Bethlehem, Part 2: Midnight Mass

Last week we received notification through our work e-mail accounts that the consulate had received ten complimentary tickets to accompany the Consul General to the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass held at Bethlehem's Church of the Nativity.

Being Jewish, we found very little religious incentive to go.  However, there is definitely something to be said for once in a lifetime opportunities.  I'm also a sucker for limited edition items, and ten sounded pretty limited to me.  We threw our names in the pot and were mildly surprised to learn Monday afternoon that both of our names were drawn.  Once we thought about it, however, we realized that it probably wasn't as highly a coveted ticket as we had imagined, as people would likely (and rightly) wish to spend Christmas Eve with their families instead of fighting crowds for seating and/or standing room at an hours-long service in a church 40 minutes away from home.  But, as Christmas wasn't an issue for us, we were more than happy to go.

We met up with the eight other lucky suckers winners at the consulate at 10:30PM on Christmas Eve and were promptly shuttled over to Bethlehem, where we received a police escort right to the front curb of the church.  We felt very glamorous as we exited the motorcade vehicles and walked the short distance to the church door, camera lights flashing as if we were arriving on the red carpet of the Academy Awards.  To say there was a strong media presence is a bit of an understatement.  Perhaps I ended up on television somewhere?

We were handed a service program as we entered the church and, as we took our places along the lefthand aisle shortly before 11:30PM, were disheartened to discover that the program was a full 140 pages long.  Thankfully, the program featured multiple languages, so it wan't that bad (Not bad at all; We were walking back to the van by 1:45AM).

The majority of the service was conducted in Latin, so I can't comment much beyond saying everyone appeared to have good diction and that I enjoyed the singing.  I will say that it was very heartwarming to see so many people of a shared faith congregating to sing songs of praise on one of their holiest of holy nights, at their faith's holiest of holy sites.

President of the Palestinian National Authority Mahmoud Abbas was present.  I got a photo of the back of his head.  He's the white haired individual, dead center, behind all of the nuns.  This is a photo taken as he was leaving the service.  I'm ashamed to say that I had a clear shot of him entering, but hesitated.  There was lots of rabble-rabble going on as he entered, but not a lot of camera flashing, and I missed my cue.  TJ and I later debated which of us was to blame, but the outcome is still unclear.  (Since this is my blog, I can state with finality that it lies with him.  Ha!)  Abbas was there primarily to hear the homily delivered by Fouad Twal, Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem.  The transcript can be found here.

At the end of the service, a procession marched down the center aisle on its way to the Grotto of the Nativity, where a sculpture of the baby Jesus, carried by Twal, was to be placed.   I managed to snap one photo of what I *think* was the back of the baby's head.  But probably not.  We didn't make our way down to the grotto, as time did not permit such an activity, but photos of it taken previously can be found in my last entry.

We emerged from the Church to find a captivating view of the Manger Square Christmas Tree.  Although we had seen it on our last trip to Bethlehem, I was not prepared for the gut-punch of awesome that an evening view of it would provide.

It was a beautiful moment in time.  It's something I would never have known that I wanted to experience until it happened, and now I'm ticking it off of my bucket list.

It was (shamefully) the first religious service that we have attended since arriving in Jerusalem, but I know it won't be our last.  While not awakening any long-lost Christian part of my soul, it has certainly sparked a desire to continue my Jewish learning. 

Probably not what the church intended for the service, but it is what it is.  And I thank them for that.

Eight Crazy Weeks: A Chanukah Story

It's so hard to believe that it's already been two full months since we returned from our cruise...and even harder to believe that in two months all I've managed to do is blog about said cruise.

That's not to say that it hasn't been a busy, productive, stressful, and incredibly fun two months. Because it has, lack of photographic evidence to the contrary. Well, there are a few photos, so let's pepper them throughout this post so we can get ourselves caught up in time for 2012, shall we?

Upon returning from our vacation we immediately began work on a "Christmas Around the World" exhibit that the consulate had been invited to install at local children's museum Trompo Mágico. The nicest thing I can say about this is that despite many, many, many unforeseen hurdles (many), the project was completed in time for its early December deadline, and looked nice, if not how originally intended (see hurdles).

