Figuring it Out

The thing about being me, is that I have very few of the major chagim as an "observant" Jew under my belt. Every time the High Holidays or Pesach or some other major Jewish holiday rolls around, I freak out. I almost ignore the impending bigness in order to not freak out. I get nervous because I don't even have as many "sort of" observant holidays in my past as many secular Jews do. I stopped eating pork and shellfish probably seven years ago, before I found a (Reform) rabbi or a (Reform) shul, but I didn't take on observing the chagim seriously until probably three years ago. I might have fasted on Yom Kippur, but not seriously. I might have considered the idea of Pesach and stopped eating bread, but the rest? Nah. And Sukkot? Well, I probably have the least experience with this multi-faceted time of year.

Last year, I was in the community in Connecticut, I was sukkah hopping, I was running out in the rain with challah and sparlic (parsley + garlic + olive oil) in tow, just for a b'racha. The funny thing is, I didn't really understand last year that as a woman, I'm not bound to the mitzvah of sukkah, but getting soaked for the sake of a bracha was worth it. Simchat Torah last year was my first real one, in which I watched people dance with the Torah and rejoice in Judaism. It was a lively, unforgettable experience.

But still, this year, I was unprepared. I've never had these holidays to myself, in my own home, with my own rules and my own plans. Overwhelmed, is how I felt.

The community put up a communal sukkah, and most of the couples in the apartments headed family-bound. Overall I'd say there were probably about six or seven couples around, and enough men to make a minyan. I made lunch plans for Thursday and Friday with some awesome friends who were hanging around, and I began to panic: What are the rules for the communal sukkah? How big is it? Are there chairs? Tables? Do we sign up? Do we have to wait for a place to sit? Are there lights? How do we wash outside? And the list goes on and on ... I panicked. Over meals in a hut.

Luckily, everything came together fine, despite Mother Nature's wrath the moment the chag started. Yes, a storm of the likes of that one that smacked Brooklyn (although, in truth, not as bad) hit us out of nowhere. Luckily, Tuvia and I had decided to not eat in the sukkah because my allergies were killer. We saved ourselves half the roof caving in and the extreme and fast downpour. The next day we hit up the sukkah and saw the damage, which was significant, but half the sukkah was in working order. We had several more meals there, until Saturday around lunchtime when the winds picked up and, while sitting in the sukkah, I made the executive decision to exit the sukkah as the walls were shaky. Just as I started to pack up, more of the ceiling came crashing down, along with a couple two-by-fours.

But the experience? Outstanding. Unique. Special.

Sitting in a sort-of functional sukkah, we joined a large group of families that ate most of their meals together, an older couple with a challah cover that seemed ages-old, a guy who came for kiddush and motzi ("how lucky women are!") and another awesome couple with the most amazing second-night idea: cheese, crackers, and salad (no worry about preparing here, folks). We had our separate food, our separate dishes and plates and cups, but we all ate together, swatting mosquitoes (it was far too hot) and laughing at the same jokes. We were eavesdropping on one another, but conversing with one another. We were all together, separately. It was a powerful, communal experience. Chag sameachs abounded and offers of shared food followed. We were a tiny drop of the worldwide Jewish experience, sitting in huts, eating our food, laughing, and praying.

In the end, the tiny things didn't matter, and just being there did.

I suppose it will be years and years before I get adjusted to knowing how to do the chagim. Every year will come with anxieties and pressures, and the moment I have children I'm sure I'll freak out all over again over food and time and choreography. But the moment the candles are lit, everything stops, and it is that that matters most, for which I am most thankful. For which being Jewish comes fully to a head.

Chag Sameach!

I have a few posts in the que -- including an awesome sweepstakes that y'all will love. But for now, I just wanted to say CHAG SUKKOT SAMEACH to you all, and I hope that the first few days and Shabbos are filled with simcha and plenty of guests.

Someday I'll be able to sleep in the sukkah ... but this year? Not in the communal one (how does that work, anyway? do they put up a mechitzah?). Hopefully next year we'll be out in the Poconos and can build our own sukkah and rock it out. Maybe even invite people out!

My sheitel makes its National Television Debut!

I was secretly hoping that there would be a Sukkot-related craft segment yesterday in honor of my attendance at the live taping of The Martha Stewart Show. Alas, there wasn't. I did, however, get a sukkah full of Sukkot goodness yesterday at Sukkah City in Union Square in New York City. Have I blown your mind with information sans details yet? Let me elaborate.

