How IS Jerusalem?

Way back in November of 2010, when TJ and I had just arrived at our very first overseas job assignment, I posted a blog entry entitled "How IS Guadalajara?" in which I did a brief tour around the neighborhood, discussed potential security concerns, and generally just tried to put family and friends at ease over any concerns they may have had about our making such a huge transition out of our previous lives.  I reread that posting in preparation for this one, and it brought a smile to my face.  Mexico was such a wonderful time in our lives, and it warmed my heart to relive those early days with the perspective brought on by four full years of additional life experience.

I had meant to do the same for Jerusalem shortly after our arrival, but for some reason it never happened.  I never really wrote anything about Jerusalem.

It started out innocently enough:  I was in Jerusalem.  Jerusalem.  This was going to be epic.  My first entry was going to have to be something truly special.  A full-on review of the Old City.  Only...I hadn't spent enough time in the Old City to write that "wow" story before we took an extended weekend trip to Tel Aviv.  I couldn't write about Tel Aviv first, now, could I?  Of course not!  That would feel cheap.

Excuse followed excuse, until so much time had passed that I basically lost interest in writing anything at all.  Finally, two months into living here, I forced myself to start writing.  I ignored pretty much everything that had gone down in those first two months and just chugged forward...at a snail's pace.  Today we find ourselves one year and two months into a two year assignment.  We've seen and done so much, yet I've not even managed to write an average of one entry per week.  As of this writing, I'm  approximately four months behind on subject matter.  Still, that's an improvement; it used to be six months.

I'm making decent progress now.  I want to get caught up so I can start chronicling our adventures in real time.  I think if I can just force this entry out, the dam will burst and the stories will flow with ease.

So.  How IS Jerusalem?

Well.  To start with....

Jerusalem was Hope

TJ and I both converted to Reform Judaism in October 2010.  It is not common for both people in a relationship to change religions at once, as one partner usually acts as a magnet for the other.  The rabbis thought it was odd.  Our families thought it was odd.  Our friends thought it was odd.  I thought it was odd.  What can I say?  We're odd.

We did so simultaneously and for similar yet strikingly different reasons.  Our reasons are personal and won't be shared here.  Suffice it to say, our thoughts on religion weren't especially changed as a result.  It was more of a sociocultural than spiritual decision.  Beyond Christmas and Easter, religion had never been a big part of my life pre-Judaism.  Post-Judaism, the same held true for Chanukah, Passover, and Purim.

We tried to connect to the community in Mexico, with mixed results.  The people were all wonderfully polite, but we just didn't feel as if we clicked.  Language barriers were the decided upon culprit.  When we began bidding on our second tour, Jerusalem and Tel Aviv made the top of the list.  We were elated when we were assigned to Jerusalem.  We saw it as an opportunity to learn some Hebrew, to connect with a broader Jewish community, and to learn more about this choice we had made.

When we returned to DC for post-Mexico, pre-Jerusalem training, we made an honest effort to check out a few synagogues near our home in Falls Church, VA.  None of them clicked.  Temple Micah, where we had undergone our conversion, was and remains our favorite, but due to work schedules and commute times, we were unable to attend Friday night Shabbat services there.  Of course, we could have gotten up for Saturday services, but....yeah.  That didn't happen, either.  Having seemingly struck out in Guadalajara and DC alike, we saw Jerusalem as our opportunity to finally form a solid connection.

As of this writing, we have yet to attend a service.  Perhaps we never will.  It's possible that the idea of Judaism was, for us, more appealing than the practice itself.  And that's okay.

Jerusalem is Closed

One of the hardest things to get used to is the fact that, from mid-afternoon on Friday to one hour after sunset on Saturday, just about everything is closed in observance of Shabbat, the Jewish day of rest.  Most local business maintain a Sunday-Thurday work week.  We, however, follow the American practice of holding office hours Monday-Friday.  This means that if we want to eat during the weekend, we best get our shopping done by Thursday evening.

There are exceptions, however.  Not every restaurant closes during Shabbat.  There are a number of Arab-owned eateries and convenience stores that are open at all hours of the day and night.  These have been my saving grace and I love them to pieces.

Despite the need for workarounds, there is generally something peaceful about knowing what your Friday night plans are going to be.  I mean, who could possibly complain about having to spend an evening at home with loved ones?

Jerusalem is Kosher.  It is also Halal

Religious practices and levels of observance dictate a number of things, including what types of foods are permissible.  In the absolute simplest of terms, Jews that keep kosher do not eat meat and dairy in unison.  They also refrain from pork and shellfish in all their forms.  Muslims that keep halal do not eat pork or drink alcohol.  For those that keep neither practice, you have options...you just have to plan your shopping and dining excursions more strategically.  This could mean driving into the  West Bank to obtain pork in Bethlehem, or taking a day trip that will include a delectable seafood spread in Akko.  Jerusalem also has locations that can cater to your needs; you'll just need to do your research.    

Jerusalem is Convenient

Literally everywhere that I go within the city on any sort of regular basis is walkable.  It takes me 5 minutes to get to my favorite pizza joint.  10 minutes to get to the grocery store or one of those heaven-sent Arab markets.  12 minutes to get to work.  45 minutes to get to the mall and the Old City.  I don't drive unless I have to.  Which is good, because...

