Ten Lost Tribes Challenge - India: 'We are the descendants of Menashe, we are Jewish; we need to get to Israel, the land of our forefathers, immediately. Help us.'

CHURACHANDAPUR, Manipur - Friday morning we get up at 05:30! We leave Imphal with a tfilat haderech [prayer for the traveler] and a parasha about the life of Sarah, Abraham's wife. Amen. Yishar Koach. I didn't know that the first piece of real-estate the Jews bought in Canaan was a piece of land that Abraham bought so that he could bury Sarah. The first piece of land in Eretz Israel was a grave.

As we head out of Imphal we drive past an army base. On the base's entrance is a large sign: Prove your identity. I love the English here. The group is getting more disciplined with every passing day [I'm grudgingly becoming more disciplined too]. We are told to get up at 05:30, so we're up at 05:30. Shacharit [morning prayer] is at 06:00 [I do yoga]. By 6:30 the bags need to be packed and outside our hotel room doors. Breakfast is between 6:30 and 7:30, and in this time we also need to make sandwiches for lunch. For breakfast we have omelettes, salad, tuna, cereal and banana shake. This group is so disciplined that we're even shaving time off - everyone is ready to go before 07:30, and Mosh is happy.

Driving through Manipur, we see many people bathing and washing their clothes in rivers and ponds. Israel, the photographer and my roommate [we are now called Tzevet Hamedia - the Media Team] asks: "if a person washes himself in dirty water, is he really clean or does he just feel clean?" It makes me think of the Israeli saying that denotes a state of mind, and which can be switched both ways: 'to be without something but to feel that you have that thing' - which is usually the way happy but poor people live; and conversely, 'to have something but to feel like you don't have that thing' - which is how some rich, unhappy people feel. How you take in India depends on your state of mind. Just like everywhere else in the world.  

Signs on the road in Manipur: Peace and Purity Campaign [what the hell is that?]; Total Sanitation Campaign; Bible Correspondence Course; Rural Informatics.

Churachandapur is home to the biggest concentration of Bnei Menashe that practice Judaism in North East India, and serves as Shavei Israel's HQ for coordinating activity for the rest of the region. The Bnei Menashe council here represents 27 communities. As the bus pulls into the road that houses the Beit Shalom, I see Christian signs on the corner. It's the same story as almost all other Beit Shaloms. Heveinu Shalom Aleichem and Shevet Achim gam yachad and Am Israel Chai as we get off the bus.

One of the young men who greets us is wearing a five-pointed star and I wonder if I'm the only one who has noticed that and thinks it odd [others here are wearing Stars of David]. The Beit Shalom is a really impressive affair: there is a synagogue, a dozen rooms, a kitchen, dining hall, a water well, electricity, fluorescent lighting and air conditioners. There is also a mikveh [ritual bath] here named after Dr. Miriam Freund - Rosenthal dedicated by her son Michael Freund, Chairman of Shavei Israel and a Jerusalem Post columnist. I remember asking Michael before I left what he thought of the idea of this expedition, and his answer has been at the forefront of my mind since I got here. "I don't want the Bnei Menashe to feel like they are exhibits at a museum," he told me. While it may look like that from the outside, and sometimes it feels like it, most of our group take this opportunity of getting to know the Bnei Menashe very seriously; they are grabbing it with both hands, and I think the feeling is mutual. Instead of being presented with shawls, this time the men are given black ties with patterns and the women head coverings. I make my tie, and then help three of our men with theirs [12 years of public school in South Africa comes in handy for something at last]. 

Some of the young ladies of the community ask the women in our group if they have any laundry that needs cleaning, which is very touching and much appreciated [too bad they didn't ask me - my laundry is piling up]. The young girls here remind me very much of b'not ulpana back home: fervent, spirited, committed to their faith. They even dress like the ulpana girls. There are about 100 Bnei Menashe here, and they have prepared a ceremony for us, but our group doesn't wait on ceremony and we break out into the usual songs. To our amazement, the girls match our own groups' vigor for singing and the volume and zeal rises to levels we haven't seen before. One time we start a song, the next time the girls. All the other Bnei Menashe around the courtyard mouth the words, but the girls know the songs well.