The awesome Esti Berkowitz set me up with the opportunity to be in Martha's first Twitter section in which we'd get the opportunity to live tweet the show from our seats. I've live tweeted plenty of events before, most of them tech events, but this was a truly one-of-a-kind experience. I arrived at the studio yesterday around 8:30 a.m., stood in line for a while, was herded into a nice little waiting room, jazzed up in spirit and personality by the stage pro Joey, and then? We were taken in to the special Twitter section. The awesome part? There were only eight of us! We were in the front two rows (four in each row) of the audience, and in no time, the show was rolling. Between the second and third segment, Martha -- THE Martha Stewart -- actually spoke to us! Yes, she gave a shout-out to us, asked us if we were having fun, and thanked us for being there. Coming in and out of commercial breaks, there we were, Twittering away. The show featured eclectic fashion icon Iris Apfel and a variety of tips on consignment shopping (something I'm not a huge fan of largely because consignment clothes = really small). The show ended, they filmed a few promos and the intro to the episode set for Friday, and I was off.

I took a serious schlep (past an awesome  hat store that I wanted to raid, but, unfortunately, wholesale only -- hat business in my future?) and ended up at the subway, which I took down to South Union Square to meet up with my co-workers for a play day at Sukkah City. Unable to locate them once I was there, I decided to take a boatload of pictures and stand-by. Finally, I caught up with them, we schmoozed and discussed the exhibit, and then I was back to work. End scene of the coolest day.

I have a lot to say about Sukkah City, but I'll keep it short and give y'all some photos to ooo and aww over. Although the pamphlet at the main booth (which, by the way, didn't scream "information booth") had a little spiel on the back about what a sukkah is, but it neglected to say anything about it being Sukkot or that the holiday was a Jewish one. In fact, the word "Jewish" didn't exist at the Sukkah City display, and unless you went to the info booth, you probably left wondering what the heck a sukkah even was, outside of something to interpret in gnarly ways. I admire the organizers for putting together such an amazing contest that had such far-reaching entries, which also allowed for artists and architects the world over to really examine and explore what a sukkah is, as well as what a lot of the requirements (halakah) for a sukkah are. Word has it they even had an Orthodox rabbi on-staff to consult. The great thing about the exhibit was that the people exploring it were many and they were diverse -- student groups from a Solomon Schechter school, an adult group with rabbi in tow, and countless hipsters with fancy cameras snapping shot after shot with the perfect light. I was left wondering, however, if the exhibit made that all-too-common move of not being too Jewish. I think of Hillel here, which, on most campuses, tends to be scared to death of being too Jewish and scaring off its student body. Events tend to be "let's go bowling, oh, and you're Jewish, so, you know, that's cool, too." Social events for Jews, not Jewish events for socializing. New York City, after all, is full of Jews, and perhaps the assumption was that people would just know what the exhibit was about and for. In the end, I would have liked them to give a reference point -- hey, it's Sukkot starting Wednesday, hence the exhibit being now and here.

And now? Pictures!


Created with flickr slideshow from softsea.

Coming Full Circle.

Over the weekend, on Sunday to be precise (Yom Rishon), I finished my cycle of holidays as someone studying for a conversion to Orthodox Judaism. Interestingly, it was Simchat Torah – the day in which we take out the Torah, dance around the shul with it, singing songs, and inevitably roll the scroll back to the beginning, to Bereshit. Simchat Torah also is my Hebrew birthday. Technically, that is. I’m not sure if it really counts since I wasn’t born a Jew (although, let it be known, I was born WITH this big Jewish soul of mine). I was born September 30, 1983, and that, folks was Simchat Torah! I keep coming full circle, and Sunday was just another way that I’ve done this. It also means I’ve finished my obligation to fulfill a complete cycle of Jewish holidays in my community. Amen.

I can’t really describe how Sukkot , Shemini Atzeret, and Simchat Torah were. The funny thing about being observant is that I can’t use cameras on the holidays. Now, I’m a big picture-taker. I like to capture the beautiful and special moments in my life. I wish I could have captured so many small moments. Small things.