Jerusalem is Aggressive

Horn honking, road rage, and cutting off the guy beside you is par for the course.  And I usually witness all of that before I even turn out of the parking garage and onto the side street in front of my apartment.  A cab driver was behind me once.  He thought I was driving too slowly.  Instead of just passing me, he passed me, stopped his car in the road in front of me, and got out of his car to come yell at me.  No, really.

There is no line culture.  You have to watch out for that little old lady behind you at the grocery store.  Blink and she's suddenly in front of you, like a ninja.

Jerusalem is Healthy (Well, Healthier)

Guadalajara was chock-full of American brands.  Jerusalem has McDonald's, Pizza Hut, and Dominos.  Bethlehem has a KFC.  That's pretty much it.  This is a blessing and a curse.  Fast food is in short supply, so it generally makes for healthier, tastier dining experiences.  We've managed to lose a little bit of weight, which is inspiring and very much welcome.  But...sometimes you REALLY just want to pig out and be a fat gross sloth of a human, am I right?  Bare minimum, I'd like someone to hand me food through my car window from time to time.

Jerusalem is Delicious

I've attended two cooking classes in my time here.  One of these days I would like to prepare the foods, photograph them, and share the recipes with you.  Until then, you will just have to trust me.


Jerusalem is Expensive

With an 18% VAT (value-added tax), you really have to reevaluate your spending power.  Amazon.com has become my best friend.  

Jerusalem is Heartbreaking

Ah.  And here we are.  This is the part I've been dreading.  This is the touchy part.  The controversial part.  The part that, should we be honest with each other (and we should), prevented me from writing about Jerusalem and stinted my writing for so long.  Hell, I started this particular post over a week ago and had to stop because, suddenly, Jerusalem became even more heartbreaking.

Conflict has been a fact of life in this region since time immemorial.  That certainly did not change when the State of Israel was established on May 14, 1948 following devastating losses to the Jewish people during the Holocaust.  Israel was quickly attacked by her neighbors.  Despite being a newborn nation, Israel won that particular fight.  New boundaries were drawn.  The unrest continues to this day.  

Jerusalem is central to the ongoing struggle.  The Israelis have proclaimed Jerusalem as their capital, while the Palestinians who inhabited these lands up to the May 14, 1948 termination of the British Mandate for Palestine also lay claim to the city.

Who's right?  Who's wrong?  Who knows?  History has a tendency of favoring, or at least being written by, the victor.  As of yet, there is no victor.

For its part, the US government does not recognize Jerusalem as the capital for either party.  It is desired that an international regime be established for the city, as outlined in the 1947 partition plan that preceded the State of Israel.

The newsfeed was filled with stories about altercations between Israeli soldiers and Arab terrorists the moment we stepped off the plane.  Keep in mind that terror covers a wide swath ranging from stone throwing to kidnapping and murder, so thorough reading of any article is necessary to understand just what is going on at any particular moment.

Despite all of this, Secretary of State John Kerry was making frequent visits to the region and, for a time, it looked like we might actually be present for the historical creation of a two-state solution between the Israeli and Palestinian peoples.

Then, on June 12, three Israeli teenagers were kidnapped in the West Bank.  Their bodies were found on June 30.

Hamas, the terrorist government regime in control of Gaza, took credit for the crime.

A retaliatory terror attack saw the kidnapping and murder of a Palestinian teenager by Israeli settlers.  He went missing on July 2.  His remains were found the following day.  He was stabbed and burned alive in the woods near Jerusalem.

These murders set off a chain reaction of violence that neither side has yet to recover from.

In the first week of July, 250 missiles were fired into Israel from Gaza.  Israel began a counter-terrorist operation on July 7.  It would ultimately involve air strikes that devastated entire cities and a land invasion to destroy tunnels that had been dug to infiltrate Israel.

On July 13, TJ and I joined a contingent of our colleagues in assisting in the departure of 150 American citizens who had found themselves trapped in Gaza over the course of the previous few months  (Entry/exit requirements are strict and the US government is unable to intervene unless during times of crises).

We could hear rockets exploding in the distance, and once we were even required to seek shelter in a safe haven.

We met the Americans as they exited Gaza, registered their travel and provided them with evacation loans, and escorted them to Jordan.

Our involvement in the operation lasted over eight hours.  In total, the day's work lasted for over sixteen hours.

On July 20, despite my express wishes to the contrary, TJ went back to assist in a second evacuation.  He's just that kind of guy.  He wanted to help.  I was in Texas visiting my family and had little to no contact with him during the operation.  He was terrified.  Rockets were exploding much closer than they had the previous weekend, and they had to seek shelter more frequently.  He was shaken for days  afterward.

By the end of the conflict in late August, the Palestinian death toll had soared to over 2,000.  The Israelis lost 68 people, 64 of which were soldiers.

Thanks to its Iron Dome missile-defense system, which calculates missile trajectory and launches a counter-missle should a populated area be at risk, Israel escaped the conflict with far less damage than it would have otherwise.  That, of course, comes as no consolation to those that were affected.

