Sideways Science

on writing, memory, soil & sacrifice

taken somewhere in Portugal

A few years back, I had my DNA analyzed. I was hoping for something spicy, a sign that some long-ago grandmother ran off with a Greek sailor or Mongolian horseman. But it seemed my ancestors stuck to the shtetl: my genes are Jewish right up to the margin of error.

Determined to make my history a bit more interesting, I began researching. I discovered there are genetic markers for the Kohanim, the Jewish high priests who are said to be the descendants of Moses’ brother, Aaron. Within Jewish communities, knowledge of whether you are a member of this caste is passed down, father to son. My father is amongst the Kohanim. For 3400 years, give or take, this information was handed down not only in my family but, apparently, through my blood.

I wonder sometimes what my blood knows of mysticism and the mysteries. What ancient memories are buried in my DNA and how I might unlock them.