English translation of "Djamila a Media Luz"

DJAMILA "at dim lights"

By Roz Kohen

I grew up in Istanbul but now I live in the United States. Yet the strongest memories are those of my childhood.

Djamila, "the cleaning lady" or as my mother said in Judeo-Espagnol “la mosa", has left me a bittersweet memory that is awakened every time I hear Julio Iglesias sing: "i todo a media luz". *

In the years 1950-55 we lived in a small apartment in Shishane, near the famous, centuries old Genovese Tower in Istanbul. Then we were surrounded by Jewish and Moslem neighbors. Even the Jewish Families that were not rich could afford housekeepers. Majority of these housekeepers were young Moslem women coming from province. But, we also had one housekeeper who was Jewish: Djamila.

When I was 5-6 years old, it seemed to me that Djamila was eighty! Today, I look back and think that she was probably forty or fifty years old. She seemed very old, because of her gray thin hair and her toothless mouth. She was very skinny and always seemed ill.

Djamila used to work eagerly and was known in the Jewish community of Sishane as being an honest worker; she never stole from houses.
Her biggest worry seemed to be her alcoholic husband and her lazy son that were in her care.


..,;.


Djamila had the face of a witch, always with a broom at hand, her pointy nose with a mole, her disheveled gray hair, a cigarette that seemed a permanent hanging fixture of her thin lips, an awkwardly tied head cover, thick stockings hanging on her skinny legs, a mended dress and huge slippers that she dragged as she walked hastily. But when she opened her mouth Djamila was the gentlest person. I remember she refused to sit with us, and said: "It is unacceptable for maids to sit with their bosses to socialize". My Mother was embarrassed that Djamila felt inferior, we all felt she was very old fashioned and had conservative views. Thus Djamila worked all her life in such conditions and one-day we heard she had passed away quietly.

Today I remember Djamila because she sang the famous Spanish song, with her voice roughened from cigarette smoking, as she enthusiastically worked cleaning our house: "i todo a media luz, a media luz los doz, a media luz los bezos, a media luz los doz."*
I would forget of her alcoholic husband and imagine little old Djamila, the sweet gentle lady with her toothless mouth, dancing tango in the arms of a handsome young man that treated her with great respect and admiration and in full ecstasy all "in dim lights"-"i todo a media luz".
I will never know if the song alleviated Djamila's stressful life, but every time I hear the song play I remember my childhood, I think of the dreams Djamila might have had and I smile for a few moments.

*. all in dim lights
. at dim lights the two of us . at dim lights the kisses . at dim lights the two of us