Negotiations for a continued ceasefire are still underway, though they appear to have stalled.

Recently, tensions began to rise once more.

• A Palestinian teenager was shot three times in the chest and killed by Israeli police during a public demonstration on October 17.
• A baby was killed and seven others Israelis were injured when a Palestinian driver hit passengers at a train station on October 22.  The driver later died of gunshot wounds.   
• Another Palestinian teenager was shot in the head and killed during an altercation with Israeli police on October 24.
• A rabbi was shot by a Palestinian man in Jerusalem on October 29.  His assailant was killed during the arrest attempt.  The victim was gravely injured and is still recovering. 
• Israeli settlers set fire to a mosque in the West Bank on November 12.
• Five Israelis were killed and several others were seriously injured while praying at a synagogue on November 18.  The responsible parties were killed on the scene.  

This is by no means a comprehensive list, but you get the gist.  When talks cease to be sufficient, acts of violence are carried out tit for tat.   

News analysts are falling all over themselves trying to decide if and when another Intifada (uprising) will begin...or if it already has and we just don't realize it. 

Such is life in Jerusalem.  We are blessed in that we are not (yet) the intended targets of any of these attacks, yet heartbroken in having so many wonderful, loyal, kind local friends on both sides of the conflict that will have to live here and endure long after we have moved on to our next assignment.

Jerusalem is Hope

I have no answers to provide, no solutions to offer.

All I can do is look at everyone that I've met in this beautiful land and pray that one day they will be able to open their eyes knowing they have woken up to a day of peace and mutual understanding.

That is my wish.  That is my hope.

Purim 2014

Our friend Adi invited us to join her in Tel Aviv for the Hip Hop Pop-Up Purim Party on the evening of March 14th.  The party was described as "80s/90s old school hip hop plus some modern beats.  Friendly Israel meets North American vibe and Florentin neighborhood feel."  TJ and I hadn't celebrated Purim since 2010, so we happily grabbed some new costumes and our friend George, and hit the road.

In the week leading up to the party, George was a bit wishy-washy about whether he was going to join us or not.  TJ and I had ordered our costumes weeks in advance.  He would be dressed as some sort of dragon warrior, and I would be a pharaoh (though I was a bit nervous dressing as a Biblical enemy of the Jewish people).  George, on the other hand, hadn't prepared and was concerned that he wouldn't have a cool costume.  I told him to just cut two holes in a sheet and be a ghost, but he wanted to aim higher.  He ended up cobbling together what is probably the creepiest thing I have ever seen.  It was more suited for Halloween than Purim, but I absolutely loved it.  Look at that thing.  LOOK AT IT.  *shudder*

The party was in an old warehouse, so we naturally had to park our car on some side street that by all rights should have been the last place that we would ever lay eyes on it again.  As we began walking to the party, an obnoxious young man carrying a briefcase that I suspected to be filled with drugs and wearing slacks and a button down shirt looked at TJ and said "Hey, cool costume, what are you, some 300 warrior or something?"  TJ said "Something like that, I guess."

The guy then turned to me and said "And what did you come dressed as?  A faggot?"  "Yeah," I said,  "And I see that you've dressed up like an asshole."  What is it with people today?  Stone age cro-magnon mentalities abound.

We walked around the corner and waited for him to head off down the street, just to be sure he didn't mess with our car.  Awkwardly enough, he ended up spending the evening at the same party. Given how many hands he shook and how many time he disappeared into the back of the club, I stand by my earlier suspicion, though we never interacted again.  I haven't had occasion to wear my pharaoh costume since, but I do suspect he dresses like an asshole daily.  Thankfully, he didn't hinder my enjoyment of the evening in the slightest.  Now, the fact that I was designated driver may have...

As it turned out, I needn't have worried about wearing a culturally insensitive costume.  While the majority of people were dressed in standard Halloween/costume party attire, there were people dressed in stereotypical Middle Eastern attire and a cute Jesus that made out quite enthusiastically with every girl in arm's reach.  I took the opportunity to teach Adi the hilariously tasteless joke about why all the girls love Jesus.  If you don't know it, ask a friend.  I shan't be sharing it here.

Overall, a fun night with fun people.  Next year, I think I'd like to try and see if one of the gay clubs hosts a Purim party, as I bet that'd be insane.  We'll have to work on TJ's costume though.  I mean, I was already dressed the part.  

Mika: An Intimate Evening

One of the first things I did in preparation for our return to the states was to check whether or not Mika was going to be on tour and if he would be passing through DC.  He was in fact on tour....he just wasn't coming to DC.  Sad face.  Then, something wonderful happened in February (possibly me just misreading the tour schedule before) and he WAS coming to DC after all!  Squee!  It was to be a limited engagement taking place at DC's Sixth & I Historic Synagogue.  Only 500 tickets were going to be available for the April 10th concert event that was being billed as "An Intimate Evening."  TJ and I camped out at our computers waiting for the on-sale time, and our efforts were rewarded handsomely.  (One perk of Judaism?  TJ had signed up for the synagogue's mailing list...the only bit of advertising that we ever saw for this show.)

