KHORMAKSAR 1952: the conversion that never was
WE’RE ALL confined to quarters following the Church Parade incident, and during my ample time to meditate I experience a wondrous conversion. I’m going to become a Jew like Graham.
No more Sunday School, great. No more Padre Ashe droning on in church, even better. Leaving class and heading for home when Padre Ashe conducts the religious instruction, best of all. On our release from confinement the Kids join up in jubilant agreement and at the pool all our friends on National Service think it’s a great idea, they will convert too. The news goes round our little station community like wildfire, and now Dad says all his airmen want to be Jews as well because Jews don't do Sundays.
We knew who caused the church uproar as soon as we spotted Abdul, who lives a contented life in a box at Graham’s back door, eating kitchen scraps and seizing the odd cockroach as a delicacy. Graham commiserates on the grievous injustice we have suffered, listens with satisfaction as we describe the ensuing chaos, and tells us that he retrieved an indignant Abdul after Padre Ashe had ejected him with a brush. He has already rebuilt his stock of locusts, you never know when they’ll be handy. Graham keeps a pocketful of locust fuselages for his pet, and we feed these tasty morsels to Abdul as Graham begins our instruction into the Jewish faith.
We learn that the Jews have a rabbi not a Padre, or rather they don’t have one at RAF Khormaksar because his family are the only Jews. A major benefit is that Jews do not go to church, instead they go to something called a sinner-gog. But Graham has never been to one, and there isn’t one in Aden because the Arabs might object, we can’t think why but hey, it’s all good news. Robert says that Padre Ashe is always talking about sinners being washed clean of sin, so we conclude that the sinner-gog is some sort of theological laundry.
Graham talks about the Ark, the bar mitzvah and some sort of candlestick they bring out on a Saturday night. The Ark is no problem, we can launch it at Steamer Point Lido as long as it fits in the gharri. I recall that mum has a bra thing as some part of her underwear, and we fall about at the idea of wearing a candlestick as a vest, we don’t wear vests in Aden anyway because it’s too hot. These are but minor details, and clearly Judaism is the way to go.
We announce our decision to our parents, who have met at Graham’s house for lunch. They are very encouraging and agree that the benefits make our decision a no-brainer, for Judaism requires only one teensy weensy thing in return. We listen with mounting horror as the contribution which Judaism requires of its male members is gently explained to us.
Shortly afterwards three committed Christians and a solitary Israelite set out for the swimming pool.
NEXT WEEK: The Kids befriend a passing camel on the Sheikothman Road. Surely no harm can come of this?