For example, it rained here last Saturday, a lot. The rabbi discussed how we aren’t obligated to eat in the sukkah if it’s raining cats and dogs, so we resigned ourselves to NOT eating in the sukkah. But for dinner that night, before we entered the second day of Sukkot, we grabbed the challah, ran out into the sukkah – the whole family, the kids, the guests, everyone – to say a blessing in the sukkah. Someone even brought out the green stuff (parsley, garlic, olive oil) for dipping!

Or take the erev Simchat Torah, on Saturday, when I held the Torah, dancing around, women in a circle around me, hopping and smiling and laughing, clapping and singing. That thing was heavy. The men were doing the same dances, the same songs, just on the other side of the bimah, which served as our mechitzah. The joint was jumping, and the musical musings of Harmonia were keeping us all on our toes. We then headed outside for the second to last hakafot, it was dark and cool, and the entire congregation was outside singing and dancing. There was a busload of people unloading at the church across the street, probably looking at us like we were absolutely off our rockers. But we danced on the cool, damp grass and the teenagers kept the songs loud and vibrant. I had started to feel pains in my knees (as was expected, since they sort of lack cartilage) and I walked away, leaning against one of the pillars by the entrance. I started to cry, just a little bit. It was the most beautiful site – the community, dancing with Torot, singing loudly, laughing, joking. It was a moment of complete bliss, a true wedding of Israel and the word of G-d in the Torah. But then I got a little lightheaded and had to sit down.

I wish I could have captured those moments. Click. Snap. Perfection.

There was, of course, the sukkah hop last Sunday. It was geared toward the kids, but plenty of adults carried on with the kids. We walked from sukkah to sukkah to sukkah, hopping along to five in the neighborhood that were nothing alike. The kids, having arrived at the fourth sukkah, complained that the goods being offered – grapes and nuts – weren’t “cool.” I assured them that there were plenty of goods at the next location and boy were they stoked. They were greeted with cookies, twizzlers, and every other sweet snack known to man.

On the note of sweets, I’m intrigued by the massive quantities of sweets that flooded the shul during Simchat Torah. M&Ms, Snickers, Nilla Wafers … the sugar high these kids (and some adults) must have been on definitely fueled the dancing. The sticky mess on the floor reminded me of movie theaters and I definitely wish I could have snapped a photo of the little girl I was holding, as she gnawed away at a lollipop (got to save her from swallowing something badly and choking, blech).

There was also the rabbi, dancing with the young guys, and his wife, whose energy I can only dream of, leading dancing with the women.

It was interesting. It was intense. It was unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. Never before did I eat in the sukkah, never before did I dance with the Torah, never before did I watch a group of women reading from the sefer Torah privately with a dozen other women, never before did I experience Simchat Torah. The past two weeks were new to me, fresh, and beautiful. It was as if the entire community came alive. After all of the holidays, all of the time in synagogue, all of the busy houses and guests, and in those moments everyone was dancing and singing – alive!

Of course, now we’re all exhausted, trying to recover from the holidays. They were long, they were busy, but they were more than worth it. After all, we reaffirmed everything when it comes to being Jewish. It’s that starting point where we’re all anew. We’ll sleep a lot, relish in not having another major holiday until Pesach, and swear to ourselves that we won’t eat as much in the coming Shabboses.

Snapshots are nice. I think that memories sometimes lose their vibrancy without photographs, but they remain memories nonetheless. And when it comes down to it, it is better to simply keep memories because when they’re just memories, you have to maintain them. You have to constantly remember them, their emotions, their every moment.

The Etrog of My Heart

Today, I did something I have never done before. I took some steps, into a structure, and did something that I have wanted to do for so long, yet, haven't had the chance to go through with.

I was on my way to the cafeteria for some lunch before my 12:30, and it was about 11:45. On my way I passed through the graduate quad and saw a table set up outside the pop-up sukkah, so I decided to pop by and see if I could get my lulav shaking on. Lo and behold, there was the fellow who got the sukkah put up doing some prayers. I stood off to the side, not wanting to intrude, and he came out of the sukkah, gestured for me to go in. He handed me the lulav, and delicately opened the little white box to reveal the etrog cradled gently in foam. He took it out and handed it to me, directing me on how to hold the two objects in my hands, but silently.

He opened his siddur, which, might I add, was all in Hebrew/English and lacking transliterations, and pointed to the prayers as I read them aloud -- in Hebrew -- while holding the objects. He then directed me in the movements of the objects: forward, to the heart, forward, to the heart ... and so on. The rustling of the lulav was accomplished with the most subtle of movements, and as I pulled the lulav and etrog toward me, it was as if the etrog were thrusting itself through to my heart, placing itself in my chest chambers, and moving back out with each movement.