An excruciatingly slow two months later we found ourselves standing in a line 100 people deep an hour before the doors were expected to open.  General Admission was the name of the game, and we didn't want to be stuck in the back row.  Wednesday was I guess what you could call the first real day of spring here in DC after an extended winter filled with ice, slush, snow and overall miserably cold days.  Unfortunately, it felt more like an oppressively hot summer day.  Wanting good seats but worrying about dying of heat stroke before making it past the front door if we camped out all day, we instead opted for a late lunch at the DC Hard Rock Cafe (one of my biggest guilty pleasures) followed by an afternoon basking in the shade of the DC Cherry Blossoms, which had just bloomed.

Arriving an hour ahead turned out to be pretty good timing, as the remaining 400 or so people arrived shortly thereafter.  I was still slightly concerned that we wouldn't get premium seating, but that was for naught.  When the doors opened, we happily plopped ourselves down in the fifth row.  Boredom during the time between sitting and the start of the show is always a concern, but that fear was abated following the discovery of the wine cart.  An easy breezy hour later we were enjoying the opening act, which consisted of two DJ's spinning short 10-15 second snippets of pop music from all periods....though Disney's "Kiss the Girl" got extended play when everyone began whooping and singing along.  Why, yes, it was a room full of gay men and their hags.  Why do you ask?

The opening act ended and I had just enough time to run to the restroom and refill our wine glasses (at the bar, not in the restroom, in case that needed clarification) before completely missing Mika's entrance, which TJ says came from the back of the room.  Sigh.  At least I didn't miss all of the opening song.  It truly was an intimate evening, the type of event that can only be experienced in a room as small as a synagogue's sanctuary.  We were sitting directly under the dome, which is prime real estate for getting the best sound, a fact that anyone who has heard the Voices of Liberty perform at EPCOT can attest to.  It was a pretty dome, to boot!

It was an evening of hits, featuring the best from all three of Mika's studio albums.

Set List
Grace Kelly
Toy Boy
Lollipop
Blue Eyes
Billy Brown
Popular Song
Love You When I'm Drunk
Underwater
Stuck in the Middle
Emily / Elle me dit
Big Girl (You are Beautiful)
Origin of Love
Happy Ending
Lola
Relax, Take it Easy
Stardust
Celebrate
Love Today
Over My Shoulder

I was quite pleased with the set list and can't really think of anything I'd have preferred hearing over what we got.  There were a number of evening highlights, told in both song and story, but the ones that I will never forget are as follows:

"Blue Eyes" is one of my favorite songs, because I am vain and have blue eyes and naturally think it is a song about me.  I was already smiling, but hearing him sing this song live brought a glimmer of a tear to my (blue) eyes that accompanied my smile for the remainder of the show.

Mika stumbled over the chorus to "Emily," a song that is sung in both English and French on the album The Origin of Love.  He shook his head and said "I always f--k that one up.  I want to sing in French when I should be singing in English.  Do you want me to sing in French?!?"  The crowed of course cheered their approval and he happily obliged.  He transitioned back into English for chorus, and when he called out "Dance with me Emily," every tukus in the house left its seat, never to return again.

He later explained to the crowd that he had been wanting to perform "The Origin of Love" in a place just like this since the moment he recorded it.  You'd really just have to listen to the song to understand why he was right, and why it was so special to hear in a house of worship.

Toward the end of "Happy Ending," he stepped away from the microphone and sang unplugged.  It

was met with great applause and I guess the acoustics in the synagogue were better than he had anticipated, for he sang "Lola" and "Stardust" in the same manner.  The silence from the crowd was a testament to the beauty of his voice, and we have confirmed with others that have attended prior shows that he does not do this as a normal part of the act.  I've never attended a concert in which the performer was able to connect with his audience so successfully at this level.    

In a moment that was to become the emotional crux of the concert, he introduced "Relax, Take it Easy" by explaining that it was inspired by the 2005 bombing of the  London train system.  He had been traveling on the tube at the time and his train was evacuated.  He said he wrote the song as a means of coming to terms with the tragedy.  It was horrifying to learn that a song I had thought to merely be a metaphor for a doomed relationship was actually a coping mechanism for a terrorist attack.  I turned to see tears streaming down TJs face, and I knew that we had both made the connection between this and the act of terrorism that had taken the life of his colleague in Afghanistan last Saturday. 

The songs that followed touched on themes such as love, loss and recovery.  If "Relax, Take it Easy" stirred feelings for a fallen peer, the remainder of the show definitely drew a line under our own mortality.

As we left the sanctuary, happier yet strangely more distressed than we had entered into it, TJ commented that this evening had the three ingredients to a perfect concert experience:  There was wine, we had great seats, and we knew all of the songs.  I would argue that there was also a fourth key ingredient:  the ability to create an emotional response.  And Mika did that in spades.

I may as well never see another concert again because, after Wednesday night, they will all be complete and utter disappointments.  

Easter? No, Thanks. I Think I'll Passover That One.

