I went to two Passover seders. Yes, ME, TWO Passoer seders. I'm breaking down the walls of my family's traditions to form my own. Normally, we do just one night of Passover seder, read the Haggadah and just eat.
First night, my friend Jon and I went to my friend Sam's family friends' house in Farmington Hills. They had about 21 people there so two big tables, one for the Baby Boomers and the other for Generation Y. This seder was the fastest one I had ever been to- we were done with the whole Hagaddah within 40 minutes. I was shocked when we got to Dayanieu already! This particular book, I think, is from Israel and mainly pulls specific relevant passages from various books of the Torah to allow for discussion and interpretations. At times, I read the Hebrew, at times, I read the English. We sang a few songs, including Hada Gadya which was pretty cute and funny (reminded me of "I Know a Lady Who Swallowed the Fly"). I forgot my glasses so I read more English...
The food menu was big! The mother made her own geflite fish and assembled it in a bundt pan so that was a cool presentation. She also made brisket (which looked more like pot roast to me), sweet and sour meatballs, and cranberry chicken as well as broccoli souffle and apple matzah kugel. She also made a bunch of desserts. So needless to say, I was very full!
I enjoyed meeting and talking to other students at different stages of their academic careers - age ranging from 16 to about 26. The girls next to me were so excited about the majors and what they wanted to do. Sam's sister was learning ASL at her high school so she asked me a few questions as well.
In the car, on the way home, Jon and I talked about how nice the whole seder was. He admitted that it was his first seder in... years. Years? Yes, years that he couldn't even remember what was the last one. I listened as he discussed his search for his Jewish identity and offered a few words here and there to clarify his thoughts. He never kept Passover and asked what else besides bread is prohibited during Passover. I explained the two different traditions- Ashkenazic and Sephardic. Stunned? You'd think after intensively studying American Jewish history, I wouldn't be surprised at anything... but not to observe Passover... it was unthinkable to me. But the most important is that he came and enjoyed himself! And of course, made him think a little.
Second night was at Sam's house so Sam and I drove together. We chatted the whole way about Jewish stuff ranging from one of the professors to our siblings to Holocaust. The seder was smaller- mainly minus most of the Gen Y. It was all still good with good food. The seder was a bit longer since we did more discussions of the text (same book from the night before). We looked at the Hebrew equivalent as well and discussed some wording, including the word "Mitzrahyim" and explanation of why use that word instead of "Egypt", as well as children's names when they came to the Land of Canaan since the Israelites had Egyptian names. Sam entertained some of us with his attempts to drink full glasses of grape juice (had it been wine, he would've been sorely drunk). We teased him as he filled his cup to the brim not to spill anything on his mother's white table cloth. We also had masks that represented each plague so I was cattles- I joked that I might as well be the Mad Cow Disease!
Sam's mother was just as Jewish mother as the other mother- I was busy talking to Sam's sister... and she came over to me and showed me a plate, "You're so busy talking that I just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on the food!!!"
She made turkey, brisket (real brisket), potato kugel, matzah stuffing, carrot souffle, and some broccoli along with the usual matzah ball soup and geflite fish. She also had an array of assorted desserts. I appreciated everything! She also let me take some food as well.
Time to begin cutting back on the food and look forward to the rest of Passover.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Kashering the Kitchen
For the first time in my life, I kashered my own kitchen. I have helped at Colgate but nothing on my own. I had a nagging feeling in me for several weeks to clean and scrub down my kitchen and separate everything. Seriously. I wanted to feel that connection to the Jewish tradition.
So what did I do?
1) Cleaned the oven the best I could with bleach.
2) Packed up all chametz goods, including beans, pasta, rice, and mac n cheese in a grocery bag and put it in the hallway closet. I put the tortilla wraps in the freezer (you can freeze it apparently).
3) Put all of my dishes, glasses, and silverware in the dishwasher.
4) Wiped down counters with very hot water and a new sponge.
5) Set the old sponges to the opposite end of the sink for my roommate to use (she's Korean).
6) Wiped off the shelves, placed plastic wrap up to divide my side from my roommate's side of the cabinets and sealed it with packaging tape. Then I laid out foil. And then I put Passover-friendly stuff back on the shelves.
7) Took off the placemats from the table and put them in the grocery bag.
8) Moved the toaster off the counter. I also do not plan to use the microwave since you can't really kasher it.