Speaking of hurdles, On November 20th, we attended the closing ceremonies of the Parapan American Games, which acted as a nice bookend to our attendance of the Pan American Games opening ceremonies on October 14th. It was an unexpected treat, our having only received the tickets last minute to attend as representatives from the consulate. The ceremony was small, yet fortuitously featured many elements of the closing ceremonies for the Pan American Games, which we had only been able to watch on television. Highlights included a parade paying homage to celebrated Mexican artist Sergio Bustamonte, famous for incorporating sun and moon imagery into his work.

We invited some friends over for Thanksgiving this year. It was important to us that we be able to host a big meal because we hadn't had the opportunity to do so since leaving Orlando in February 2010. Last Thanksgiving we had just arrived in Guadalajara and were graciously invited to share the holiday with a large group of TJ's fellow officers. Now, a full year later, having made extensive efforts to branch out and make local friend, we wanted to share a traditional American Thanksgiving with them. We had a great

turnout, eleven friends in total, none of whom had ever experienced the holiday before. We went all out, preparing turkey, ham, sweet potato casserole (the biggest, most exotic hit), deviled eggs, mac n' cheese, and green bean casserole. We went lazy on dessert and opted to buy pumpkin, pecan, and cherry cheesecake pies from an American run bakery, Jeffrey. Lots of great food and wine were had by all, and we all surely suffered for it at work the following day.

Early December found TJ working with a fellow Entry Level Officer to coordinate and staff a booth for World AIDS Day at a fair being held by several of the HIV/AIDS awareness groups in Guadalajara. These were connections TJ made months earlier while coordinating a film series for LGBT Awareness Month. Prior to these outreach events, these groups had minimal contact with each other, while the existence of some was unknown. It's amazing what this career allows you to accomplish sometimes.

Meanwhile, I was busy organizing a toy and clothing drive that I organized for two worthy causes: a shelter for battered women and children, and a privately run foster home that depends on donations to survive. All told, I was able to collect enough toys to ensure that each of the 40+ kids would have 2-3 new toys each, plus plenty of gently used clothing for the brave women at the shelter, who left their homes quickly to get their children to safety.

In the nine days leading up to Christmas, Catholic and Protestant families in Mexico will host a series of parties called posadas. A posada (Spanish word for Inn) is a party that originated in Spain in which you break piñatas, eat tamales, and reenact, through song, Mary and Joseph's struggle to find lodging on the night of Jesus's birth. Unable to attend any last year due to timing, but very interested in this particular cultural exchange, we were thrilled to find ourselves invited to three such parties this year. One was at a co-workers house, and there were tamales and singing, but no piñatas. One was at a local friend's house, and there were piñatas and singing, but no tamales. Another was at a club, and hosted by one of the groups TJ had worked with during the World AIDS Day outreach. It was your typical holiday party without piñatas, tamales, or singing. This type of party is becoming more common, where you call it a posada simply for taking place in December. Although none of the three featured all of the aspects of a traditional posada, I feel that we gained a very clear image of the holidays in Mexico.

Everyone was so appreciative and responsive to Thanksgiving that we decided to do something similar for Chanukah. But instead of one big party, we wanted to use each of the eight nights to invite a different friend to our dinner table. The first four nights were filled with brisket, latkes, and fried donuts. On the fifth night, we found ourselves hosting a friend whose family lives out of town and had no plans for Christmas. Tired of brisket and fried potatoes, and realizing that for him this was Christmas Eve, we decided to treat him to a traditional holiday meal and whipped up another turkey. But fear not! We spent Christmas Day in the traditional Jewish manner: We grabbed the newest officer to arrive at post and headed to the mall for some P.F. Chang's and a screening of "Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol." It probably goes without saying that the rest of the holiday consisted of delicious turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce sandwiches. Except the last night, when we returned to Jewish culinary inspiration and took our first ever crack at stuffed cabbage.

All in all, it's been a very busy couple of months. Although it was a little more Christmas-influenced that I would have liked, we have accepted that life abroad will require us to open our minds and hearts to all sorts of local traditions. As for Hanukkah, well, it was definitely better than last year. And I certainly can't complain about the good that we have done (or at least hope we have done) for the community lately.

