Henna House (47 page)

“Mrs. Zandman writes that the adjutant tied the woman to a bed and then took a blade and cut her on the lines of her elaborate henna—on her hands and on her feet. He traced the entire henna pattern with a knife, then he left her to bleed to death from her wounds. The other prisoners heard her suffering, heard her crying out during the ordeal, but were forbidden to go to her, even when the adjutant had left, abandoning her to die alone in the bed.”

*  *  *

When I was a child I heard a story of a groom who saved a Torah from a fire. The flames shot out of his back, spelling sacred words. As Mr. Shaham spoke, I saw them in front of me—both of my cousins, Hani and Asaf, lying dead on an altar. The deerskin Torah was their shroud. The shroud was on fire. The letters that burned through their bodies spelled out passages of apocrypha, and the deer that gave its flesh for scripture was there too—a ghostly animal effigy crying and howling with the knowledge that his sacrifice was in vain, as more flesh was needed.

I felt weak; I trembled from head to toe. Even my teeth shook. Binyamin reached out a gentle hand and laid it over my own. There was no sun; I saw only a dim blaze of ash and sorrow.

“Mrs. Bashari?”

“Yes.”

“If you'll permit, I have a question.”

“Ask it.”

“Why do you think . . . why do you think your cousin wrote her diary in code when Hebrew would have been just as untranslatable to a Nazi?”

I didn't hesitate to answer. “Mr. Shaham, Hani wrote in henna because henna was her
sefat em
, her mother tongue. She was in Gehinom, in hell. She knew that Asaf was dead, and that she was going to die. How could she tell such a story in anything but her original language?”

He considered my words for a moment. “She was writing to you, to her cousin.”

“No,” I lied, “she didn't know that I knew the code. I saw it only by accident, when we were girls. And I never told her that I saw it.”

“My dear, it was no accident. The accident is that the diary was ever lost. The miracle is that her suffering and her death—as well as the suffering and death of your boy cousin—received its due translation.”

I let these words pass. I didn't tell him that Asaf had been my husband, and that Hani had taken him from me. I didn't tell him that in a different lifetime, Hani had used her code to inscribe my own hands and feet with psalms of treachery, which had become psalms of redemption. I didn't tell him that I knew now that she had saved me twice—once from my mother, and once from Hitler.

*  *  *

In the days and weeks after I translated Hani's diary, I fell into a sadness that consumed me. I had terrible nightmares. I dreamed of their ordeals. Of Hani in the brothel raped by Nazi officers, then cut and left to die. Of Asaf frozen to death in a jet of ice water. Of Asaf trapped in a block of ice—but in my dreams he wasn't dead at all. He stared out at me, beseeching me for rescue. Then my dreams changed. I dreamed of Qaraah. Of Asaf riding Jamiya on the dunes below my cave. Of Hani tumbling off the donkey carriage and running to me. How she had embraced me. Her silvery voice. The first time I saw her henna. I
dreamed of us young together. I would wake in the middle of one of these dreams and feel lost in my own life, as if time had reversed itself and I had wandered back through the dye mistress's yard again, past the frankincense tree and down the escarpment, and then never found my way back home. Sometimes I couldn't sleep at all, and lay staring at the ceiling through the small hours of the night. During the day, I dragged myself around, barely able to function.

*  *  *

It was then that Binyamin suggested I write this story. He said, “You must turn the tables on fate and take up the pen.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are afflicted by emptiness, my love. Emptiness where Asaf and Hani once were. But if you write about them, you will fill in the empty space with their beating hearts. You will be together again. Souls live on in stories. And the story—why, it can be as big or as little as you wish.”

I considered what he said, and then I asked Binyamin if he minded that if I were to write what he was suggesting, it would be a love story.

“Despite everything that happened,” I whispered, with red cheeks and shame in my heart, “I never really stopped loving either of them.”

He lifted my chin and kissed my lips, and then he said, “Of course you didn't. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. The love you still bear them? Those are your minor-key notes, the ones that give the melody its power to haunt.”