9) Wrote a long note to my roommate explaining what I did and what is Passover and for her not to use my stuff unless she promises to use very hot water and that sponge that I put out for my own use.
And this was her response:
Although I couldn't do every single thing, I did the best I could. I'm awfully proud and doing all this didn't really feel like *work*. I am separating Passover from the other days. I want to feel that special meaning of Passover as an extended Shabbat from our ingulences (although Passover can be worse than regular days because of "special" food that we have specially prepared for this time of the year like gefilte fish and chorset). I'm not even freaking out over my meals.
My meals will mainly consist of:
Breakfast: Yogurt, fruit, milk, matzah with butter, eggs, and perhaps if I can dare myself, make quinoa with apples and walnut with a dash of cinnamon.
Lunch: Protein (chicken or hard-boiled eggs) on top of spinach and whatever other vegetables I have on hand to make a salad. I may eat half a matzah.
Dinner: Fish, or quinoa with meatsauce (courtesy of my mother that she gave me several months ago) with vegetables.
Snacks/Desserts: Fruit, flavored yogurt, macaroons, ice cream form Ben and Jerry's, and carrots
Not bad.
So I announced to Grandma that I had kashered my own kitchen. She was so proud and asked me what did I do. After telling her the steps I took, she said, "Wow! You really went all the way!" Almost to her way anyway, more than my mother (her version of "kashering" is cleaning the fridge and taping the cabinet doors shut. She also considers Passover a "break" from cooking so whatever she plans to use for cooking during the week, she will just take them out of the cupboards). Then we started talking about grocery shopping. I told her that there isn't much in Ann Arbor for Passover food except for Zingerman's and Whole Foods in terms of prepared food (I'm considering myself too lazy to make charoset at the moment). She said, "But Whole Foods isn't kosher for Passover. They make Passover food but they're not kosher!" Hm, okay, I think I will just get charoset anyway.
The next morning, while eating my breakfast of yogurt with some maple syrup mixed in and matzah, I decided that my matzah needed something. So I got a tub of butter out. While eating, I began thinking about what Grandma said. Hmm... I looked at the tub and read the ingredients. It had soybeans in it! I was, "whoa, this isn't kosher for Passover." I carefully put it back in the fridge. Then I looked at my cupboard again and read that Pam isn't kosher either, it's got soy lechitin. I thought, "And I have chicken being soaked in marinade in the fridge with Pam sprayed in it.... I promptly took it out and wrapped up the chicken and put it in the freezer and pulled out another package to thaw. And I washed the pan again. I also realized that my favorite mints also contain soy lechitin as most candies do.
So, I began wondering, "Well, if I can't use Pam to grease the pan, then what do I use for meat?" I went over to the supermarket and looked at the spray can that's "kosher for Passover". I almost laughed out loud, for $5.99, the primary ingredient was olive oil! I would be just paying for a can spray of olive oil! I'll just go use my olive oil and put some on a towel and grease my pans that way.
Oh Pesach. It has its way of raising awareness among all of us in terms of what we buy and eat.
Here's a relevant NYT article about food waste and Passover.
So what did I do?
1) Cleaned the oven the best I could with bleach.
2) Packed up all chametz goods, including beans, pasta, rice, and mac n cheese in a grocery bag and put it in the hallway closet. I put the tortilla wraps in the freezer (you can freeze it apparently).
3) Put all of my dishes, glasses, and silverware in the dishwasher.
4) Wiped down counters with very hot water and a new sponge.
5) Set the old sponges to the opposite end of the sink for my roommate to use (she's Korean).
6) Wiped off the shelves, placed plastic wrap up to divide my side from my roommate's side of the cabinets and sealed it with packaging tape. Then I laid out foil. And then I put Passover-friendly stuff back on the shelves.
7) Took off the placemats from the table and put them in the grocery bag.
8) Moved the toaster off the counter. I also do not plan to use the microwave since you can't really kasher it.
9) Wrote a long note to my roommate explaining what I did and what is Passover and for her not to use my stuff unless she promises to use very hot water and that sponge that I put out for my own use.
And this was her response:
Although I couldn't do every single thing, I did the best I could. I'm awfully proud and doing all this didn't really feel like *work*. I am separating Passover from the other days. I want to feel that special meaning of Passover as an extended Shabbat from our ingulences (although Passover can be worse than regular days because of "special" food that we have specially prepared for this time of the year like gefilte fish and chorset). I'm not even freaking out over my meals.
