My name is Abraham Catalan, one of the many sons of the Jewish community of Padua. I was born right here, in the year 1595. From an early age, the desire to unravel the mysteries of the world began to illuminate my path. My thirst for knowledge led me to pursue studies in medicine and alchemy, delving into ancient texts in search of forgotten wisdom. Throughout my life, I have devoted countless hours to studying, researching and understanding the natural world around me.
In the time in which I lived, the 17th century, life for the Padua Jewish community was extremely hard and demanding, but at the same time unique. Padua, in fact, was at that time the only European city where Jews could graduate from university. This represented a cultural revolution, because it allowed Christians and Jews to interact on an almost equal basis. However, in this academic atmosphere, there were still instances where Jewish students faced discrimination and prejudice.
One such example was the 'fee' that Jewish students, including myself, had to pay to our Christian colleagues after graduation. This represented an unfair burden placed on our shoulders. A burden we laboriously dragged along through resilience and the power of faith. We Jewish students were studying medicine at the same time as Torah, devoting ourselves to two different worlds. In spite of the challenges we faced, many Jewish students persevered and from 1517 to 1619 some 80 Jews obtained medical degrees at the University of Padua.
This inclusive environment also attracted Jews from Germany, Poland and the Levant who came to study in Padua. We formed a close-knit community within the city, finding comfort and strength in each other's company.
However, occasional unrest arose as some Christian medical students were unaware of the cultural sensitivity surrounding autopsies on deceased Jews. To prevent this practice, we Jews paid large sums, up to 100 lire annually, to the Studium Patavinum, the university, as a precautionary measure. Despite these efforts, incidents related to this problem continued to occur in the 16th and 17th centuries.
In the midst of our unique struggles and dynamics within the city, tragedy struck our beloved Padua in the form of the plague. In 1630-31, the plague devastated our community, leaving death and despair in its wake. I, along with three other Jewish doctors, was in charge of monitoring living conditions in the ghetto and taking the necessary measures to contain the contagion.
At that time, 727 people resided in the ghetto of Padua and as many as 634 were affected by the plague. Unfortunately, 421 of our brothers and sisters succumbed to its deadly grip. The extent of the devastation forced us to bury the dead in mass graves, leaving few traces of their existence in the cemetery.
It was a dark and difficult time, as we witnessed first-hand the suffering and mourning of our community. We did our best to provide medical care and comfort to those affected by the disease, struggling against both the physical and emotional toll it took on our people.
Despite the restrictions imposed on Jewish doctors, who were not allowed to practice outside the ghetto, the authorities sometimes turned a blind eye to this rule in such desperate times. There was a realisation that our expertise and dedication were needed to alleviate the suffering of all people, regardless of their faith.
Braving the black shadow of the plague, our community remained united, finding strength in shared experiences, prayer and faith. Learning from our history, we clung to each other, supporting each other, facing the despair that surrounded us through the strength of hope. The black caps that we Jewish medical students could wear, just like our Christian colleagues, symbolised the unity we felt, transcending the barriers society had imposed on us.
Thinking back to those tumultuous years, the wind that drifts through the streets of Padua still whispers a melody composed of mute syllables, aimed at recalling years in which the ghetto and the entire city were pervaded by a profound sadness for the lives lost and the pain endured.
But it was through that pain that I found solace in my research. I gathered a wealth of knowledge, combining my medical experience with an empathetic spirit as I sought to understand and combat this implacable adversary. Thus was born the manuscript treatise entitled ''Olàm Hafùch'', whose pages contain the wisdom and experiences gained during those dark days.
Although it remained unpublished as long as I lived, I often dreamt that one day my work would reach the hands of future generations, shedding light on the sad reality of that time. As a testimony to the indomitable will of the human spirit to fight despair, the manuscript contains not only a scientific analysis of the plague but also testimonies of the courage, sacrifice and resilience of my fellow citizens.
However, the seed planted by myself and other luminaries of science and faith allowed the entire community to endure and continue to exist through resilience and the bonds that developed within our community. The struggles we faced during the plague and the challenges we encountered as Jewish individuals in Padua indelibly etched a fundamental chapter in our collective history, reminding us of our common humanity and the power of solidarity.
As I reflect on my life, which came to an end in the year 1642, I realise that true fulfilment lies not simply in the number of achievements or accolades attained, but in the preservation and sharing of knowledge for the progress of all humanity, in a journey of harmony and inclusion.
And so, my dear visitor, as you are here today, I invite you to remember me not for what I have been as an individual, but for the profound meaning of my existence, represented by my story and the words unspoiled in the pages of ''Olàm Hafùch''. May my testimony serve as a tribute to the resilience of the human spirit, a reminder that even in the darkest times, the light of knowledge can guide us to a brighter future.