I began to write, and I didn't stop until I had loved them all over again. I bowed down to the story I had to tell, prostrating myself at the altar of narrative. I was in my cave again. A girl alone in the dark belly of the earth.

Henna House

by Nomi Eve

Adela Damari's parents desperately seek a husband for their young daughter to protect her from the Orphans' Decree, which mandates that any unbetrothed Jewish orphan be adopted by a Muslim family. With her father's health failing and no marriage prospects in sight, Adela's situation looks dire until two cousins enter her life: Asaf, to whom she quickly becomes promised, and Hani, who introduces Adela to the mysterious and powerful ritual of henna. Suddenly, Adela's eyes are opened to the world: she begins to understand what it means to love. But when her parents die and a drought threatens their city, Adela and her extended family flee to Aden, where Adela falls in love, discovers her true calling, and is ultimately betrayed by the people and traditions closest to her.

1. An epigraph from the Song of Songs opens the book. Read the entire passage in context (
http://biblehub.com/niv/songs/1.htm
). How is it an appropriate opening to the novel?

2. The characters in this story are Jews who live, for most of the book, in a predominantly Muslim area. How does this affect their lives both practically and in the ways they think about themselves and their role in society? What do you make of the ways both cultures borrow from each other's rituals? Are these groups as separate as they seem to be?

3. In the early part of the story, young Adela is said to be cursed because every groom her parents line up for her passes away. When, if ever, is she freed from this curse?

4. “You must act the part,” the dye mistress tells Adela before her scheduled wedding to Mr. Musa.
“I often take no joy in my spinsterhood; I have no babes to fill my arms, and yet by acting the part of it, I convince myself that I am not lonely. And sometimes it works”
. Do you believe that you can make yourself happy by acting the part? Do you think Adela believes it?

5. What really happened to Mr. Musa? Did Hani have anything to do with his death? Does Adela believe so?

6. Henna serves many roles: a wedding ritual, a charm, and a way for women to bond with one another. Discuss what happens in the henna house when the women adorn one another and how it changes Adela's relationships with them once she is allowed to join in. Why do you think her mother wanted to keep her away for so long?

7. In many places in the story—the death of Hani's twin sisters (
p. 112
),
Asaf's return
, and the discovery of Hani and Asaf's affair (
p. 269
)—there is no definitive recounting of what actually happened, only a series of alternate versions of events. Does this make them seem more or less true? Should the reader question the events presented throughout the rest of the novel?

8. When Adela journeys from Qaraah to Aden, she is confronted for the first time with modernity, and in the end, her life butts up against the well-known historical events of World War II. How does this juxtaposition enhance the story? Does it feel jarring? Think about the parts of the culture and traditions of the old way of life Adela leaves behind as she moves on, and what she takes with her. How do these changes mirror those that are happening in Adela's perception of her place in the world?

9. Consider the role of books and writing in this story, from Uncle Zecharia's Torah to Hani's henna book to the lessons Adela gives the Habbani women on the road to Aden. In what ways is Adela's life transformed when she learns to read and write? How is the written word viewed as its own sort of magic in this story?

10. At times, there is a great tension between Elohim, the traditional Jewish deity, and other gods and personal beliefs. Think about Adela's childhood idols and the Muslim beads Jewish women put on their children for protection (
p. 94
). And when Binyamin is confronted by Adela's brother about not going to synagogue, Adela admits that she doesn't mind, as she and Binyamin both believe
that Elohim is everywhere
. How does this tension express itself in the things characters believe throughout the story, and in what ways does it reflect their development? Is the tension between organized religion and personal belief ultimately resolved?

11. “Do stories submit to authors?” Adela asks.
“Or do authors submit to the tales that tangle up their guts?”
Which do you believe is true? In what ways is a story shaped by its writer? Consider the many tales and stories told throughout this book, and especially the fact that the entire narrative is presented as Adela's story, written—figuratively if not literally—in henna (
p. 2
). How much do we shape the stories of our lives, and how much are we shaped by them?

