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Inspiration from a Sicilian mikveh

How the medieval Jews of Sicily are helping me cope with my breast cancer experience

July 12, 2024 16:14
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3 min read

Sometimes, when we’re on family vacations, I don’t look for Jewish sites. It’s not because I have no desire to learn about Jewish life in, say, Annecy. Or Sicily. It’s just that my children have this idea of me that all I think about is JewsJewsJewsJewsJews, and I, obviously, like to prove them wrong.

So, it was hardly my fault that when exploring the tiny island of Ortigia off of Siracusa in Sicily over half-term break last month, we stumbled upon a street called Alla Giudecca. That’s right, Giudecca – as in Judaica – the old Jewish quarter.

Lucky for me, or more realistically, lucky for my teenage sons, who would have shown little interest in our unintended discovery and dragged their feet and complained, my husband and I had, for that one day only, left the boys at our accommodations in Taormina while we set off to see ancient Greek and Roman ruins. By the next day, we’d be back to doing what they considered great fun, like jumping off giant cliffs into freezing water at the Alcantara Gorge (to be precise, they jumped off cliffs, and I did not, though I did endure the freezing water, so I would like a Mother of the Year Award, thank you very much). But on this one day in Sicily, my husband and I found ourselves on Alla Giudecca unusually unharried, and there was a tourist site to visit: an old mikveh.

Admittedly, even for me (JewJewJewJew), a mikveh didn’t sound terribly exciting. I’ve been in one, and let’s be honest. It’s just a pool of water.

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