Portfolio :ochocandelas.com

PORTFOLIO: A VISUAL DESCRIPTION

Ocho Candelas opens with a weathered Star of David, standing silently in a Crypto-Jewish cemetery. The corners of it have been eroded by time. This haunting image starts a journey that weaves together the tales, stories, and faces of eight families from Veracruz who converted to Judaism. Mexico’s magic provides a fascinating frame to their sad, yet often beautiful stories of faith, devotion, and commitment.

Credits roll over images of Veracruz. The traditional Mexican plaza, the marimba players, and the old, decadent boats that have witnessed the transformation of this city over centuries, drift calmly over the recurrent lullaby of this documentary: the ocean.

“When they first came to me, I said what do you need it for?”

Rabbi Samuel S. Lerer stands in front of a Christmas tree in the lobby of the Emporio Hotel, one of the oldest in Veracruz, right across from the busy seaport. The lights of the tree flicker, reminding us that this is one of the most Catholic countries in the world, and yet, Rabbi Lerer tells us the story of the first time he got a phone call from the people who wanted to be converted to Judaism. Twenty years later, these are the same people sitting right across from him.

“And I cried, because it made me proud to finally belong

to this fantastic group.”

Maria José Muñoz, a typical Mexican woman and head of her family, sits on the couch of her living room with her husband Sergio. They seem to be a match made in heaven, filling the space of their couch proudly. Their tears and stories about what it has meant for them to become Jewish and their pride in having given Judaism to their three children are highlighted by the noises of turkeys, chickens, birds, cats and dogs that roam their small property just by the river. Their three children sit close by to listen to their parents’ stories. The older child tells us of how they use the foliage of the gigantic palm trees surrounding the house, to build the Sukkah in the Temple.

A handcrafted balcony. The lapping, blue sea. Children playing soccer in the sand. A sunset behind a lighthouse. Sea gulls on rusty ships. The beautiful images of Mexico are intercut between their stories, a constant reminder of the visually stunning flavor of this country. Bright colors and lived-in faces complement this seaside town to give this film a unique, vivid look.

“And when I saw them pray I realized nobody prays

like that anywhere else.”

Sarita Cohen, a beautifully aged Argentinean Jew who arrived to Veracruz ten years ago, sits in her fire-red, tiled backyard. Ceiling fans whirl dangerously low in the beautiful home filled with Sarita’s handmade decorations. She tells us, in her fast paced Spanish, how becoming a member of the community of converts restored her faith in Judaism.

“I want to come back from Israel and be the Rabbi of my own synagogue.”

Daniel Andrade sits on a bench in the middle of a small public park. He is eighteen-years-old and receives curious looks from the people strolling in the background as to why he wears a kippah. He tells us of his desire to become a Rabbi, and to lead the community of Beth Shmuel into the future, although he promptly adds: “I will not be an Orthodox.”

In addition to the eight families, we also meet another individual, Mauricio Lulka. As president of the Comité Central Israelita de Mexico (Israeli-Mexican Central Committee), he tries to explain why the community of Beth Shmuel is not included in the Jewish structure. He then lists the rules and regulations the Committee adheres to. This is the code that prevents the Veracruz Jews from enjoying the benefits of being part of the Jewish establishment, among which includes the eleven large, classical, and expensive synagogues of Mexico City.

The temple of Beth Shmuel used to be a building owned by TelMex, the leading Mexican telephone service provider. The building has been long forgotten, but as one approaches the large aluminum doors, the notes of prayer songs can be heard. The members of all of the families line the rows of plastic chairs, praying with relentless conviction. Daniel leads the service as he practices for a Bar Mitzvah that he will perform, now that he is eighteen. The Torah rests in the arc behind him. His mother stitched a hannukiah, the candelabrum used during Hanukkah, onto the Torah cover to commemorate her son’s special day, which happens to be the same weekend as one of the most loved Jewish holy days.

“I went up to the Rabbi and asked him why he hadn’t

called my daughter up to light the candles?”

Aradminta Calderon sits with Jehú, her husband in front of the Catémaco lagoon in Catémaco, a small village known for the spiritual cleansing provided by witches and the small islands inhabited by monkeys. An old fisherman teaches a young boy his trade in the background. Aradminta’s tears catch the dusk while she tells us of the discrimination her family has suffered in one of the established and recognized communities. Even after conversion in accordance to Jewish law, people still doubt her Jewish faith. Her husband tells us that they drive three hours every weekend to go to services in Veracruz. He wonders how many people do that in Mexico City, just to stay in contact with their religion.

The Herrera family, the largest of the community, sings Shabbat songs at their house after services. They dance around the table. The bright yellow walls try to capture the warmth and joy of the moment. And at the center of the table sits a home-cooked chalah. Baked with sugar and sprinkled with salt and carefully made every week by the grandmother of the family, Sara Herrera.

“So that we never cut the umbilical cord that ties us to Israel.”

Asher Herrera, one of the community’s oldest members, sits in front of the ocean, while horses trot behind him and children play in the sand. Sounds of the ocean accompany his tale of the difficult quest to become Jewish. Why do they still doubt his Judaism? Why do they doubt his family’s Judaism?

As a warm winter day comes to a close, the wind picks up. At the back of the Mocambo hotel, the palm trees dance aggressively. Underneath the rows of Roman arches, the entire community comes together. All of the families join for a picture with the Rabbi and his wife. They come together to stand against the opinion of others and to celebrate the devout and wonderful community they have created. As they wave their hands, the end credits roll.