As a write this, the final day of 2011 is quickly coming to a close. In a few short hours, we will be joined by good friends for light snacks and a couple of drinks before taking a taxi to one of the most popular clubs in the city to ring in the new year.

It's so common to hear people say "I sure hope next year is better."

But you know what? 2011 has been a blessing. I do hope that 2012 is better, but if it's merely equal to 2011, I'll be a happy camper.

Have fun tonight, everyone. And most of all, be safe.

The Year Without A Santa Claus

What do Jews do on Christmas? Well, according to Judaism 101, there are a few options:

• Go out for Chinese food
• Go to your local Matzah Ball
• Go to a movie
• Get together with family
• Go to work

That might be great for American Jews holding non-government jobs, but for us US government employees living abroad, that proved to be a bit tricky.

• In the US, non-Christian Chinese-Americans run the Chinese restaurants. Here in Mexico, they are run by Catholic Mexicans, who are most likely not working on Christmas.
• A Matzah Ball is a dumpling made from matzah meal. But in this case, it also refers to a singles dance. Doesn't really apply to us. Maybe next year. Ha!
• We've seen all of the Engish-language movies that we want to see that are currently available at the cinema
• Family is far, far away
• Consulate = government = closed

So, what were a couple of recently converted, newly displaced Jews to do?

Well, thanks to ustvnow.com, we did manage to watch the 27th Annual Disney Parks Christmas Day Parade hosted by Ryan Seacrest.

We joined a coworker for drinks and a holiday film (Four Christmases) last night, and will be joining them again this evening for a delicious Christmas dinner.

Wait. So why, as Jews, are we celebrating Christmas at all? Glad you asked. There are three reasons that come to mind as of this writing.

First, it is perfectly acceptable for people of different faiths to appreciate the customs (music, movies, foods, decorations) of others and to celebrate those customs with family and friends of different backgrounds. Jews do the same when we invite friends and family to our Passover seders.

Second, Christmas is impossible to escape, especially now. In our pre-Jewish, pre-Foreign Service days, TJ and I would decorate an artificial tree, buy each other a few presents, and cook a large meal on the 25th of December. There would be the occasional Secret Santa exchange at the office, but for the most part we kept to ourselves. This year, we have found ourselves attending the Consulate's Christmas Posada, the Consul General's Christmas Party, a wonderfully moving charity Christmas dinner at an orphanage, and a tree-shopping excursion with friends. We have politely declined offers to attend a Christmas potluck dinner, another Christmas party, and two other Christmas Posadas. A large percentage of this occurred in early December, as we fumbled through our first Chanukah by ourselves. The Jewish community in Guadalajara is small, and although we converted under the Reform Movement, there is no Reform Congregation to be found.

Third, it's almost impossible to disassociate with 29 years of personal tradition, especially in light of reasons one and two. I am not just newly Jewish. I'm newly religious, too. In my family, Christmas was always about decorating, gift-giving and overeating. Like many that celebrate the holiday, Christmas for me was never more than a good excuse for a fun party.

Okay, so thanks to the Consulate's Posada,

Santa wasn't totally absent this year...

Perspective must change when one considers religion, though. Even though many Christians don't necessarily associate the holiday with the birth of Christ, Jews must. To celebrate Christmas is to either insult your own religious background by honoring a figure not central to your faith, or to insult the religious background of others by making light of a figure (that should be) central to theirs.

Religious holidays are a no-no. Secular and civil holidays are perfectly fine. That means New Years Day, Columbus Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, etc. are perfectly acceptable.

Except, for most Jews living in Israel, and Orthodox Jews in general, December 31/January 1 are just ordinary days. Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish New Year and occurs much later.

Columbus Day opponents in the 19th century saw the holiday as a tool for further expansion of Catholic influence.

Halloween finds its origins in the pagan holidays of Pomona and Parentalia, or perhaps the Celtic festival of Samhain. Celebrating Halloween is considered taboo by certain branches of Judaism and Christianity.

There is even evidence to suggest that the first Thanksgiving was inspired by the Jewish Festival of Booths (Sukkot), which occurs in the autumn and celebrates the gathering of crops. Is it possible that the entire country has been unknowingly celebrating a Jewish holiday since 1621? Would it even matter to anyone if this was the case?