And when I was done, the kindly fellow asked me if I'd said the Shema yet, and I hadn't, so he pointed me in the siddur where to go, and I read the Shema and some other things and then we talked about why I haven't been by the rabbi's for Shabbat, how women aren't bound to the Sukkot requirements, etc. And then? I plodded off, listening to the band Beirut, and got some lunch while reading some documents he'd given me about Sukkot, Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah (adorned with the rebbe's likeness and what have you).

When we were talking, and when the ritual was being performed, I couldn't smell or think of anything but the potency of the etrog. Because of it's shape, the etrog (a citron, sorta like a lemon), is said to resemble the heart. It is meant to represent the ideal Jew -- one who has both knowledge of Torah and good deeds, as the etrog is both pleasant in taste and in smell.

And, perhaps, when I felt that thump in my heart as I brought the etrog and lulav toward me, I was longing to be that ideal Jew, the one with a balance of Torah and deeds. The Jew I am in my dreams of Hasidic teachings and the Jew who will daven.

Forward I go, and with that -- Chag Sameach!

Sick and Not in the Sukkah.

Well, I hope your Sukkot is going better than mine. I've been sick essentially since I woke up Sunday in a beautiful house hidden away in the Poconos. By late Sunday and early Monday, I was practically comatose. I didn't go to Hebrew class, and I spent most of Monday and Tuesday in bed, schluffing around in my comfy pants and going through boxes of Kleenex. But now? I'm feeling quite a bit better, as my illin' has been relegated mostly to utter congestion and some minor issues of breathing.

But the days of sickness gave me a lot of time to read, and read I have. About what? The golden calf of course! It's interesting how many random roads I've trekked down thanks to my recently heightened research. For example, there was a period of time where the golden calf episode wasn't mentioned in synagogues in Israel (we're talking way, way back in the day, like 2nd century CE) -- known as a "tradition of concealment." I can't seem to find much on it, though. Then there are three writers who "rewrote" the incident in their own unique ways, the two well-known among them being Philo and Josephus. The former brushed around the incident of idolatry, because to him the purpose of the incident was to emphasize the choosing of the Levites as the auxiliary priesthood. The latter, Josephus, bypassed the entire episode in his writing -- why? Probably because of the anti-Jewish mockery by writers of the time. Josephus likely wanted to keep his gentile readers from getting certain "impressions" about Jews and animal worship. Then there are all these avenues of thought about how the incident wasn't a violation of the first commandment, but rather just of the second since it was creating an image/likeness of what is on "the earth below," but that it was meant either as G-d or Moses, but either way the people weren't replacing G-d, but rather were worshiping ... well ... that's a whole other story.

Anyway, I'm getting excited. I just need to ORGANIZE my thoughts. We'll see how I feel after our grad student meeting tomorrow when we reveal where our research is taking us.

I hope you all are enjoy Sukkos, and I'm stoked for Simchat Torah :)

Getting Ready to SHAKE it!

What an interesting weekend I had down in the Poconos with Evan. We saw a bear by the side of the road in the community, not to mention wild turkeys wandering around someone's driveway. We stopped at a most magnificent waterfall (which you see pictured here and which you can see more of over on my Flickr ), and we spent most of one day this weekend at a flea market/craft fair/harvest festival where I procured some delicious jams/spreads from some nice Quaker girls (who had a yummy-looking loaf of challah that I resisted buying).

The weekend was all around beautiful and relaxing, and the services at the shul in the community were, well, interesting. I got nothing spiritually from them, but they were amusing in that the chazzan was funny and had some interesting things to say (he even brought up "Mallrats," which no one seemed to know about except the chazzan, Evan and I). But there was probably a 40-50 year age gap between us and the rest of the people there, though there was a mighty showing, it being an older community. They used the old -- we're talking the ORIGINAL -- Reform siddur, which made me want to cry, but the building was beautiful and the company was nice and the chazzan was plenty friendly. We will probably go back, I just have to figure out a way to do my prayers on my own. I think it's time to suck it up and buy myself that transliterated Artscroll so I can daven solo-style.

