In the Jewish area of Flatbush where elders occupy benches and the sidewalk is filled with Orthodox power walkers, lays a synagogue most are too oblivious to notice. The Caucasian Jewish Congregation on Ocean Parkway is about the size of a private house, small and orderly. Though there are plenty of synagogues in the area, this particular one must welcome a whole community. Being the only synagogue for Mountain Jews in New York, and one of the few in the world, it redefines the Mountain Jew heritage.
     The synagogue has one big room for prayer devoted to men and a small balcony for women upstairs. In the back of the small building is a smaller room that hosts events such as cutting hair for 3-year-old
Lasko Family Tours"boys or educating bar mitzvah boys.
     The Mountain Jews are few and proud. They are true Sephardim: eternal preservers of their tradition and family ties. Carrying their customs all the way from ancient Persia, the Mountain Jews are speakers of old Farsi, a unique and ancient language said to be rooted in the Sumeric, Hebrew and Old Persian languages the community has spoken throughout their history.
     Sources tell that these are the same Jews that never returned to Eretz Yisroel after exile in Babylonia. Instead they settled in the Babylonian territory and were forced to relocate further to the Caucasus mountains after the end of the Babylonian Talmudic period. They got the name Mountain Jews from living in the mountains and valleys of the region. The word Caucasian in the synagogue's title refers to the Caucasus mountains. Who could imagine that these Jews would leave their aged valleys and mountains and witness the building of their castle in the land of opportunity?
     Although their home was once part of the former Communist Soviet Union, the Mountain Jews founded their own synagogues. Having their own congregations in old Persia (currently Azerbaijan) where most of the population is either Muslim or atheist, the struggle to preserve religion was a harsh one.
     Even though the community is small — over 10,000 people in New York and about 100,000 nationwide, according to Wikipedia — the Mountain Jews yearned for their own piece of home. Efforts to build the congregation started in the middle 1990s and succeeded in 2001. Mountain Jews no longer had to attend synagogues of other communities. However, the synagogue now faces another problem. The limited space is just not large enough.
     Since Mountain Jews are very welcoming and homey, the synagogue reflects these qualities. "The community is close," said Binyamin Ruvinov, one of the leaders of the congregation. "Most people know each other through family ties." Many celebrate simchas together.
     During the holidays so many visitors show up that people have to stand outside in masses taking turns going inside for the service. People cluster together barely leaning toward heaven or bowing in the course of prayer. Visitors come from all over and all are welcomed. Many walk far lengths on Shabbat or holidays, some crossing the whole Ocean Parkway from one end to the next to get to the synagogue. What is an hour or two walk to their small piece of Promised Land in a foreign country when their ancestors walked for 40 years in the desert to get to theirs?
     "The community is very warm and united, always happy to welcome guests and close ones," said Sima Pisahov, a student at Maalot Seminary in Brooklyn. "They are also respectful to each other and managed to preserve Judaism until current times. The food range is a nice touch because it is very varied and distinct."
     The Mountain Jews continue the customs that they brought with them from their homeland. For instance, the synagogue has its own specific way of decorating the Torah scrolls. They wrap them in a beautifully embroidered, flower–patterned woman's kerchief. The Mountain Jewish women have covered their hair with those flowered kerchiefs for generations instead of wigs, hats or other head coverings. The Torah scrolls are also accessorized with cone–shaped metal carvings.
     As for all Jews, the holidays and Shabbat are always welcomed with lots of food. The food is distinct for this group. For generations the Mountain Jews would make their own wine, squeezing grapes in their fresh mountain setting. In our days, the wine remains but the richness of the winemaking is gone and remains only in the tales of their ancient Persian homeland.
     Kiddush with the wine is always accompanied by a traditional Mountain Jewish meal. It includes either chicken baked in the oven with egg whites or onion or cabbage leaves rolled with meat in a sour sauce made of fruit juice boiled for a few hours. A lot of the food is spicy, made with lots of pepper and vinegar.
     The Mountain Jews drink tea in small glasses, not teacups, throughout the day. The tea is a rich black one. They refill their cups and accompany them with solid sugar cubes. Curiously, the cubes are held in the hand and munched on through the familiar tea–drinking ceremony to mask the strong taste of black tea.
     On Chanuko (not Chanukah) we eat our traditional food, not latkes or doughnuts, and light the menorah.
      The Mountain Jewish teenagers are a proud group. Part of the pride is initially instilled in the children from a young age by their parents. I often come home from school, sit down to drink tea with my family and hear my father say, "Remember that our community from all of the other Jews living in the former Soviet Union never once lost a piece of our heritage. Everyone followed tradition without exceptions." He continues on about his grandmother and her fierce preservation of kashrut during the tough Russian rule.
     Further, he gives me the rundown of our community—a small population with a large percentage of prominent individuals. Then he would list names of doctors, lawyers and businessmen and go on to emphasize those who are engaged in the arts such as singers, band leaders, writers and poets in the original Old Farsi. His list of personalities includes Israeli singer Sarit Hadad; Israeli Defense Force Maj. Gen. Kuti Adam; successful businessman and philanthropist Telman Ismailov; and even my aunt, Kamila Agayeva, who is a well-known obstetrician and gynecologist in Brooklyn.
     My father's talks are a sort of cue to remind me that no matter who surrounds me or what customs my school may observe, I should always remember that my heritage is primary. There's always a cup of black tea in front of me when my father shares these words.
     Mountain Jewish teens like to stick together and underscore the existence of their society. We're often angered when no one knows we exist. Teenagers often have a hard time explaining their origin to their peers. The questions are often the same, "How can you speak Russian and be a Sephardic Jew? How can you speak Old Farsi and not be from Iran?"
Explaining that old Persian territory was once part of the Soviet Union clarifies the knowledge of Russian. We come from an area within the Persian Empire (not Iran), which is why the community is Sephardi and speaks Old Farsi.
     At Shulamith High School for Girls I am part of a diverse student body. I make sure my classmates know where I come from and when they try to group me with their own communities, such as other Sephardim, they fail. I am not offended; I am proud because I am a single representative and I can add my own category to the list of student backgrounds. When it comes to taking school pictures that poke fun at our diversity, I stand as the unique one somewhere in between the Russians and the Persians at the center of the shot.
     I know that no one understands my origin better than my Mountain Jewish friends. Only they can accompany me to shul or meet me at a family simcha. They are always there to offer me tea in glass cups or for their parents to delight in the unity of our friendship in a foreign setting. I am willing to get to know other Jewish communities; I just want others to know of mine.
     "I feel like our community is great because it gives us an opportunity to connect with our traditions," said Zhanna Digilova, a senior at Murry Bergtraum High School for Business Careers in Manhattan. "It is very easy to get caught up in American lifestyle and lose a sense of who we are but our community helps us revive our culture."
     Like the rest of my community I value my synagogue's existence and look forward to gathering with my Mountain Jewish friends on holidays to attend a home made specifically for us. As the young generation we are the leaders of prayers. We are familiar with the services; we know the prayers by heart while the people a generation before do not have as much experience.
     However, the older generation maintains the good fortune of spreading the Mountain Jew legacy to their children. When the community is together there is strength and hope for the future, spiritually and physically. As long as tradition lives on like it always did for the Mountain Jews, the strengthening of their beliefs and the expansion of their horizons await the community as it always did.

Polina Pinkhasova is a senior at Shulamith High School for Girls in Brooklyn.