I'm a bad Jew. There, I fully admit to it and am quite willing to state it as fact before anyone with strong opinions feels the need to do it for me.

Our conversion to Judaism was a bumpy one. Well, mine was. TJ was apparently sure of himself from Day One. Me, I took some convincing. In the end, I determined that the things I had learned about Judaism over the course of our one year of study were more in synch with how I had always perceived the world than the previous 30 years of not practicing Christianity had been...and moreso than any length of time actually practicing Christianity could ever hope to be.

Christmas was always the sticking point. I've said it before, but it bears repeating: I LOVE Christmas. It was the hardest thing for me to give up, and honestly, if our belongings weren't so late in arriving here in Guadalajara, I'm not sure what would have happened this past holiday season. In the end, I settled for some volunteer work and a friendly meal with coworkers. Nothing to be ashamed about there...nothing except the not-so-secret longing I had for a Christmas Tree surrounded by presents.

I've never understood why it was such a big deal. I mean, *I* know that I only care about the secular aspects of Christmas. Isn't that all that matters? TJ didn't think so, but I thought that I had found my justification when, on the night of our "Introduction to Judaism" class's holiday discussion, I asked the rabbi the following question:

"We're all adults. We know what Christmas is supposed to mean. But nobody here is clamoring for Easter, which is by far the more important of the two holidays in the Christian faith. So why does it matter if we want to hold on to a little Christmas?"

...and she didn't have an answer. She said she would get back to me, but never did. I felt as if I had one that battle.

I was wrong.

Over the course of the past two weeks, as people began making their Easter plans, not one, not two, but THREE separate people have engaged me in the following conversation.

"Are you doing anything for Easter?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"...I'm Jewish."

"But you went to Christmas parties, right?"

"...yes."

"Well, then, what's the difference?"

"..."

There is no way to credibly respond to such a statement. I'm guilty as charged.

My rabbi may not have had an answer to the Jews-and-Christmas question...but, now, I do. Or maybe she did have an answer, but knew that I wasn't quite ready to hear it.

Jews that allow themselves to get publicly wrapped up in Christmas (in all its secular glory) put themselves at risk of being pigeonholed as bad Jews.

The same people that will gladly tell a Jew in December that it's ok to let himself enjoy a little Christmas cheer because, "hey, we all know it's a nonreligious holiday, anyway" will be right there in March or April letting him know that he's already slipped up, so he might as well enjoy the Easter Egg Hunt and baked ham, Passover be damned because it's not like he consistently practices his faith anyway.

I say none of these things as a criticism against these three people. No, I say it as a criticism against myself. Why would I fault them, when 1) I'm the one that slipped up, and 2) prior to my conversion I would likely have said the same in their shoes?

I don't resent their observation. I embrace it.

It's going to make me a better, stronger, more sensitive Jew.

In related news, TJ and I conducted our first ever self-led Passover Seder this evening....and it wasn't half bad!

Our First Tu B'Shevat (And Recipes!)

Happy Tu B'Shevat, Everyone!'

"..."

Wait. What?

Tu B'Shevat is the day that marks the beginning of the Jewish "New Year for Trees," and occurs every year on the 15th day of Shevat. It is during this time of year that the earliest-blooming trees in Israel awaken from their winter hibernation and begin a new fruit-bearing cycle.

The day is celebrated by eating fruits (especially the kinds identified in the Torah: grapes, figs, pomegranates, olives, and dates) and planting trees.

Celebrating any holiday in the Foreign Service always turns out a little differently than it would if you were back home, and this one was no exception.

In order to make any change to your home, you must first obtain permission from the GSO (General Service Officer), who must in turn obtain permission from the landlord. The US Government doesn't own these properties, and neither do the officers, after all. Permission was easily obtained, however, as you are quite unlikely to find a landlord that would not think it's a good idea to let the tenant improve the property. With the tree taken care of, it was time to move on to the yum-yums.

Going to the grocery store in a foreign country isn't as easy as it is in the United States. Well, perhaps that's a misconception. I suppose it's quite easy for the locals to go to the grocery store. The trouble is that things that are popular at home might not be popular in a foreign country, and product locations/availability will vary as a result.

And so it was that I found a delicious sounding recipe for a 15-fruit salad (to commemorate this 15th day of Shevat) and another for apricot chicken (which I must really love, because I just realized that I made a variation of it on Rosh Hashanah). And then I went to the store and couldn't find 15% of what I needed for the fruit salad. And so I improvised. And then I came home, and realized that I couldn't find the apricot chicken recipe. And so I improvised some more. Did a pretty darned good job, if I do say so myself.

It's funny, as I thought the first time I shared a recipe on this blog, it would be Mexican cuisine. I actually have that recipe all picked out and everything. But that's just not the way it was meant to be, I suppose.