The President of the Council gives us a speech, one we have heard before from all the council presidents we have met. Mosh points out that news of our expedition has spread like wildfire in North-East India, and that the Bnei Menashe are seizing the opportunity to meet us, affirm their status, and ask for our assistance. Again this raises the question of the purpose of this expedition. Are we here just to look and learn, or are we part of the process of getting these people converted and to Israel? Are we being naïve? Whatever we think we're doing here, the Bnei Menashe see us as emissaries of Israel, and they send out the presidents of their communities [and everyone else] to meet us. Some of these guys travel days to reach us. And they all say the same thing: We are the descendants of Menashe, we are Jewish; we need to get to Israel, the land of our forefathers, immediately. Help us.

We are given about two hours to prepare for Shabbat, and all the while the Bnei Menashe sing Hebrew songs. Dressed in our Shabbat finest, we all pack into the synagogue with much excitement. We all pray together, and if you close your eyes and listen, you may just think you're in Jerusalem, or any other Orthodox synagogue in Israel. After kabalat Shabbat prayers at the synagogue we shake everyone's hands, saying Shabbat Shalom. I feel it is all a bit fake. I feel strange. I'm looking into their eyes, shaking their hands and saying Shabbat Shalom. But these people are not Jewish yet, they haven't technically been converted yet. It's all a bit odd and mechanical.

My cynicism has returned, and it has returned at the worst [best?] possible moment -  Friday night service. Everyone else in my group is shaking hands and smiling, but I'm shaking hands but not smiling. I'm struck by the thought: how did chief rabbi Shlomo Amar arrive at the decision to affirm that these people are the descendants of the lost tribe of Menashe and thus qualify for conversion and immigration? When, and under what circumstances did he make that decision. Is this all really happening? Will all these people and countless others become Jewish and move to Israel? Are the Bnei Menashe the next Falashmura? But here again I am straying into territory I have decided to stay out of, there are others, more qualified, to deal with that. We start dancing around the dais, and this feels more comfortable than shaking hands and saying Shabbat Shalom, so I join in.

Finally, the discussion of the purpose, meaning and effects of our expedition through North-East India comes up at the oneg Shabbat. I've been waiting for this to happen since we first started because I think it is at the core of our experience. It's already 9pm and we all got up at 05:30 [this is the second time we've had to get up that early, usually we get up at 06:30 - I say to my roommate yesterday morning, "hey, Israel, what kind of vacation is this where they make you get up at 5:30 in the morning". "It's not a vacation," Israel says, "It's a mission."] Despite the 'late' hour and everyone's fatigue, we put everything on the table. Some people in this group raise the question of how we can help absorb the Bnei Menashe once they get to Israel. Someone else retorts that this is not the purpose of our presence here, that we will not solve the immigration and absorption problems in Israel, and that we are here just to learn and encourage, and go home. This view is unacceptable to the majority of the group, and a heated, but civilized and important discussion ensues. I raise the possibility that Shai Bar Ilan tours does a real-time investigation of the effects of our visit on the Bnei Menashe communities we meet. What happens to them after we leave? What happens to their relations with their neighbors? What are the expectations of the Bnei Menashe from these visits? I suggest to Mosh that his team call the places we visit two or three days afterwards and see what's happened. Mosh drops a bomb on us: one of the Indian fixers he used in Kohima was questioned for 3 hours by the local authorities after we left. They wanted to know what a group of tourists was doing in this area, where no tourists venture. Mosh tells us that the fixer is ok. The discussion is too long and complex to get into here, and I think it will form the basis of my feature story when I get back to Israel. After hours of thrashing things out, we head, mercifully, to sleep.

