Russian Jews Rediscover Tradition of Hanukkah : Heritage: Social and legal barriers kept emigres from practicing, or even learning, ceremonies in their homeland.

Eight-year-old Julie Kuzinits blew softly at the flames that danced atop the Hanukkah menorah, her palms held out gingerly to catch the heat. Watching her with bemusement at the Jewish Federation campus here Sunday, Emily Kuzinits smiled a mother’s smile.

These were all small bits of Jewish custom: a brightly lit menorah, a small top--or “dreidle”--dotted with Hebrew letters, a chocolate coin wrapped in gold foil. But for the Kuzinits, a family of Jewish-Russian emigres who came to Orange County less than a year ago from St. Petersburg and had never celebrated Hanukkah, it was all part of a new and foreign culture.

Emily Kuzinits, 46, was born Jewish, but she said the legal and social barriers in her homeland meant that a few Jewish dishes were about all she ever knew of her heritage.

“If you’re Jewish in Russia, you have a lot of trouble all your life,” she said. “Nobody really practiced the traditions--nobody. I didn’t know what they were. I did not know Judaism in my life.”

Until now. For the Kuzinitses and 35 other Jewish families who are recently arrived from Russia, Sunday marked a coming out of sorts, as members of the Orange County Jewish community hosted what for many of the guests was their first openly celebrated Hanukkah.

The guests hummed along to Hebrew songs and watched children put on traditional dance numbers. They cheered as a local Jewish leader, in a halting bit of Russian, greeted them with the shout Dobro pozhalovat --”Welcome.”

They enjoyed Hanukkah delicacies and watched in delight as their children opened coloring books, toys and other gifts from the community. And chiefly, they received a quick lesson on the customs and meaning of Hanukkah.

Hanukkah--or the “Festival of Lights,” as it is also known--commemorates the rededication of the Second Temple of Jerusalem after the Jews’ military victory over the Syrians in 165 B.C.

Jewish history teaches that in cleansing the temple of Syrian idols, the Jews found only enough oil to light their holy lamps for one day--but the oil miraculously lasted eight. As a result, the holiday is remembered by lighting an eight-candle menorah--one candle for each day of the holiday.

Hanukkah does not begin until sundown Wednesday, but officials at the Jewish Family Service of Orange County, the Jewish Community Center of Orange County and the women’s division of the Jewish Federation of Orange County--the groups hosting Sunday’s program--wanted to give the emigres enough lead time to put their newly learned traditions into practice.

“This is our way to introduce the festival of Hanukkah,” said Charlene Edwards, the director of social services at the Jewish Family Service, who works with many families among an estimated 5,000 Jewish-Russian emigres in Orange County.

“They’ve never had the opportunity to learn about Hanukkah or to observe it,” she said. “Despite glasnost, (Russian Jews) still have a lot of fear about speaking out.”

Indeed, emigres at Sunday’s program said that while the last few years have seen marked improvements in a society once notorious for its hostility toward Jews, barriers still remain.

Pera Shnitser, 70, who came to Orange County with her family a year ago, said she would occasionally mark the Passover holiday with a bit of matzo--unleavened bread. But that was as far as her Jewish traditions usually went, she said.

To her, the burning of her mailbox in an apartment building in which she was the only Jew was a sign that Jews were still not entirely welcome in Russia, she said in an interview as her granddaughter, Svetlana, 16, translated.

“We didn’t want people to know” that the family was Jewish, she said. “Only within the doors,” she said as a troupe of young Jewish-Russian emigres from the Los Angeles area performed a dance number a few feet away from her table. “I feel like here, I can celebrate without closing the doors.”

Liana Vysotskaya, 37, said ignorance is the main problem for Russian Jews. She and her husband emigrated to Mission Viejo with their three children three months ago to reunite with her sister, and Vysotskaya said she can already sense a difference in religious vitality.

“Maybe my parents, they were afraid, so their children don’t know anything about the holidays. They simply don’t know, so there is no tradition now,” she said. “I never hid that I’m a Jewish woman, but I didn’t feel myself as a Jewish woman. I didn’t know enough.”

Joseph Kuzinits, 46, who works as an electrician and lives with his family in Costa Mesa, said he had heard something about Hanukkah while living in Russia, but that was about all. So he and his wife could only watch in amazement as their daughter Julie lit the menorah Sunday.

Asked how it felt to watch a sight that was so unknown to them in Russia, Emily Kuzinits fumbled for words. Finally, she said simply: “It’s a great Jewish day.”