My meals will mainly consist of:
Breakfast: Yogurt, fruit, milk, matzah with butter, eggs, and perhaps if I can dare myself, make quinoa with apples and walnut with a dash of cinnamon.
Lunch: Protein (chicken or hard-boiled eggs) on top of spinach and whatever other vegetables I have on hand to make a salad. I may eat half a matzah.
Dinner: Fish, or quinoa with meatsauce (courtesy of my mother that she gave me several months ago) with vegetables.
Snacks/Desserts: Fruit, flavored yogurt, macaroons, ice cream form Ben and Jerry's, and carrots
Not bad.
So I announced to Grandma that I had kashered my own kitchen. She was so proud and asked me what did I do. After telling her the steps I took, she said, "Wow! You really went all the way!" Almost to her way anyway, more than my mother (her version of "kashering" is cleaning the fridge and taping the cabinet doors shut. She also considers Passover a "break" from cooking so whatever she plans to use for cooking during the week, she will just take them out of the cupboards). Then we started talking about grocery shopping. I told her that there isn't much in Ann Arbor for Passover food except for Zingerman's and Whole Foods in terms of prepared food (I'm considering myself too lazy to make charoset at the moment). She said, "But Whole Foods isn't kosher for Passover. They make Passover food but they're not kosher!" Hm, okay, I think I will just get charoset anyway.
The next morning, while eating my breakfast of yogurt with some maple syrup mixed in and matzah, I decided that my matzah needed something. So I got a tub of butter out. While eating, I began thinking about what Grandma said. Hmm... I looked at the tub and read the ingredients. It had soybeans in it! I was, "whoa, this isn't kosher for Passover." I carefully put it back in the fridge. Then I looked at my cupboard again and read that Pam isn't kosher either, it's got soy lechitin. I thought, "And I have chicken being soaked in marinade in the fridge with Pam sprayed in it.... I promptly took it out and wrapped up the chicken and put it in the freezer and pulled out another package to thaw. And I washed the pan again. I also realized that my favorite mints also contain soy lechitin as most candies do.
So, I began wondering, "Well, if I can't use Pam to grease the pan, then what do I use for meat?" I went over to the supermarket and looked at the spray can that's "kosher for Passover". I almost laughed out loud, for $5.99, the primary ingredient was olive oil! I would be just paying for a can spray of olive oil! I'll just go use my olive oil and put some on a towel and grease my pans that way.
Oh Pesach. It has its way of raising awareness among all of us in terms of what we buy and eat.
Here's a relevant NYT article about food waste and Passover.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Hebrew University and WWII
Very cool find from my research on American Jews in the WWII. This image was in some back pages of Rochester's Jewish Ledger, published in mid-March 1942. As a historian, although the job can get tedious reading for keywords in a microfilm machine that can spin my head, I never know what I will find!
Another really awesome find although I haven't exactly verified this yet. Published on March 13, 1942, there was a blurb on the bottom of the front page saying that the Japanese had captured and shot the Commander-in-Chief of the Chinese Nationalist Army. And this man was... Jewish! He was born in London and emigrated to Winnipeg at the age of 12. Then in 1922, he moved to China and became associated with Sun Yat-Sen, who at the time controlled the Chinese Nationalist Party and most of China. Somehow along the way, he joined the military and rose in the ranks.... but a Jew?
That was... really bizarre. And Google failed to help me with this.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Nate Back
This past Tuesday, March 3rd, my dear friend, Nate Back, passed away of lymphoma cancer.
I knew things weren't going well when his daughter, Rachel, canceled her trip to Michigan for a poetry reading and Hebrew translation seminar last week. But I was stuck in San Francisco without my headset and my laptop's sound card wasn't working. Also, I had received a note from Tobi this week saying that he was weak, first time she's really said it in the letters.
I had hoped so much to be able to see him this summer and pull out some more stories and wisdom from him about my grandfather.
Nate shared my grandfather's sense of humor and belief in fairness. I appreciated his perspective as an outsider of my family who has known my family for a long time. He had wonderful love for Israel and it showed when he sat and davened in his living room or at the table on the balcony with the Old City in his direct view. Every time I looked at him, at the age of 81, it's obvious that he had seen a lot in his life by looking at his face, lined with soft wrinkles and kind eyes filled with understanding of life experience. He witnessed and participated in the Wars of 1948 and 1967. He watched this country transform over the years through early work and annual month-long stay for years up to 2000 before making official aliyah. Even though he didn't exactly speak in Hebrew fluently, he enjoyed so much of what Israel and Jerusalem had to offer as he made trips around the country, especially in the North. He wasn't shy about discussing Israeli and religious politics as he and I often got into intense discussions that Tobi sometimes would put a stop to it by moving onto the next course of the meal.
