And one story that always kind of captures my imagination.

The street's lost culture. And you're listening to Kearning cultures.

Back in 2015, some friends and I decided to make a visit to the Ben-Estra synagogue.

It's one of the oldest surviving Jewish temples in Egypt.

This is producer Nadine Schakir.

We took a taxi to Old Cairo and walked through the winding alleys of an area called

Fustadt, down to what looked like a modest, unassuming church.

A bronze plaque at the door read property of the Jewish community in Cairo, and right below

there was the star of David. When we stepped inside, we were the only people there. It wasn't

really a big place, but it had this feel of a sanctuary.

It emitted almost the golden reddish glow when you walked in and had these like really big

marble columns that led up to beautiful wooden altar. The ceilings, when you looked up, were decorated

in traditional patterns and hanging lanterns, it felt like it all'd been

handcrafted. But we really weren't there to marvel at the beauty of the synagogue's architecture.

We were actually looking for what was behind its walls, the Ganesa.

The word Ganesa comes from the Jewish expression, Bates Geniza, which means storage chamber

for texts that were no longer used. As it also is in Islam, it's considered harem or

forbidden to throw away something that might contain the name of God. So for a thousand years,

the Jewish community of Old Cairo had kept all kinds of things in a chamber inside

this synagogue. Religious books, handwritten notes, marriage contracts, love letters, children's

drawings, all inside the Geniza of the Ben Azra Synagogue. And basically, all of this was left

to be buried the same way you would bury a person. At the time, my friends and I were reading

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