I've seen many discussions online asking why Christians don't celebrate Jewish holidays. There's certainly Biblical basis for it. The answer of course is that Jews stick to the Hebrew Bible (known as the Old Testament by Christians) whereas Christians draw inspiration primarily from the New Testament. That is what the New Testament says to do, after all.

Holidays are a tricky business for the religiously inclined. For all any of us know, we turn into traffic lights in western Arizona when we die. And yet, if you have made that commitment to follow a certain faith, you should hold yourself accountable for your actions. Where do you draw the line between fun and sacrilege? I certainly don't know. Well, yes, I suppose I do. I should leave Christmas in the past and find pleasure in all of the new holidays I have gained:

Purim. Passover. Rosh Hashanah. Yom Kippur. Sukkot. Chanukah.

Heck, in Judaism, every Friday night is considered a holiday (Shabbat).

Over the past year I have been able to experience each of them to some degree, and have found them to be quite wonderful.

So why, then, do I care so much about Christmas? I mean, Easter certainly never meant much to me (which, since it is the more important of the two to Christians, is definitely a good thing for my Jewish identity).

I'll tell you why I love Christmas.

I love the fact that every year since birth my mother would buy me a dated ornament for the tree.

I love the fact that every year since we met TJ and I have had an ornament personalized for our tree at Disney's Days of Christmas.

I love the fact that, when we were forced to move on Christmas Eve, Santa was kind enough to bring my 5-year old self a new present every time we returned to our old house for a fresh load of boxes. I got Castle Grayskull that year.

I love the fact that, when we had no plans last Christmas Eve, my friend Alfie shared his family dinner with us.

I have studied Judaism for over a year now, and the only thing that gives me pause is Christmas. Not the story of the Virgin Birth. No, it's the memories of days gone by, where Christmas was a huge, secular ball of joy.

But giving up Christmas doesn't change the past. The past is precious, and will always exist in our hearts, photos, and personalized ornaments.

So what changes without Christmas? Let's see.

I love the fact that I can still treasure the Christmas ornaments from my childhood, though stored in the closet they may be.

I love the fact that this year I was able to purchase an ornament for personalization at Disney's Days of Christmas that was completely secular. I was also able to purchase a "Happy Hannukah" plate featuring Mickey Mouse and a pile of presents.

I love the fact that I'm old enough and solvent enough to buy my own Castle Grayskull if I want to. And that I am able to bring some small amount of cheer to those less fortunate than I ever was or will be.

I love the fact that, even though we are far from home, we still have friends who will invite us over to share their holiday dinner.

When I look at it that way, I guess nothing changes without Christmas.

So, I encourage lots of discussion on this one. Christians, how do you feel about the current state of Christmas? Lifetime Jews, how do you feel about the "Christmas Dilemma?" Converted Jews, how have you adapted your love of the holidays to more suitably match your new lives?

....and would it be such a bad thing if I wanted a Chanukah bush next year?

Men Just Don't Understand

One thing I can say about Guadalajara is there sure are a lot of Nativity Scenes set up during the Christmas holiday season. There's one in practically every mall, store, town square, yard, and church that I've come across.

But this one's my favorite.

We stumbled across it today while waiting to meet a friend in El Centro. At first glance, it's really no different than any other Nativity. Or is it?

Something is...missing.

Joseph: "Don't cry, Mary. WE can try again soon."

Mary: "Ugh. Men."

.

The Best Night of My Life

Growing up as an only child, I had the best of both worlds: undivided attention and more toys than I could shake a stick at. The latter was a great thing to have, because we lived in a rural area and my parents, perpetual loners, were just fine with few-to-zero visitors.

Sure, I had friends at school, but at home I usually had to rely on the random He-Man, Ninja Turtle, or GI Joe for company. Oh, who am I kidding? Random? I practically had them all. I had a lot of stuff.

As an adolescent I retreated into my belongings even more. Ever afraid that my friends and family would discover and reject the real me, the gay me, I knew that I would always have my stuff...and the more I collected, the more I needed to collect. Toys, movies, books, stamps in my passport. Whatever.

Even as an adult, happy as I am with TJ and life in general, I still LOVE buying stuff. What can I say? Old habits die hard.

