Oy Vey! Young Jewish Man Not Impressed by Costa Rica

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Jewish Israel Costa Rica

Photo from the Union of Jewish Congregations of Latin America and the Caribbean

Shalom aleichem. Zach C. Cohen is a student at the American University in Washington, D.C. In 2013, he found himself in San Jose during the solemn Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), so he attended service at the Congregation B’nei Israel near La Sabana, a very nice place where you are warmly greeted with bruchim ha-baim! Mr. Cohen, however, found the B’nei to be an unassuming “small stone building” in a “foul city filled with Catholics and atheists.”

Last year, the Costa Rica Star was happy to share the news about San Jose being deemed a “lovable city” by British magazine Monocle. Sadly, in a recent essay written by Mr. Cohen and published by New Voices (News and Views of Campus Jews), San Jose does not appear so lovable. In Mr. Cohen’s Judaical worldview, San Jose is:

…an ugly city. The streets are lined with storefronts due for a paint job. Trash and dog droppings line the sidewalks. Every afternoon, like clockwork, the tropical weather brings in a rainstorm that puts most Sunday showers stateside to shame. At night, drug dealers and (legal) prostitutes roam the streets.

Interestingly, Mr. Cohen seems to know a bit about harlotry in Costa Rica. Upon arriving at the B’Nei Israel, Mr. Cohen’s Yom Kippur took a bit of an ominous turn:

Security was tight. A guard checked my identification to make sure it matched the name I gave days earlier.

But then, things improved:

It was the first religious service in Costa Rica that truly spoke to me. Even though I was in Central America, I was able to pray freely as we toggled between Hebrew, Spanish and English.

We know that San Jose is not for everyone. This is a city that gives it to you like it is; her unofficial motto should be along the lines of “You wanted the kitchen sink, right? Because it’s in there, too.” There are quite a few charming spots in San Jose, but then there are other places that are as scary as slums in Haifa.

Back to Mr. Cohen: A month before his less-than-charming Yom Kippur in Costa Rica, he had celebrated Shabbat at a different synagogue in San Jose, where:

Security was even tighter […] I found a family member, friends of a friend of a friend, who brought me to services. We drove up to a large cement wall. Armed guards checked the driver’s ID as more men patrolled the wall itself. He waved us in as a massive door slid open to reveal the inner courtyard, where we made our way to the parking garage. Once inside, we walked past more walls to an inner courtyard, which housed the shul itself in a massive building modeled on the channukiyah. From the street, passersby wouldn’t think this was a synagogue. Perhaps a military base or the headquarters of a gringo corporation, but never a house of worship.

Against this John LeCarre-sque (or shall we say Leon Uris-h?) backdrop, Mr. Cohen wondered:

“Why all the security?” I asked my sponsor. He reminded me of the 1994 bombing of a synagogue in Argentina.

Upon his return to the United States, Mr. Cohen reflected upon his experiences:

Granted, I never really felt threatened in Costa Rica. But I wasn’t open about who I was. I didn’t talk about being Jewish unless it came up in conversation.

The swastikas in every public bathroom stall in Costa Rica were meant to be homophobic or racist more than anti-Semitic. But their near daily presence was excruciating.

It was hard not to take some of these personally. It was hard being Jewish. There were no Shabbat dinners or daily prayers in my life, so I felt Jewish a grand total of three times in Costa Rica. I had to seek out spiritual enlightenment, and that usually only happened within the walls of the synagogue.

Not all was lost for Mr. Cohen in Costa Rica. He ends his well-written piece in a hopeful note:

I cannot just survive, but thrive, as a stranger in a strange land, and know that Jewish life can flourish both in San José and Jerusalem, this gives me immense hope for the future of the Jewish people.

Well, yishar koach, young one! That’s more like it. Sorry you didn’t get the Pura L’chaim experience in the lovable capital city of San Jose. Perhaps you should stop by mentioned in the Times of Israel, which is a fine publication. Did you know that Costa Rica and Israel keep pretty good diplomatic relationships despite our country’s support of the occupied territories? You might also want to read this previous article, in which you can learn a bit about the history of the Jewish community in Costa Rica:

Dental practitioner Dr. Yoav Taub and his wife arrived in the Juan Santamaria International Airport and tried to clear customs with a few days’ supply of kosher food.

Dr. Taub could have seen his kosher products confiscated had it not been for a translator who explained to the customs agent the reason for his visit: to perform dental work for free on low-income people in Costa Rica who need it the most.

“The customs agent gave me a hug and said, ‘I love you.’ He wrapped up all the food, put it back and let us through.”

More than half a century ago, Tico immigration agents skirted regulations when faced with a group of Jews escaping persecution:

“After the Holocaust, a second group of 100 Jews landed in Limon, on the Caribbean coast, seeking refuge, where for the first time, they met Black people. According to the law at the time, all immigrants were required to show that they had $25.

The Jews arrived nearly penniless, but someone had $25, which, after being shown was passed to the next in line. […]

Customs Officials knew exactly what was going on, but allowed the Jews to enter because they understood that they were concentration camp survivors who needed a home.”

One last thing, Mr. Cohen: Always remember the wise words of Rabbi Eliyahu of Vilna:

“The entire purpose of our existence is to overcome our negative habits.”

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