Pesach is not only about food bans and kitchen anxieties. Entire books have been written about the many colourful and interesting customs of different Jewish communities.

The seder itself is marked by many different customs. Iraqi and Kurdish Jews begin the seder with a dramatic dialogue. One of the children goes outside, knocks on the door and then answers the questions of the seder leader: “Where have you come from?” “Egypt.” “Where are you going?” “To Jerusalem.” “What are your supplies?”

The child answers by reciting the Four Questions, thereby opening the seder.

A similar custom is observed by Yemenite Jews, who perform a symbolic re-enactment of the Exodus. The seder leader gets up from the table, throws the afikoman in its bag over his back like a knapsack, walks around the room leaning on a cane and relates to those assembled how he has just now come out of Egypt and experienced miracles.

Afghan Jews take a thick, foot-long scallion. As they come to the singing of Dayeinu, each person bangs his onion over the head and arms of his neighbours. Nobody seems to know the origin or rationale of this custom.

Among Sephardi Jews, the blessing on the wine is recited on the first and third cup, whereas Ashkenazim recite it on every cup.

The text of Ashkenazi and Sephardi Haggadot is basically the same, although there are some minor differences. Toward the end of the seder, there is greater freedom and variety among Sephardim. Among some people, the concluding songs may be sung in a variety of languages.

Jews of North African or Asian origin – and some Chassidim whose roots go back to 19th-century Eretz Yisrael – sing Chad Gadya in Judaeo-Arabic. Eastern European Jews have been known to sing a Yiddish version of Echad Mi Yodea (Who Knows One). German Jews sing Adir Hu, the hymn ending in a prayer for the rebuilding of the Temple, in medieval German.

On the last day of Pesach, there are various ways of celebrating and re-enacting the parting of the Red Sea.

In many communities, both Ashkenazi and Sephardi, it’s customary to gather toward midnight in the synagogue or in the town square to recite the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15), with much singing, dancing and rejoicing.

But the question remains: why should Jews continue to observe these customs? Is there no way that the rabbis can unify Jewish practice on such a basic point?

From a halachic perspective, any custom accepted by a community over a significant period of time carries great weight. Time and again, rabbis defend a seemingly inexplicable practice with the reasoning that “this is a venerable custom, observed by communities since earliest times, and one is not to change it.”

I believe that these traditions make us into Am Yisrael. They define our being and link us to our ancestors. Without them, Jews wouldn’t be able to keep their beliefs.

Let us all research and keep our family’s traditions. They’re an integral part of our being.