15-Fruit Salad

The great thing about a fruit salad is that you can put whatever you want, in whatever quantity you desire, in it. Here's what sounded good to me:

10 Figs

2 Anjou Pears

2 Bananas

2 Kiwis

1 Gala Apple

1 Granny Smith Apple

1 Grapefruit

1 Orange

1/2 Cantaloupe

2 cups, Strawberries

2 handfuls, Green Grapes

2 handfuls, Red Grapes

1 can, Pineapple

1 cup, Blueberries

1/2 jar, Maraschino Cherries

Directions: Cut/Dice fruits into chunks, then hand-toss fruit in the following mixture:

1/2 cup, Fresh Squeezed Orange Juice

2 tbs, Pineapple Juice (from can)

1 tbs, Maraschino Cherry juice (from jar)

Let salad marinate in refrigerator for one hour before serving.

Baked Apricot Chicken

1-2 lbs Chicken Breast

1 jar, Apricot Marmalade

1/2 cup, Sour Cream

Salt

Pepper

Ground Cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Farenheit (175 degrees Celsius).

Combine sour cream and marmalade in a small bowl, mix until consistent. Add salt, pepper, and cinnamon to taste.

Place chicken breasts in a baking dish, cover with sauce. Cover in foil, bake for 20 minutes. Remove foil, bake for another 10 minutes.

Sprinkle with additional cinnamon, if desired.

Dinner is served!

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?

Eight Crazy Nights / Ocho Noches Locas

Chanukah ended nine days ago, and I cannot believe that I have yet to comment on it. Maybe it just took a while to process. It was, after all, kind of crazy.

As Jewish holidays follow the Hebrew Calendar (as opposed to the more well-known Gregorian/Western/Christian Calendar), they do not occur on the same day/week/month every year. Chanukah is an eight day celebration that begins at sunset on the 25th day of Kislev. This year, that happened to be December 1st.

What this meant was that our very first Chanukah would be celebrated without proximity to Christmas. Or rather, Christmas would occur without proximity to Chanukah. There could be no Christmas tree disguised as a Chanukah bush. No tacky Christmas bulbs masquerading as a Jewish Festival of Lights. Chanukah would be Chanukah, and Christmas would be Christmas. I would have to enjoy Chanukah on its own merits.

And, you know what? I think I did.

When a Foreign Service family prepares to leave for post, they have two packing options. One is your UAB (unaccompanied air baggage), which should be at your new home within a few days of your arrival. The other is your HHE (Household Effects), which takes a couple of months longer to arrive. You can put whatever you want in either shipment, but you should choose carefully, as there are weight limits.

When we left Virginia, I put our Shabbat candlestick holders in my carry-on bag, but put the menorah in with our UAB. Since we were arriving in Guadalajara on November 8th, we both assumed that our UAB would find us long before December 1st. In the meantime we would be able to continue our Friday night tradition of having Shabbat dinner.

What we didn't account for was that our UAB would not be released to us until we moved into our permanent home. For those of you that have been following this blog, you know that we were placed in two temporary homes before making our final move. We made that final move on Friday, December 10th (photos coming soon). Two days after the conclusion of Chanukah.

Fortunately, we had managed to pick up an electronic menorah while in Houston. It was intended to be a decorative piece for our window, but ended up being the centerpiece for our Chanukah dinners.

On the first night of Chanukah, I prepared a large spread of Jewish foods. No small undertaking, as 1) I had never prepared a Jewish meal, and 2) some of the ingredients are hard to come by in Mexico. Nevertheless, I prepared a grand meal of Raisin Challah, Chili-Lime Baked Chicken, Latkes, and Kugel.

The first night of Chanukah was also the night that we found out that one of our dogs was missing. Only, she wasn't. So there was the first night, full of great food and even greater stress.

The second night of Chanukah brought with it the arrival of our pets. So there was the second night, full of great leftovers and urine-soaked, traumatized animals.

The third night of Chanukah saw Chloe, our golden retriever, knocking the menorah off of the table, shattering one bulb and causing another to light only sporadically. So there was the third night, full of ok leftovers and worries about our ability to complete nights seven and eight.

The fourth night of Chanukah was celebrated following an afternoon Posada hosted by the US Consulate (at which I won a bottle of tequila during a post-lunch raffle...woo!). So there was the fourth night, full of so-so leftovers and a popular Mexican Catholic Christmas tradition.

All the while, we searched in vain for compatible bulbs.

And so it went, until the seventh night, where our fears were confirmed and the seventh bulb would not light.

On the eight night, we weren't even home to pretend that the final, empty slot would illuminate, because we were at the orphanage assisting with their Christmas party.

On December 10th, our UAB arrived with the beautiful menorah we had purchased a month prior at Crate & Barrel. It matches our Shabbat candlestick holders perfectly. Next Chanukah will be beautiful.

The irony of Chanukah slapped me in the face two days later. While sorting through our belongings, I found the box that had once contained our electric menorah. As I was about to throw it in the trash, I located two spare bulbs hidden behind a folded piece of cardboard. The menorah packaging had made no mention of extra bulbs. Had I found this hidden treasure just a few days earlier, we would have experienced a true Chanukah miracle.

But, you know what? This Chanukah season brought with it a new life in a foreign country, my first attempt at Jewish cooking, the safe arrival of our pets, and a treasured night bringing joy to children in need

I think that's pretty miraculous, after all.

