and get rid of that hateful look on your face.”

Rayna clenched her teeth and blew out a full breath from her pursed lips. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s not good enough. You must promise.”

“I’ll do my best, Dad. What if I have classes or exams?”

Sarah let out a shrill sound.

“Okay, okay . . .”

“And keep to your own kind. Remember, you’re a Jew. A Syrian Jew.”

Rayna kept silent.

“I doubt there are any Syrians here, but if you find one . . .”

“I know, Dad, I know.” Rayna frowned. The forced goodbye hugs from her parents made her feel like they were all on their way to a death march. When Abe and Sarah drove off, Rayna breathed a sigh of relief and fought the depression tugging at her.

* * *

In a somber state, Rayna spent the next two days settling in. She registered for classes, purchased books, opened a bank account, and acclimated herself to the surroundings. Deciding to graduate in three years instead of the normal four, Rayna resolved to cram extra classes into her schedule and attend summer sessions to speed up her ascent to graduation.

At Hillel, Rayna met several Ashkenazie Jewish students from her dorm. They all agreed to walk together, going to and coming from their evening meals. One of the Jewish students was named Jonathan. He lived near her in Brooklyn and eagerly offered to give her rides home.