At any rate, the sukkah is up in the grad courtyard and we did some l'chaims earlier to celebrate it's construction. It's incredibly tall and was purchased from PopUpSukkah.com, but it'll get the job done for what we need. I spent the afternoon mulling about with the Chabad rabbi's youngest boy (age 2-ish) who ... wow ... I want 10 just like him. I can't understand a word he said, but we were looking at water in a drain pipe and watching planes dart across the sky leaving smokey skies behind. I got him to start saying "bye bye! bye bye!" while waving frantically and it was seriously the cutest thing I have ever seen. So tomorrow evening begins Sukkot -- also known as Sukkos or the Feast of Tabernacles/Booths -- and I'll be spending my time probably at the Chabad rabbi's place for dinner and services on Tuesday morning since I'm not sure what Hillel is doing and I can't seem to get enough of the wee one (and the older one calls me Chava and Ahava, which amuses me but I'm down with it cuz he's cool).

So with Sukkot approaching, I implore everyone to quickly get a copy of Ushpizin (one of my most FAVORITE MOVIES) and watch it with joy. It is THE Sukkot movie, and if you haven't seen it, you're really missing out.

This will be my first "observant" Sukkot ... and I'm stoked. I'm ready to get my shake on -- are you? The only thing is, I've never done the shakin' before and I don't know the rules and regulations ... good thing I found this video! (Not!)







Moadim l'simcha!

Did I vanish?

No, I didn't vanish. I've been busy with work, Yom Kippur, being sick, getting well and analyzing my career/life path for the not-so-distant future. There's thoughts of grad school being tossed around this noggin (Baltimore Hebrew University, that is), in addition to all the other stuff that consumes me in all my free time. I figured it up that out of the 168 hours in the week, I have about 70 of those where I am neither sleeping nor working to just sit and be completely, absolutely worthless. So I purchased two books today.

1) Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer: I checked this book out from UNL's library shortly after it was released, but with all my reading and efforts to finish my senior thesis and graduate, I didn't have time to read it. Thus I didn't really enjoy it, especially after getting through Everything is Illuminated -- possibly one of the best books I have ever read. It was absolutely magnificent, so getting into ELIC was sort of hard. Summary: It's about a little boy whose father dies in the WTC during 9/11, complete with mini "flip book" of man falling from the WTC (sort of horrifying).
2) Fabulous Small Jews by Joseph Epstein: I believe I read a review of this in Commentary magazine. It was either that or in one of my other Jewish rags. Summary: It's a collection of short stories by a man who has written for the New Yorker, Harper's, Atlantic Monthly and has a NYT bestseller called Snobbery.

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Today was the start of Sukkot. I've decided that when I get married and have children I'll be building my own sukkah, no matter how wacky the neighbors think I am. Now what, you ask, is a sukkah? Well, this cute little Popsicle sukkah is the best example of a sukkah that I have for you. Sukkot means "booths" and is a festival of the booths in honor of the harvest. It's a four-sided little hut with three vertical walls and a ceiling that cannot be made solid, which means that you must be able to sit in the sukkah and peer into the heavens and see the stars. Some people use latticework to create the sukkah ceiling, then covering it with leaves. It's a 7 or 8 day holiday that includes lots of feasting and hanging out in the sukkah. I'm sort of glad I don't have a sukkah right now, though, as it's cold and rainy in D.C. -- definitely NOT sukkah weather unless you have a sukkah space heater and some umbrellas. The final day of sukkot is Shemini Atzeret and soon after is Simchat Torah -- a stellar holiday that finalizes the reading of the Torah for the year, which sends you back to Genesis to start all over again (Jews cycle through the whole Torah each year, though some Conservatives and Orthodox take 3 years to read the whole Torah -- that is, they read only PORTIONS of each Torah section and spend 3 years completely getting through the Torah, though they still celebrate the beginning-to-end of Simchat Torah).

Sukkot also includes the use of the Four Species -- lalav, hadass, etrog and araveh -- which are used during prayers and also adorn the sukkah (it's part of the whole harvest thing). Of course there's biblical precedence for this: "And you shall take for yourself on the first day the fruit of goodly (meaning of Hebrew uncertain, but modern Hebrew "citrus") trees, branches of palm trees, and boughs of thick trees, and willows of the brook" (Lev. 23:40).

Essentially the holiday is a reminder of the travails and travels in the desert (for 40 gall darn years) before entering the land. You eat in the sukkah, call it home and hang out in thanks for G-d's protection during the wandering. Who WOULDN'T want a sukkah, eh?