The two Ghetto entrances are surrounded by canals, like most of Venice, crossed by small bridges. At sundown, gates to the entrances were locked and non-Jewish guards stood watch. This ensured that Jews followed the law to remain within the Ghetto walls after dark. Simultaneously, the Jews paid the guards for protection from the outside. Today, the entrances have indentations from the gate hinges. I watch the flushed faces and hear the laughter, it is the Great Feast, a miracle is being celebrated; the Maccabees won their ancient victory and a temple lamp burned for eight nights on one night's oil. My feet are cold, I have been standing still too long. I am heady from the excitement in the air and, something else, I feel connected to the people. "I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions?" Shylock -- The Merchant of Venice Hath not a Jew feet? I walk across the square in front of the Levantine Synagogue, and remember covering the same ground the August before.