12. Adela and her family are refugees in Israel in the last part of the story, and the situation Adela describes in the refugee camp, rife with disease and deplorable living conditions, is terrible. Were you aware of Operation On Wings of Eagles and the repatriation of Jews from Yemen and Ethiopia before reading the book? Do you know of similar situations today?

1. The historical note at the end of the book lists several resources the author used in her research about the lives of Yemeni Jews, including
The Jews of the British Crown Colony of Aden
,
A Winter in Arabia
, and
The Jews of Yemen
. Pick one of these books and read it, and then discuss the ways
Henna House
veered from history and how it was faithful to actual events. Alternatively, find a copy of
The Magic Carpet
, which tells more about Operation On Wings of Eagles, and discuss the importance of this true but little-known piece of history.

2. The beauty and artistry of henna is lavishly described in this story. To see pictures of henna application and to learn more about the history and modern applications of henna, visit the Web site
www.hennabysienna.com
and its accompanying blog,
A Research Blog About the History, Culture, and Religious Significance of Henna
. Discuss the techniques and rituals you read about in light of the story.

Every book needs a first reader. This book was read first by my dear friend Sharon Rhodes. Her warm enthusiasm cheered and encouraged me through many pages. I am so grateful.

I want to thank Roz Lippel, Alexis Gargagliano, Whitney Frick, Amanda Urban, and Amelia (Molly) Atlas, all of whom had important roles to play in the coming to fruition of
Henna House
. I am especially grateful to Molly for reading and rereading many drafts and for working tirelessly to support my efforts. I also want to thank Tal Goretsky and Shasti O'Leary-Soudant for the gorgeous cover art, as well as the Scribner copyediting and publicity teams for all of their hard work on this book.

Every day when my kids go to school they know that their mother stays home and makes things up. I want to thank Lev, Atara, and Eden for being patient with me when I am distracted by all of the characters in my head. And I want to thank Aleister Saunders for being the most loving and supportive husband in the entire world—and that is not hyperbole. I also want to thank my researchers and cheerleaders extraordinaire—my parents and in-laws—Rita, Herb, Josh, Debbie, Howard, and Pam. Robin Warsaw, my dear friend, is a brilliant web designer; I am thankful to Robin for building
Henna House
a beautiful Web site. And thank you to all of my wonderful family in various corners of the world for supplying me with love, conversation, and history, the raw materials of fiction.

This is a work of historical
fiction
, not a work of history. While I have paid careful attention to history, I have done the work of a fiction writer, fashioning my own imagined world out of the clay of reality. There are countless instances in this book where I have added details that are
not
based on research but come
entirely
from my own imagination. And there are instances in this book where I changed historical facts in order to suit my narrative. For example, there was no little pogrom in Aden in 1935. There was a small riot in 1932, and isolated attacks against Jews in 1933, but no significant mass violence there until the pogrom of 1947, when eighty-two Jews were killed and the Jewish community of shops, homes, and synagogues set ablaze. In other words, when Selah Bir Ami, apprentice scribe, threw stones at gulls in Crater Harbor, he did so at my behest.

For readers interested in learning more about the history of this fascinating place and time, I recommend several of the books that were so helpful to me in my research:
The Jews of the British Crown Colony of Aden
by Reuben Ahroni;
A Winter in Arabia: A Journey through Yemen
by Freya Stark; and
A Journey Through the Yemen and Some General Remarks Upon That Country
by Walter Harris. My primary source for information on the elaborate clothing of Yemenite Jews was
The Jews of Yemen: Highlights of the Israel Museum Collection
by Ester Muchawsky-Schnapper. And for a wonderful, if somewhat dated, account of Operation On Wings of Eagles, I recommend
The Magic Carpet
by Shlomo Barer. There is also a remarkable body of scholarship on the complexity of the Yemenite experience in Israel, but that subject is mostly out of the range of this book, so I must invite readers to delve into it on their own.