LOS ANGELES TIMES: Zebulon Simantov says he is Afghanistan's last Jew, and he kept kosher as he celebrated Rosh Hashanah. He lives in a broken-down building housing Kabul's last synagogue, and there is a tale involved.
Reporting from Kabul, Afghanistan - It's not easy representing centuries of Jewish tradition single-handedly. Especially if you're in a war-torn Muslim country. But Zebulon Simantov, who claims to be the last Jew in Afghanistan, is doing his best.
At the start of this weekend's Jewish New Year, he lighted three candles, changed into a traditional Afghan shalwar kameez outfit and donned a black yarmulke. He navigated around his Muslim helper, who was wrapping up his Ramadan prayers, and, for 45 minutes, swayed, bowed and intoned Rosh Hashanah prayers while an Indian game show blared from a corner TV.
"I'm the only Jew in Afghanistan," the 57-year-old said. "It's a big responsibility. Yes, I wish there was a larger community. But I keep kosher and maintain the tradition."
Simantov lives like the confirmed bachelor he is in a broken-down building that houses Kabul's last synagogue. His living area is lighted with a single fluorescent bulb, and well-worn Afghan carpets serve as his bed, floor covering and eating surface. A few feet away is his soot-blackened kitchen, from whose open window he periodically tosses waste water down onto a rubble-filled courtyard.
He slaughters his own chickens and sheep in keeping with kosher dietary laws. Normally only a specially designated person can do this, but Simantov said he has obtained permission from a rabbi in Uzbekistan.
"Sometimes he washes the sheep meat so many times, I wonder if he'll wash all the protein out," said Shir Gul Ameri, 22, an Afghan who helps with Simantov's chores.
There's a lot Simantov doesn't discuss, either because he can't remember or prefers not to talk about it. For instance, why he decided to stay in Kabul, enduring civil wars, the Soviet occupation and Taliban rule. That took some doggedness, which may partly explain his gruff personality.
"Don't talk about the Taliban, just eat," he barked. "Everyone had trouble with the Taliban. Very bad people."
But after a few whiskeys -- he favors Johnnie Walker -- a less intimidating side emerges as he welcomes strangers to his Rosh Hashanah Seder replete with heaping plates of mutton kebabs, chicken, okra, squash and grapes. >>> Mark Magnier, Sunday, September 20, 2009