Welcome to the Diaspora

A few weeks ago I announced the premature end of the 365 Challenge and hinted that there might be further changes in the near future. Honestly, I had planned on ending this blog entirely and starting a new one. The reason for this was because I knew well in advance that two important events would occur this very day. But then I realized, why bother? Why not just mold this blog to suit my purposes? And so, I am doing just that.

So what were these two important events?

Well, starting at 10AM, TJ and I began the two-hour ceremony required to complete our conversion to Judaism. It started with individual interviews with a Rabbinic Court (Beit Din) and ended with submersion in a Mikvah...which, to shed light, I suppose one could compare that last part to a Baptismal pool.

Then, at 2PM, we turned in our apartment keys and made the journey to Washington National Airport, where we currently await the boarding call for a flight that will take us to Houston. We will be there visiting a friend until Monday, at which point I will become a resident of Guadalajara in the Mexican state of Jalisco for the next two years. The journey that began in February is finally bearing fruit!

The morning was filled with an indescribable joy that was unfortunately overshadowed somewhat by the knowledge of what the afternoon held in store. We still had some packing to do. We had to arrange a key drop-off with a friend that has generously agreed to babysit our car until the drama with exportation is resolved. We had to make it to the airport, check our luggage, and clear security by 7PM.

It wasn’t until we were on the Metro that we realized our flight was leaving from the OTHER airport. In a week as stressful as this one has been, this bit of news actually worked out in our favor. Our flight was leaving from the CLOSER of the two airports. We couldn’t believe it. Had we known this earlier, we could have perhaps enjoyed the morning a little more, but at this point, TJ is just glad to be relaxing and playing “Plants vs Zombies” on our iPad, and I’m just grateful to have a Margarita coursing through my veins. And rushed or not, I won't even pretend that I didn't get a bit emotional this morning. I'm becoming such a softy in my old age.

As far as changes to this blog, I simply want to focus more on giving it a worldly feel. I know, I know...shouldn’t be a problem, since I’ll be living in other parts of the world. Good. Because I want my readers to get a real taste of what’s out there. I hope I was able to do that to some extent during my time in DC, but looking back I know there were not only more things that I could have shared with you, but also more things I could have shared with myself.

I wonder, have you heard of a diaspora? If not, it’s okay. I hadn’t until this past year.

A diaspora is the movement of a group of people, typically those sharing a national or ethnic identity, away from their homeland. This is something that TJ and I have been preparing ourselves for since February. We have had the opportunity to meet many other Foreign Service Officers and their families during our time in Virginia. Together, we have all established a diaspora that has ensured that we have friends around the world. People we can visit, and who can visit us in return. Peers that we may eventually be working and living with in other countries. People that understand all of the benefits and hassles of this lifestyle.

But there is another type of diaspora. The Diaspora (note the capitalization) refers to the exile of the Jewish people as well as Jews living outside of Israel. As new converts, we now fall into this category as well. As the partner of someone who makes his living moving to a new country every few years, it is my hope that we one day have a tour in Tel Aviv. How amazing would that be?

Until then, please sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. There will be photos. Stories. Local Humor. Recipes. Tales of Suspense!

But before we make that journey overseas, I promise to share some exciting photos of my trip to the Texas Renaissance Festival this coming weekend. Weather permitting.

Life is good, my friends.

Welcome to the DIASPORA.

Hatafat Dam Brit

First and foremost, I want to provide the disclaimer that I promise not to use this blog to talk too terribly much about religion in any of its forms for any extended period of time. I have touched on our exploration of Judaism a few times in the past, and will doubtlessly do so again when occasion and content call for it. This is not a blog about religion, and I don't want to make my readers uncomfortable (or worse, lose any) due to too much conversation about topics that may not interest them. However, Judaism has become important to us, and Jewish matters will continue to pop up from time to time.

With that said, today we will be discussing The Covenant of Circumcision (Sorry!).

Jewish males must be circumcised within eight days of birth. Non-Jewish males who wish to convert to Judaism must also undergo circumcision (Eep!).

Fortunately, TJ and I were born into a century in which most American baby boys underwent circumcision as a health measure immediately following birth (Whew!).

However...medical circumcision is not the same as brit milah, which is performed with the intention of entering the covenant of Israel. And so the rabbis invented hatafat dam brit, the extracting of a ceremonial drop of blood from...well...you know. The procedure is billed as quick, painless, and necessary if one wishes to be recognized by all branches of Judaism.

Our conversion is scheduled for completion on November 4th, and today was the only day the mohel could meet with us. The only problem was that he lives in Baltimore and his schedule for the day was full. So we offered to meet him at his apartment early this morning.

You know, we have been wanting to go to Baltimore for months, and had assumed that once we finally got there, it would be for the purposes of taking a John Waters tour or something. Hmm. Maybe next time.

During the 1.5 hour car ride to Baltimore, my mind kept flashing from one horrible thought to the next. We don't know this guy from Adam. What if he kills us and throws us in a ditch? What if I'm just a big weenie and can't go through with it? Does he properly sterilize his equipment? What if he decrees that I wasn't circumcised enough...and he needs to take a bit more off the top (Gah!)?