Nate taught me to try not be judgmental and truly examine from all sides, not just the victim's story. He taught me that even not all Orthodox agree with the ultra Orthodox's policies and demands, that its really more of a gray world, not simply black and white. He taught me to continue doing things because I want to, not for anyone else as he was quick to point out that I usually sought out approval in order to be liked.
I think the important lesson that he taught me as an elder, was the process of aging and dealing with it, and how quickly time can fly without realizing it. My father's parents were reaching to the last stage of their lives when I became more aware as a child in their 80s. We mostly relaxed and enjoyed each other's company when I visited them in Miami. So there wasn't much for me to adjust except for their deaths when I was 14, just as I was maturing to greater understanding of my world and history. My mother's parents, on the other hand, were in their 50s when I was born, and still in terrific health with the ability to be on the go. Now they are in their 70s and are beginning to show signs of aging that I refused to ignore, or overlooked.
It began through a dialogue relating to my grandfather's apperance as a selfish person that put me in a tight spot where I couldn't find a way around the argument and he ended it by saying, "There's no other way, right? You're young and he isn't and he's only trying his best within his own limits to show his love for you." He made me realize that I needed to remember that my grandparents, all of them, are getting on with their age and I couldn't always see them as they were 10 years ago. Time flew and it's so easy to forget that aging did bring on physical and mental difficulties that all of us need to learn how to accommodate. After all, as the oldest grandchild of the Lippman family, I had the privilege of being able to do so much like taking trips and having jam-packed days in Buffalo and New York City and having all these memories from the past 20 years.
Thus, he taught me a very important lesson about grandparents and aging. This is a long process that I am witnessing with them. And it's time for me to start holding their hand and walk with them instead of the other way around. I have to bite my lower lip as I think about how I have to start scraping together some money and time in order to see them because it's time for them to count on me to see them instead of me nervously waiting near the door. They are now in good health but it's going to be a long decade or so ahead of us. And as a historian, I can't let them go yet.
I am gtateful to have had the opportunity to meet this man and be his friend. He was a very good friend to me- I think I would have been very lost in Israel otherwise.
אני מתגעגעת אותך ניסן
I knew things weren't going well when his daughter, Rachel, canceled her trip to Michigan for a poetry reading and Hebrew translation seminar last week. But I was stuck in San Francisco without my headset and my laptop's sound card wasn't working. Also, I had received a note from Tobi this week saying that he was weak, first time she's really said it in the letters.
I had hoped so much to be able to see him this summer and pull out some more stories and wisdom from him about my grandfather.
Nate shared my grandfather's sense of humor and belief in fairness. I appreciated his perspective as an outsider of my family who has known my family for a long time. He had wonderful love for Israel and it showed when he sat and davened in his living room or at the table on the balcony with the Old City in his direct view. Every time I looked at him, at the age of 81, it's obvious that he had seen a lot in his life by looking at his face, lined with soft wrinkles and kind eyes filled with understanding of life experience. He witnessed and participated in the Wars of 1948 and 1967. He watched this country transform over the years through early work and annual month-long stay for years up to 2000 before making official aliyah. Even though he didn't exactly speak in Hebrew fluently, he enjoyed so much of what Israel and Jerusalem had to offer as he made trips around the country, especially in the North. He wasn't shy about discussing Israeli and religious politics as he and I often got into intense discussions that Tobi sometimes would put a stop to it by moving onto the next course of the meal.
Nate taught me to try not be judgmental and truly examine from all sides, not just the victim's story. He taught me that even not all Orthodox agree with the ultra Orthodox's policies and demands, that its really more of a gray world, not simply black and white. He taught me to continue doing things because I want to, not for anyone else as he was quick to point out that I usually sought out approval in order to be liked.
I think the important lesson that he taught me as an elder, was the process of aging and dealing with it, and how quickly time can fly without realizing it. My father's parents were reaching to the last stage of their lives when I became more aware as a child in their 80s. We mostly relaxed and enjoyed each other's company when I visited them in Miami. So there wasn't much for me to adjust except for their deaths when I was 14, just as I was maturing to greater understanding of my world and history. My mother's parents, on the other hand, were in their 50s when I was born, and still in terrific health with the ability to be on the go. Now they are in their 70s and are beginning to show signs of aging that I refused to ignore, or overlooked.