Saturday morning here and the synagogue is packed to the hilt with Bnei Menashe and Israeli guests. By listening to the sounds coming out of the synagogue you'd think you were in Bnei Brak or Jerusalem. Hundreds of people praying on a Saturday morning, the prayers being led by a local Bnei Menashe man. Eyal [tour guide] says they have a tenderness and sensitivity to their prayers that he really admires. They also sit quietly when needed to, and chant loudly when required. Mosh and I, the only two people here not wearing a kippa on a regular basis, do our morning yoga in his room.

After yoga, Mosh and I take a walk around the neighborhood. After a few minutes I hear what sounds like praying, what we've just left back at the Beit Shalom. Getting closer to the sound we hear it is actually in Hindi, but it sounds like a lot of children singing prayers. We stop by the building, curious. A man comes out and we talk. He says that this is a school and invites us in. We are introduced to a young man called Ngamlum, a teacher at this, the Logos English School. While privately run, it is a school established for the Baptist community. Ngamlum allows us to talk to his students, that even though it's a Saturday are learning general knowledge. These 30 kids live at this school of 600 and 6 days a week, resting on Sunday. One of the other teachers brings in a guitar and the class starts to sing for us: "We love you Jesus Christ... I want to praise you Lord... I want to love you Lord much more than I do." They sing quite beautifully, these children around the corner from the Beit Shalom.

Ngamlum has an interesting surprise for us. His brother left Christianity, embraced Judaism and moved to Israel. The rest of the family stayed Christian. This Bnei Menashe story cuts through many families, and I wonder how many Christians, who see themselves as Bnei Menashe, will want to convert to Judaism and join their families in Israel one day.

Finally, I get to play some cricket in the streets with the local kids. This is it for me, this is what I've wanted to do since I got to India - spend the days playing cricket outdoors. After getting back from the Baptist school, I run into a street game. This is the moment I have been dreaming about for years. I ask the batsman if I could face a few balls and he lets me. The bowler is a teenager, and he bowls quite quickly. He pitches it up and I parry to leg. The next ball goes for a wide. Third ball I knick to the wicketkeeper, but they graciously let me continue batting. Next they bring on a spinner, an older boy. These kids have really good skills. The spinner is as good as anyone I've faced in Israel [is that saying much?] and I'm forced to block a few balls. After a drive, and a pull, he pitches one short but quick and I swing, the ball goes for a six and disappears, and I'm afraid I've ruined their game; because they can't go fetch it and they pack up the piece of wood they've used for stumps and disperse.

Amir Mizroch is the News Editor at The Jerusalem Post, a writer and an award-winning blogger. For all of Amir's blogs and articles, visit his personal blog Forecast Highs.

PREVIOUS ENTRIES:

• Soldiers, militants and insurgents - Nov 23,2008
• Internalizing the meaning of this expedition to meet a lost tribe - Nov 23, 2008
• A 'Jewish' ghetto in a Christian village in India - Nov 22, 2008
• 'So, how is Ariel Sharon?' - Nov 22, 2008
• Stories from the bus - Nov 21, 2008
• The plot thickens - Nov 20, 2008
• Under my purple shawl - Nov 20, 2008
• So how many Bnei Menashe are there? - Nov 19, 2008
• Ben Hur loves Zion: Inside the home of a Bnei Menashe - Nov 19,2008
• How did a small tribe from Samaria get all the way out here? - Nov 18, 2008
• Conversation with a Bnei Menashe tribesman - Nov 18, 2008
• Indian airports spell chaos - Nov 18, 2008
• News from Amman - the first stop en route to India - Nov 17, 2008
• Dreams of reunification and travel preparations - Nov 16, 2008
• Meeting the lost tribe of Menashe - Nov 16, 2008
• Government approves aliya of 150 Bnei Menashe - Nov. 12, 2008