There is a Hebrew word — Neshama — that literally translates to “soul”. But in Jewish faith, it also refers to our spirit, applied to how like finds like, and how we are all deeply connected by forces we cannot see.
This neshama was never made clearer to me as Jeff and I took a turn down a laneway on the island of Curaçao last week. We were exploring the areas away from the souvenir shops and bars and designer labels. We passed by a man standing at a construction site and all Jeff said was “Hello”. As I kept walking, there were some more words exchanged about the weather (it’s always a good day on an island) and life (what a great way to live) and I stopped walking. I turned back and that’s when I realized the man had tzitzit — the tassels that Orthodox Jews hang from their clothing.
Mishpacha! I exclaimed, walking back to where he and Jeff stood. I called him family, because that’s what Jews do when we find each other. And nowadays, it’s even more important that we bond with any jew we meet.
Our new friend, Michael, reminded me that it was neshama that brought us down this lane on this day at this time. As we talked about the state of Jews around the globe, he told us he was born on Curaçao, where about 200 Jews still live. He shared that Curaçao is home to the longest running synagogue in the western hemisphere. Mikvé Israel-Emanuel Synagogue has been holding services since 1730.
We had no idea this building and this community even existed on this island. It shouldn’t have surprised me, though. The Jewish diaspora is widespread. Wherever we go, we can find Jews, or Jewish history, or a Jewish connection. The Jews of Curaçao were fleeing the Spanish inquisition and made the island—and others in the Caribbean—their home since the 1600s.
It was Neshama that brought us to Michael, but this spirit was already at play in the background in a way I could never have fathomed.
A couple of days earlier, I had posted on Facebook about being on a cruise ship heading for Curaçao, and a short while later, I got a message from a friend that she is on a cruise too - Holland America’s Rotterdam - also heading for Curaçao. We were on different itineraries, and they would be gone from Curaçao by the time we got there.
This woman, Terry, was my best friend when I worked and lived in Niagara Falls. She was my anchor in a town where I knew nobody. She welcomed my friendship and we hung out every Thursday night, our mutual night off from the casino where we worked in the same department, watching NBC’s lineup. Friends. Seinfeld. ER. We sat on my scratchy Sante Fe patterned sofa with chips and Swedish berries between us. Every Thursday night for almost two years. And then I sent her away for good.
Terry was a teacher, and like most of working in the foreign exchange department at the casino, had her university degrees, and no job to go to. I was reconciling the death of my barely-started journalism career with the need to pay my student loans, but I never gave up reading the newspaper. One day, I spotted an ad for a school district in North Carolina looking for special education teachers. This was Terry’s area of specialty. I cut out the ad and brought it to work later that day. She had the interview, got the job, and moved to North Carolina in what felt like a whirlwind. She met and married her husband there, and I was at the wedding. When she came home to visit her parents in Canada, we would hang out at their family cottage. We maintained the ties, the way you do with anyone who moves away. In touch, but out of touch at the same time.
I completely lost my breath when, once our ship docked in Aruba, I saw the Rotterdam at the pier in front of us. Neshama shining its bright light once again.
Terry and I messaged back and forth for the day, around our tours and plans. When I tell you I turned on my cell data to work on a plan to see each other, that should tell you how important she is to me. We made it happen. The last time I saw Terry, I was pregnant with our first child, who is about to turn 20.
I swear, I have never hugged another woman so hard. We stood on the walkway between our ships, chatting as if no time had passed. Jeff had never met Terry’s husband, Douglas, and they had their own conversation while Terry and I caught up.
Neshama was funnin with me, teasing me with the idea of being so close to a best friend, literally two ships passing in the night. She dangled the carrot and then delivered with such a bang, allowing Terry and I to connect on an island thousands of kilometres away from our homes.
While Neshama brought us together, she also reminded us to not let another 20 years pass without seeing the people who matter to you. Soul to soul.
Xo Dana
Love you to bits, Terry.
Beauty! Nothing like dear friends!!
Love this, Dana! Thank you for sharing these special words and even more special moments. 💛