And Christmas? I love Christmas. Because at Christmas, not only do I get stuff, but I get to give stuff to other people, too!

When we lived in Orlando I would always make an effort to donate toys to one charity or another during the Christmas holidays, pat myself on the back for a job well done, and continue living my stuff-filled life of blissful ignorance. One year we had a Christmas party for all of our friends. In a moment of selflessness, I sent out invitations suggesting that, in lieu of a “Secret Santa” gift exchange, everyone bring a toy to donate to charity. Then my selfish stuff-needing nature kicked in, and I sent everyone a text message suggesting that it would still be cool to do “Secret Santa,” too. Stuff, stuff, stuff.

In fact, losing Christmas was the hardest part about converting to Judaism. Not because of any unresolved religious feelings. No, no, no. I was going to miss the tree, the presents, the lights, the presents, the songs, the presents, the food, and the presents. You know, the reason for the season.

On Wednesday, December 8^th, 2010 the Consulate threw a Christmas party for a local orphanage, Casa Hogar Nacidos Para Triunfar, A.C. A toy drive was the first order of business, so of course my top priority was to buy stuff. I mean, how convenient was this? Here I am, a newly converted Jew craving a little taboo Christmas cheer, when an orphanage presents itself as the perfect excuse to do a little celebrating. I'm not completely selfish. I know that stuff makes other people happy, and I'm more thank willing to share.

God forgive me, I'm such an idiot.

They're orphans. They don't want toys. “Stuff” doesn't interest them. Santa himself barely registered on their radar. They crave love. Human contact. A warm meal.

TJ and I were the first to arrive, and we were immediately swarmed by the kids. They had no idea who we were and they didn't even care that my Spanish is worse than that of a six-month old. They just wanted to look, talk, and touch. As TJ held intelligent Spanish-language conversations with several kids, I awkwardly stood there and let a couple of them swing from my arm. They had fun, and I didn't have to embarrass myself by talking, so I think we all lucked out.

The rest of the evening's volunteers soon began to trickle in, and the evening kicked off with a little entertainment.

El Show de Mago Richard is a magic/comedy show with a little bit of puppetry thrown in for good measure. There were card tricks, disappearing/reappearing coloring book pages, and bottomless water pitchers. Richard brought along his puppet friends for a little end-of-show entertainment. He had a duck, a dog, a Mariachi man, and a Santa Claus. And the kids loved every minute of it. Well, most of them did, anyway...

This little guy loves ketchup. That's actually a cup full of ketchup he's drinking/eating. When the show started he took one look at me and jumped into my lap. He took an instant liking to my camera, so I let him try it out. He spent the entire show taking pictures of his shoes, the floor, and the backside of the other kids' heads. Any time he thought he took a good one, he'd smile and show it to me, then snuggle in closer. He spent so much time taking pictures of his feet, and I spent so much time making sure the camera was ok, that neither of us saw much of the show. But that's ok...I think we had a better time by ourselves, anyway.

He ditched me as soon as the show was over, but I didn't feel too terribly rejected. It was dinner time, after all, and I was hungry, too. One look at the 100+ kids shoveling chicken tenders and french fries into their mouths (courtesy of Outback Steakhouse), however, and I knew that I wouldn't be eating until I got home that evening. There were plenty of leftovers, but there was no way I could deny one of those kiddos a second helping. This was a treat for them. The orphanage recently lost it's biggest food supplier. Dinner usually consists of a donut. A donut.

While dinner was wrapping up, I helped bring the toys into the room for Santa's grand entrance. Suddenly, the part I had been most looking forward to was the least important thing in the world. Stuff was meaningless. Is meaningless.

This little fella latched onto me just as Santa Claus arrived. He didn't even notice. He just wanted to sit on my lap and sip his juice. I held him for about an hour. If I even tried to put him down, he'd burst into tears.

As limited as my Spanish is, it didn't matter. He wasn't old enough to speak much. But he understood a lot. For instance, I know that his juice was "muy delicioso," because I asked if it was, and he nodded.

