The Preservation of Jewish Languages and Cultures in memory of Hayyim (Marani) Trabelsy
In memroy of my parents, Sara and Kamayes Bublil and my grandmother Chmisa of Bublil
We hid inside the house with the help of our Christian neighbours who lived in our building.
We saw fire outside our window, a sight we have never experienced before.
We hid for 28 days.
The Christians kept away every Muslim who asked about hiding Jews.
They brought us milk and bread during that time.
The King realised he cannot protect the Jews and so he issued us an exit clearance instead of a traveling document.
We haven’t been to Libya since.
We found out that there was no room on the flight to Rome, so we chose to fly to Sicily instead of lagging in Libya. After spending a night in Catania, we arrived in Rome to meet my aunt. We arrived in Israel shortly afterwards.
I left Tripoli at 15 years old. I was a boy, but I understood everything that has happened.
My father owned a butcher shop, he was a butcher. My mother was a housewife that took care of all our needs.
We had a Muslim house worker who helped my mother with everything that was needed, like laundry, cleaning etc. We lived a good life.
I went to “Scuola Italia”, which was an Italian school, where both Christians and Muslims studied.
We had a better quality of living than the rest of the locals. We were respected. Thanks to our social status, I was invited twice to the King’s Palace for a party dedicated to his son.
I tell you this to demonstrate how good our life was until 1967.
In 1967, after the victory of Israel in the Six-Day War, the Muslims attacked the Jews, burnt houses and killed people.
General translation:
It was good. There was no fear. Everyone was ok. We left the synagogue. We went outside to the market, to hang out. I mean, we were free – you’re not scared.
Perish the thought that an Arab would do something terrible to a Jew, “his luck would fall” (expression). The Jews there are hot-headed and love each other very much.
We are from Tripoli and we spoke proper Tripolitanian, not like the way they speak in the villages. For instance, “Would you like something?” “We will give it to you!”. It was all good.
The streets there were mixed – Arabs and Jews. We lived together when the majority were Jews. If someone did something bad to a Jew – they showed him alright! We were fearless.
It was good amongst the Jews. No fighting. If you fell out with someone, they would immediately make peace between you. They would say “what’s with the fighting? We are neighbours, aren’t we?.
Tripoli is a big city; there’s no chance to get to know everyone in the community. Only those who you meet on Shabbat and holidays.
We had a place called “Communita” – if there was anything you needed – they would bring it to you. All you had to do is ask, and without even knowing, you’d find it right there.
