Of these stories, two were outstanding: (a) dumping garbage or dust, from roof tops, on the Prophet's head while he was passing through the narrow streets, and (b) attempting to poison him. Although nobody ever saw any public persecution of Jews for faithlessness, the criticism remains why Moslem parents did not check their molesting boys. In other words, it could be interpreted as their tacit consensus
We all know that children often reflect their parent's attitudes. The lifestyle of the people of the town, after 70 years, is now crystal clear: without electrify, radios, TVs, newspapers, books and almost 99% illiteracy, people had nothing to talk about except quoting what they had heard from the clergies during their daily visit to mosques or tombs of distant cousins of numerous imams.
Therefore, when the Moslem boys left their provocative homes for play, and encountered risk-free Jewish females carrying water in the heavy pottery, some of them would launch a salvo of stone missiles at the water carriers. In most cases, the water carriers would cuddle the hard-to-earn pots rather than shielding their faces or heads. When the barrage ceased, they would get up, pick up the cans and scurry for their shelters, some bleeding, some bruised, some limping. The water carriers were always instructed not to openly protest. However, sobbing and beseeching were considered proper.
Or when the fifty-year old rabbi of the Jewish community with long grayed beard walked in the winding alleys to go to the market place, some Moslem boys would hide behind trees and throw burning matches at the rabbi's long beard. One could hear the sizzling sound and smell the scent of wool. All the rabbi could do was shield his face; he did not even say 'shoo'. But the Shiite boys licked their lips.
Once, after a raid carried out in the name of a senior Moslem cleric, who died 10 years ego, to the same rabbi's home, the rabbi, for humiliation purpose, was ordered to carry the community's pottery barrel full of homemade wine on his back to be emptied into a right place, a lavatory. The rabbi was, in fact, the doctor's brother.
History books tell us that Jews in Europe were shut up in congested ghettoes, mobbed by the Christians and robbed by their kings. They were outcaste and excommunicated, insulted, bruised, injured, persecuted and decimated-a lifestyle that they continued for one thousand, nine hundred and thirty six years.
Then, after almost 2000 years of dispersion, the Jews saw a dim light at the end of the tunnel: the United Nations voted to let Jews return to their homeland, Palestine. On May 14, 1948 about 1 ½ million Jews immigrated to Israel, probably including our long bearded rabbi, the giant bather, the injured girls, the terrified hungry mothers.
Before ending this story, I would like to add the following as a P.S. to the episode of the old rabbi with the wine barrel on his bent back.
Witnesses say that the rabbi's brother, the doctor, who was standing nearby and watching the rabbi reaching the middle of the rickety bridge, said: hashirmashkeh.' Upon hearing this, the rabbi pretended to have tripped over and went down, thus smashing the wine clay barrel and spilling the wine into the crystal clear river water rather than emptying it in the open disgusting flowing mass of excrement of the loo! The witnesses to this story who did understand their mutual dialect, Jews and Moslems, failed to decipher what 'hashirma' meant. Half translation means: 'Make it hashirma', probably meaning 'smash it'.