“I think we are Jews.” The thought crystallized during a conference Sonya Loya attended in Glorieta during 1999 where others were exploring their Jewish roots. It was a turning point for the Ruidoso resident who was raised Catholic. Looking back on the conference, she remembers trying to avoid a woman who dogged her, persistently asking questions about her family. Polite at first, Loya finally asked: “Why do you want to know?”

“Because it sounds like you are from the Marranos,” she answered.

“I was already annoyed with her, and now she is calling me a pig?” Loya said in a recent interview. “But she explained it was a historical term referring to those who converted to Christianity from Judaism during the Inquisition.”

Spain’s persecution of heretics culminated in 1391 when Jews were given the ultimatum to become Catholic or be killed. Those who converted were known as “conversos,” a term applied to their descendants as well. While some Jews turned to Christianity voluntarily, others resisted, observing Jewish beliefs behind closed doors. The latter group became known as Crypto-Jews. Their existence presented a perceived threat to such an extent that in 1479 King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain enacted the Spanish Inquisition with the specific aim of eliminating Crypto-Judaism. Torture was used to obtain confessions, and heresy trials were held. For those found guilty, sentences included acquittal (rare), forced labor, confiscation of property and corporal punishment. In cases where the accused had been tried but relapsed, the punishment could mean being burned at the stake.  Edicts were disseminated across the land encouraging neighbors, friends and family members to report possible Judaizers. Finally, in 1492, all Jews were ordered into exile. It is estimated that as many as 300,000 Jews were murdered, converted to Christianity or fled Spain.

Many conversos immigrated to Portugal and then to Mexico, but the persecution did not end. An extension of the Inquisition was established in 1571 in New Spain, which included Mexico, parts of Central America and what is now the southwestern portion of the United States. Twenty seven years later, Juan de Oñate led an expedition of colonists north into modern-day New Mexico. On the journey were members with the same surnames listed as being under investigation by the Mexican Inquisition. As subsequent trade routes, including the El Camino Real, were established, many families, including those who were Crypto-Jews, some banding together in solidarity, settled in enclaves along the way. Today their ancestors still inhabit rural areas including small villages north of Santa Fe and along the borderlands. According to Frances Hernández in “The Secret Jews of the Southwest,” there may be as many as 1,500 Hispano families in New Mexico with legitimate claims to these original conversos. Given the secretive nature of those involved and shifting interpretations of what it means to be a converso, however, this number is far from absolute. What is apparent is that there are families in the area who may not be aware of their Jewish heritage.

Loya returned to Ruidoso from the conference in Glorieta and intensified her research into church history and the Inquisition. She found www.sephardim.com (currently www.sephardim.co), a genealogy website listing Sephardic (Sephard being the Hebrew word for Spanish) surnames, including her own and started reading about Jewish rituals and traditions.

Her sources included Vatican documents. Ironically, the fervor that took root during the Inquisition, including systematically writing down the practices of Crypto-Jews as a sort of field guide for informers, now serve as a trove of information into what went on behind closed doors centuries ago.

“I thought it was normal to light two candles on Shabbat (the period of time just before sunset on Friday through Saturday nightfall). I didn’t know it was a Jewish ritual. I remember my grandmother covered her head and prayed facing the east, three times a day. I just thought Granny was a really holy Catholic,” Loya said, laughing.

Among other customs she remembers were her grandmother teaching Loya’s mother how to check eggs for blood, her father bleeding meat after butchering the animal by slitting its throat in a humane way, removing the sciatic nerve, salting the meat and then saying a prayer as the blood was buried. Dirt was swept into the middle of the floor, never crossing the threshold, in fear of desecrating a mezuzah that might be hanging on the doorframe. Cleaning often took place on Friday, so there would be no chores on Saturday. Some rituals reflected the age-old fear of being reported to the Inquisition: windows were routinely closed and curtains drawn so neighbors could not see in.

When her great grandmother was dying, Loya’s grandmother and her two sisters were sent to retrieve the family priest.

“That is another clue—the oldest son in the family was a priest to keep an eye out for the Inquisition and to make the Church believe that these families were totally Catholic,” Loya said.

“My great grandmother requested that her feet be facing the east when she died, which is a Jewish custom. And she was buried the next day. My mother said that they washed her body and said special prayers, but she doesn’t remember what those prayers were.”

Her father remembered being taught special prayers by his grandmother too, but he does not remember them either. He was aware, however, of the stigma of being Jewish. When Loya’s father was six years old, his uncles came back from World War II. One of them had been involved in the liberation of the concentration camps. He saw Sephardic names and told his family that it was still not safe to be Jewish. Loya’s father was sworn then and there not to tell of their heritage. It was a secret he kept for over 60 years.

“The word Crypto-Jew comes from the term “encrypted” which means hidden or secret,” Loya said. “My father was a Crypto-Jew. I am not. I am not hiding anything.”

Today in New Mexico, more and more Catholic families are finding out about their hidden Jewish roots, but their discoveries have been met with skepticism by some in the Judaic community. There are religious leaders who believe that only those born of a Jewish mother are considered Jewish. Conversion requirements typically depend on a particular branch of Judaism, and recognition is not always guaranteed by other denominations. Additionally there are conversos who do not feel the need to convert since, after all, their families have been practicing for centuries.

DNA testing has been used to uncover Sephardic links. Bennett Greenspan launched the Family Tree DNA website that merges genetics and genealogy. Building on the University of Arizona’s research that a certain Y chromosome pattern of markers was present in many men who could trace their ancestry to Ashkenazic (Central and Eastern Europe) and Sephardic groups, Family Tree DNA offers genetic testing to the general public.

Loya’s father and brother took the test (only men have Y chromosomes). The genetic link was confirmed, erasing any doubt to the family’s Jewish ancestry.

Recently Sonya Loya’s story was part of New Mexico History Museum’s “Fractured Faiths: Spanish Judaism, The Inquisition and New World Identities” exhibit. One of the last images viewers saw was a small multi-media sculpture by Loya that embodies her journey. An accomplished artist, she continues to create and sell jewelry and fused glass pieces, many incorporating Jewish symbols, in Hosanna’s, her shop and gallery in Ruidoso.

Together with Ashley Perry, Director General of the Knesset Caucus for the Reconnection with the Descendants of Spanish and Portuguese Communities and president of Reconectar, an organization also advocating for Sephardic Jews, Loya is currently focusing on organizing trips to Israel for those interested in learning about their ancestral home. Participants must be converts, over 18 years old and must meet the criteria of the Law of Return, legislation created allowing Jews to live in and become citizens of Israel.  Her Aliyah tours, named for the goal of many Jews to return to Israel permanently, can accommodate 20 to 30 people and will last approximately a week. Part of the trip will be to sites; the rest will be spent helping with immigration details and the reality of day-to-day living.

It is a big step for a woman in South Central New Mexico who is about to commit to life in a very different part of the world. But then again, for someone who has unearthed and embraced so much already, the next phase of her life may become the most serene and familiar since, finally, Sonya Loya will be going home.