He was the last to get a toy from Santa, and only then because I stood in line for him. It brought joy to my heart to see how horrified he was of Santa. What is a childhood without one good freak-out from ol' St. Nick? He got a Fisher Price toy that looks like a dog. You push it's tail and it barks. The mouth opens and a flashlight turns on.

Only, it didn't. The battery was dead. There was no bark to be heard, no light to be seen. But he didn't care. He was happy anyway. Not because he had a new toy, but because I took the time to show him how it was supposed to work. He wanted to walk the doggie, so I put him down. He walked the dog for a couple of feet before he lost interest, looked up at me, lifted his arms, and cried to be held some more.

If it had been me, I would have been ticked off that my toy didn't work. I mean, what kind of crap is that? But for him, it was all about the interaction. It's just stuff, after all.

He eventually fell asleep in my arms, and was put to bed by one of his caretakers. I didn't get to say goodbye, but it's probably for the best. If he started crying, I think I would have too.

TJ and I have talked about the possibility of adoption in the past, but it's something that has always seemed intangible. Unattainable. And would I really even want to? Do I have anything to offer to a child? I'm pretty selfish, after all. I'm not proud of it, but I own it. If we're being honest, and this is horrible, I've always secretly wondered if I am too selfish to love a child with which I share no biological connection.

After Wednesday night, I have an answer to all of those questions.

Yes, I want to adopt. I have all the love in the world to share. And screw biology. Adoption is the only path I would ever consider.

I'm not going to belittle anyone and pretend that I'm a better person now. I still like stuff. I'll always like stuff. Heck, I will probably always look for excuses to have a little Christmas cheer.

Despite that, I did leave the orphanage with a little bit of perspective. I know what's important, and I know what I want. And what I want isn't just stuff. Not anymore. I'd love to adopt one day.

In the meantime, the consulate makes bi-weekly visits to the orphanage. I look forward to it with immense happiness.

In closing, I just want to share a few photos that the kids took. They all loved the camera, and I let them hold onto it for most of the event.

365 Challenge, Day 86: My Life In Pictures

This morning I spent several hours combing through the files in an old computer of ours that I had brought back from Florida in July. Although I accidentally deleted all of our photos from our 2007 trip to Spain (and who knows what else), I was surprised at just how many photos we do have. Photos that show what a blessed life TJ and I have had together. A life that I could hardly imagine ever having while growing up in Texas. Come, walk with me down memory lane...

...as we meet in 2003 and spend

way too much time at Disney World...

...as we enjoy a Christmas

playing dress up with Sophie...

...as we adopt our first

puppy, Zelda...

...as we take our first trip to Paris

(and Disneyland Paris)...

...as we meet actor/comedian

Hal Sparks at the Hard Rock Live...

...as we adopt our second

puppy, Chloe...

...as we celebrate

TJ's graduation...

...as we buy our 1st home...

...as we go back to Paris

(and Disneyland Paris)...

...as we move to DC, and I

see my first heavy snowfall...

...as we watch as our babies grow up...

It's been a good life, and things will only continue to get better. There are a couple of things in the pipeline that we are very excited about.

I think now is a good time to let everyone know that the 365 Challenge is officially over. Not "over" like it was on Day 50, but really, really over. There was actually a soft closing of it on October 1st, when I decided to no longer number the individual days.

I was going to ride it out until we left for Guadalajara, but after finding some of the above photos today, it just seemed like this would be a good day to go out on.

Not every day has a story worth telling. Other days have stories that might be worth telling, but are inappropriate given that we represent the US Government abroad. Those are the days that frustrate me the most: when I have something fun or personal to share but instead resort to "stock footage." And if we're being honest, knowing that I "have" to post every day sorta makes me resent the process.

I will continue to write and post photos, but only when it feels right. Only when I have something to say or share. No more photos scavenged from the Internet. The words and stories will all be mine alone, or they won't be posted.

Which brings me to my next bit of news. "Adventures By Aaron" will be shutting down in a few weeks, to be replaced by a new blog...one that I think will better capture the essence of our lives abroad. I will continue posting here until then, and will of course leave a "forwarding address" when the time comes.

This has been a fun project for me, and definitely one of the things that have kept me sane while adjusting to our new Foreign Service Life.

Thanks to all of my readers, posters and lurkers alike. I hope you'll stick around for what's coming up next!