By the time we arrived at the rabbi's home, I would say that I had done a decent job of both working myself up into a nervous fit AND hiding it from TJ. We were welcomed warmly and ascended the narrow flight of stairs leading up to the mohel's self-proclaimed bachelor pad. The family portrait on the wall seemed to indicate that he had not been a bachelor for very long. The decor indicated a recent move, which TJ confirmed later. I've often wondered about the personal lives of religious leaders, yet this was the first time I'd found myself inside one's home. I was fascinated.

Thoughts of the rabbi's personal life evaporated when he opened up his tool box and withdrew a small white linen cloth, upon which he laid a gauze bandage, a tube of Neosporin, and a pair of the tiniest, rustiest scissors I have ever seen. I almost passed out on the spot. Trying to maintain my composure, I glanced at TJ, who looked just as nervous as I was. What the HELL were we going to do?

God does exist, people. I state this as fact, because the scissors were only there to cut the gauze in half. The drop of blood was extracted by a teeny tiny needle that miraculously appeared out of nowhere and caused no pain. I wonder if mohelim always presents the scissors first, giddily hoping to freak out the clientele? The devil, as they say, is in the details.

There is not much pomp and circumstance involved here. He fills out a document certifying completion of the ritual, performs the ritual, says a brief prayer, and sends you on your way. The entire process had quite the assembly line feel to it. All told, we were in and out within 15 minutes, with another couple waiting on the living room sofa to go through the same process.

Fortunately, they arrived after the snip, as the entire process occurred in the dining room.

365 Challenge, Day 70: Star and Shamrock

What do you get when you combine a New York-style Jewish deli with a good ol' fashioned Irish pub?

Star and Shamrock, which

opened its doors on April 16, 2010.

365 Challenge, Day 64: That's NOT My Underwear

In most households, such a sentence would probably be followed by a marital dispute of some sort. Fortunately, that is not the case in ours.

As part of their High Holy Days celebration, Temple Micah partners with the Community Council for the Homeless/Friendship Place (CCH) for an annual underwear drive. The drive begins on Rosh Hashanah and continues beyond Yom Kippur to the end of October and the holiday known as Sukkot.

Tradition states that, following the High Holy Days, the Temple priests would change their undergarments for the coming year. During Yom Kippur morning services, our rabbi referenced the Garden of Eden, and told the story of God providing clothing for Adam & Eve. He explained that providing clothing for the needy is an important mitzvah that we can all perform.

Nightfall yesterday brought with it the end of both the Jewish High Holy Days and the 25-hour mandated fast for all Jews.

We are almost a year into our exploration of Judaism, and, as a (relatively) young couple with no family history of Judaism, this has been a journey in which the blind has lead the blind at every turn. We have completed our 16-week Introduction to Judaism class. We participated in Purim. We attend Shabbat services and enjoy a Shabbat dinner when we can. We have monthly meetings with our sponsoring rabbi. We knew that our attendance was all but mandated for the High Holy Day services.

Rosh Hashana is considered to be the Jewish New Year. You wouldn't know it, though. There are no fireworks. No concerts in Times Square. The only real similarity is with the custom of making New Year's Resolutions. For Jews around the world, Rosh Hashana is a time for deep introspection...a time when you consider the mistakes of the past year and think about how you can improve yourself in the year to follow.

Connecting Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur are the Days of Awe, in which you are to consider the sins of the past year and seek repentance prior to Yom Kippur.

The High Holy Days conclude with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. A day of fasting, self denial, and deep personal prayer. The interesting thing about repentance in the Jewish world is that you do not seek it from God. You seek it from those that you have wronged. What good is God's forgiveness if you are still hurting those around you?

Neither one of us could honestly cast our lot with the most devout in the land, but we have both learned a lot and developed spiritually over the past several months. We've done a fairly good job of wading threw the pond of Judaism, but I don't think we were prepared for the last ten days. What type of connection could we possibly have with the High Holy Days of a religion that we weren't even a part of yet? Turns out, quite a strong one, actually.

We attended the four required services. We maintained the fast (minus the desperate need for something to drink in the wee hours of the evening). We fought like mad.

Yes, the past 6-7 months have been difficult for us. Each of us have said and done things to each other that we aren't quite proud of. Resent begets more resent, etc. You know the type. Not worth breaking up over, but definitely a pain in the butt. The hazards of a cross-country move. I would honestly advise against it, if you can avoid it.

For some reason or another, we exploded at each other before the first Rosh Hashana service. We bickered for the majority of the next several days and yet, heading into Yom Kippur, it was as if we had a new understanding of each other. I can't describe the last 10 days. I don't know if it's all that time in a synagogue, or if it's just the spirit of this time of year, or even delusions brought on by starvation...But you really do get filled with this sense of tremendous guilt. You really do want to be a better person.

We know what needs to be done to get back on track. All roads have their potholes. You can't avoid all of them. You might lose a hubcap here and there. You just have to make sure your chassis can withstand the impact.

And, most important of all...try not to get your underwear in a twist.

365 Challenge, Day 54: L'shanah Tovah

Not to blow my own shofar, but I

cooked a mean Rosh Hashanah dinner.