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.

11 Feria Internacional Gastronomica

One of the greatest joys of being a diplomat, or a diplomat's spouse, is that you are able to participate in so many philanthropic events that are not only rewarding but also highly entertaining.

One of the greatest sorrows of being a diplomat, or a diplomat's spouse, is that sometimes this means your alarm clock goes off at 8AM on Sunday morning. This was one such day.

Today, SNDIF, or the Sistema Nacional para el Desarrollo Integral de la Familia, which is usually shortened to just DIF, or Desarrollo Integral de la Familia, and in English would be known as the National System for Integral Family Devlopment, unless you prefer to shorten it to just Integral Family Development, hosted the 11 Feria Internacional Gastronomica, which in English would be the 2011 International Gastronomic Fair.

See? See why you wouldn't want the alarm clock going off so early? I need a nap just typing that. Whew.

The International Gastronomic Fair is basically a low-key, low-budget version of what my beloved Floridians would know as the EPCOT International Food & Wine Festival.

I don't say low-key and low-budget as a slam against the event. Far from it. The reason that it's low-key is because it's a charity event, not the workings of a multi-billion dollar corporation. The reason that it's low-budget is that all labor and supplies are donated.

DIF is a social assistance program that operates with the mission of strengthening and developing the welfare of Mexican families, and today's event was held as a fundraiser for their ongoing programs, with 100% of today's profits going to support DIF.

Like any good gastronomical event, there were several booths set up featuring food and drink from a number of different countries. The USCG Guadalajara volunteered to run the American booth at this year's event (hmmm...hot dogs!), and TJ and I signed up to assist with set-up and decorating. Which began at 8:45. Sooo early on a Sunday. Sigh.

(Oh! Quick plug! Although all you can see is photo after photo of Pepsi product placement, I would like to give a quick shout out to the fine people at Costco who generously donated 350 hot dogs and buns, plus an overwhelming quantity of condiments for today's event.)

The original plan, I'll admit, was to work the early shift so we could get on with our day afterward. We were only scheduled to be there for about two hours, but ended up having so much fun that we stuck around to help until 12ish. After running home for a quick power nap, we headed back to the event mid-afternoon for some serious eating.

The Set-Up Crew...

Who can spot the typo?

It wasn't us! Signage provided by DIF!!!

You may be asking yourself what fares were provided by the other booths. Well! Let me tell you!

Bratwurst and Sauerkraut from Germany

Oh, Potato Salad and a Pretzel, too!

Pernil y Arroz de Colombia

Rusas de Mexico

Tamales de El Salvador

Wrapped in Banana Leaves Instead of Corn Husks

There were many more booths available, offering food selections from Argentina, Chile, The Czech Republic, The Dominican Republic, Greece, Peru, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, etc...but our poor tummies couldn't handle the pressure, and we at last had to admit defeat.

In addition to the food (which, unlike EPCOT, was served in huge portions at reasonable prices), the festival also offered several tchotchke stands as well as live musical performances representing the styles and sounds of the participating countries.

Not sure what these cute old ladies were going to do. We missed their performance. After 6 plates of food (We shared! I promise!), we had to roll ourselves home. But not before making them take a picture with us. Please note that we look happy. They do not.

Maybe they had to get up at 8AM, too.

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.

Walk for a Life Without Violence

Sunday morning the Consulate General of the United States -Guadalajara joined a group of approximately 350 people in a "Caminata por una Vida sin violencia," or for my English speakers, "Walk for a Life Without Violence."

Organized by The Institute of Jalisco Women, the walk was a call to the people and law enforcement officials of Jalisco to promote a culture of peace and an end to gender-based violence. The walk was held as one of many events commemorating the International Day for the Elimination of Violence, which occurred on November 25th.

We began our walk at 10:00AM at La Avenida Chapultepec y Niños Héroes and concluded at Minerva Square, where a stage had been erected in the street. After a brief discussion of the issue at hand, everyone was invited to release their balloons in a symbolic gesture representing the desired freedom from violence. Balloon releases aren't very common in the USA and, while I understand the reasoning behind it, that does not change the fact that it is a beautiful sight to behold.

Alas, this tree had other ideas...

The balloon release was followed by a mini-performance by "JC & Hugo." Although I am unfamiliar with their music, I will say that they were pretty good, despite some technical difficulties at the on-set, in which the stage crew played the wrong musical track...5 times.

JC & Hugo only entertained us for one song, at which point the mics were handed off to the equally taleneted...

"4a 2aRed." Individually, they are Ramon, Werita Rollon, Zalma, and Fer. Alas, my Google search came up empty for both groups. Not sure if they are local talent or up and comers, but as my first exposure to live music here in Mexico, I'd love to hear more from both groups.

A healthy walk for a wonderful cause. A surprise musical performance. A delicious brunch with TJ's coworkers (sorry, no pics, too busy eating). What a wonderful way to start the day.

Wait. START the day? Yes. Tune in next time for Sunday's awesome conclusion.

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.