Saturday we did a bit of shopping, a bit of eating and a lot of exploring. I really wanted to show her Clarksdale, the town where I would be working, so we drove over there late yesterday afternoon. Anne Marie had shown me a Jewish cemetery in the area, so we wanted to check it out. We drove slowly through the parking lot, looking at the names and tombstones, when this guy, about my age, who was walking by, stopped and asked us if there was a Jewish community around the area. Turns out his name was Peleg (or something like that) and he was from Israel, but was traveling, for three weeks, in America. He'd been in Clarksdale a couple days, and specifically picked Clarksdale because of the history of the blues there. So we got to talking to him and he was interesting and kinda unusual. I mean, its not everyday you meet an Israeli in the middle of the Mississippi Delta!
Here are some pictures of the afternoon:
This is mom talking to Peleg (she kept referring to him as Pegleg
This was on one of the larger monumental tombstones-- isn't it really pretty?
I just love the beads on here-- you could tell they were beautiful and expensive and colorful necklaces, and there was a small pin with an owl on it. It makes me wonder who was buried there and who put that beautiful, and rather haunting, tribute to them.
I asked Peleg to translate this particular grave marker for us, since many of them were in Hebrew. He said that David Abrams was generous of spirit, loving friend, kind and "naive but in a good way"-- he said there wasn't really a good translation for that last description.
Many of the tombstones had small rocks and stones on top of them. I remembered this from my short-lived participation in the Newton Roxy Theater's production of The Cemetery Club back when I was teaching! According to my research then (and the refreshing of my memory now!), the stones are left there as a symbolic monument to the deceased. It is an ultimate act of kindness and respect to bury someone and place a marker on the site. A person can only be buried once-- however, each person who comes by can continue to erect a monument or marker on the grave, which they do in a symbolic way by placing the stones.
The entire experience was really neat-- it was a beautiful place. My pictures don't do it justice-- still cannot find my camera. And Peleg was super nice. He came over before he left and asked me how to get to Greenwood, because he had a car and was planning to drive there that afternoon. Since I don't know the area, I wasn't able to help him much. In fact, we were mostly useless to most of his questions about the Jewish people in the community, etc. Mom fussed at me for not talking to him more, suggesting he was "flirting" with me when he was asking for directions. I don't know what else she wanted me to do-- I mean, I got out a freaking map. Of course, she knows I don't have the "flirting" gene that most of the other women in my family have. I have no ability to flirt whatsoever. And i guess I missed my opportunity to flirt with an Israeli in the Delta. Too bad, I'm pretty sure that was on my bucket list somewhere.
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