It began through a dialogue relating to my grandfather's apperance as a selfish person that put me in a tight spot where I couldn't find a way around the argument and he ended it by saying, "There's no other way, right? You're young and he isn't and he's only trying his best within his own limits to show his love for you." He made me realize that I needed to remember that my grandparents, all of them, are getting on with their age and I couldn't always see them as they were 10 years ago. Time flew and it's so easy to forget that aging did bring on physical and mental difficulties that all of us need to learn how to accommodate. After all, as the oldest grandchild of the Lippman family, I had the privilege of being able to do so much like taking trips and having jam-packed days in Buffalo and New York City and having all these memories from the past 20 years.
Thus, he taught me a very important lesson about grandparents and aging. This is a long process that I am witnessing with them. And it's time for me to start holding their hand and walk with them instead of the other way around. I have to bite my lower lip as I think about how I have to start scraping together some money and time in order to see them because it's time for them to count on me to see them instead of me nervously waiting near the door. They are now in good health but it's going to be a long decade or so ahead of us. And as a historian, I can't let them go yet.
I am gtateful to have had the opportunity to meet this man and be his friend. He was a very good friend to me- I think I would have been very lost in Israel otherwise.
אני מתגעגעת אותך ניסן
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Waltz with Bashir
I saw Waltz with Bashir, an Israeli film that won the best foreign film category in the Oscars. Zev told me a bit about it and described it as a "difficult" movie to sit through because of its context. The movie is based on the protagonist's attempts to remember the 1982 Lebanon War, particularly the massarces at Sabra and Shatilia. He searches out his buddies from the army to figure out what happened and where he was throughout the war. Everyone offered their most pogionant memories.
I did not expect the movie to be animated so I was certainly turned off at first with the sights of wolves running through the city. But over time, I began to appreciate the markings and lines that separated this particular animation style from the recent cartoons on Cartoon Network (I really don't watch anything anyway because I don't like the new techniques). The faces were very expressive and beautifully done, especially the eyes and mouths.
It's also quite graphic by nature with several sexual and nude scenes. So clearly given the overall context and graphics, I would not allow anyone under the age of 17 to see this.
I could understand some of the Hebrew but I'm not sure if it was just the actors' voices or the surround system in the theater that made it harder for me to understand as the language was simple enough for me to read the subtitles in Hebrew (say, instead of English).
The story was interesting but slightly disturbing. You could sense the silence. Clearly Ariel Shaon was an ass in there- he "knew" about it but didn't do anything. I think the silence bothered me more than the gun fires and people getting wounded.
I also think that it does demand the audience to have an understanding of the Israeli military culture- the fears, the need for survival, and the physical toughness. It was almost as if I was watching Jews actually doing something like living out in the desert and fighting under gunfire instead of them hiding behind their Torah. This was exactly the image that Israel wanted to have. If you don't get how they can live in the desert and improvise their cooking, certainly, you're in a very comfortable place.
I would watch this movie again and really analyze it.
I did not expect the movie to be animated so I was certainly turned off at first with the sights of wolves running through the city. But over time, I began to appreciate the markings and lines that separated this particular animation style from the recent cartoons on Cartoon Network (I really don't watch anything anyway because I don't like the new techniques). The faces were very expressive and beautifully done, especially the eyes and mouths.
It's also quite graphic by nature with several sexual and nude scenes. So clearly given the overall context and graphics, I would not allow anyone under the age of 17 to see this.
I could understand some of the Hebrew but I'm not sure if it was just the actors' voices or the surround system in the theater that made it harder for me to understand as the language was simple enough for me to read the subtitles in Hebrew (say, instead of English).
The story was interesting but slightly disturbing. You could sense the silence. Clearly Ariel Shaon was an ass in there- he "knew" about it but didn't do anything. I think the silence bothered me more than the gun fires and people getting wounded.
I also think that it does demand the audience to have an understanding of the Israeli military culture- the fears, the need for survival, and the physical toughness. It was almost as if I was watching Jews actually doing something like living out in the desert and fighting under gunfire instead of them hiding behind their Torah. This was exactly the image that Israel wanted to have. If you don't get how they can live in the desert and improvise their cooking, certainly, you're in a very comfortable place.
I would watch this movie again and really analyze it.
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