Coming to America

Mum has been here with me since December 11th. It has been truly amazing. A few days after she arrived in NY, we were off to Miami to spend the first few days of Chanukah there. After days of sightseeing and stuffing ourselves at the many kosher restaurants there, we came back to NY to catch the Sarit Hadad concert in NYC on December 21st. I didn't expect it to be so much fun, but it really was. She has a very good voice. Then a few days later we were off to LA to suprise the family with a visit - no one from the family knew we were coming except for Uncle Raymond who picked us up from the airport. The children were stunned to see Mum and I there - they kept staring at us and blinking, as if the picture of Mum and I sitting on their beds was not quite registering! So after 10 days in LA, we are here, back in NY and spent Shabbos in Crown Heights. Mum leaves in a few days for Singapore - we hope to get more sightseeing done in Manhattan before then. Apart from that, I think the pictures below really speak volumes. Enjoy.

David, Tova, Shayna & I.

Mum & I at the Rose Parade Float Viewing, posing with the Cholent Cicak (pronounced 'chee-chak' which means lizard in Malay), so named for the thousands of cholent beans that were used to decorate its body.

My favourite float - a froggie made out of brussel sprouts, broccoli & limau asam (green limes).

Mum & I at a wedding in Williamsburg.

At Bryant Park in Manhattan. We almost went skating but the line was insane.

At Saks Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.

The Schlepper.

Tova & Shayna with Shandy the Couch. Nebach Shandy.

Mum & her sisters - Judy, Flexie and Susan (L-R)

In Miami.

Different strokes for different folks.

Near the Bal Harbour Shops in Bal Harbour, Florida.

Times Square. Gotta love those lights.

Sarit Hadad live in concert.

One very happy mother.

Yesterday was Yud-Tes Kislev (19th of Kislev) and Crown Heights was buzzing with activity. Amazing stories of the Alter Rebbe's release from prison were told and retold with enthusiasm and awe. Tonight, the fabrengens still continue (I just came from one- which happened to also be a birthday fabrengen of a friend of mine) and the air is filled with electricity. The festivities will continue through tomorrow, where at school we have a special program in honour of Yud-Yes Kislev.

Perhaps the event that touched me the most was a conversation I had with an elderly lady over Shabbos. She had sat down next to me at the table (I had no idea who she was, save that she was a fellow guest) and folded her frail hands in front of her as we listened to stories being told of the Alter Rebbe's arrest as a result of false accusations and his subsequent release from the Russian jail.

When the speaker finished, she turned to me and said "When I was a young girl, my father was arrested by the Russian government because he refused to send me to school on Shabbos. The police came to our house in the middle of the night and banged on our door. My father wanted to escape but he could not because the police had surrounded the house. He allowed himself to be arrested. He was then sent to a jail in Kazakhstan, where he wrote a letter to my mother, informing her of his whereabouts. My mother went to him, and when she finally met him, he looked sick, pale and weak after being tortured and starved for so long. He asked my mother for a drink of water, so my mum left him to find the water. By the time she got back to him with the water, he had passed away."

I blinked in disbelief. Until then, I was under the impression that the persecution of the Jews in Russia had been limited to those who were involved in spreading Yiddishkeit, for example, teachers, Rabbis and Rosh Yeshivas. I had no idea that others were targeted, and in such a manner.

Secondly, although I had heard stories before of Russian persecution, it had never been so personal in nature. Here was this frail old lady, telling me in her quiet dignity, why her father had passed away. It was overwhelming for me.

It says that the test of our generation is a more difficult one that our forefathers- its easy to be Jewish, to keep kosher, to keep Shabbos. But its also easy not to - and worse - still feel, act and think Jewish (shrimp cocktails at your bar-mitzvah, anyone ?).

The previous generation saw everything in black and white - die or be Jewish. For many, the answer was easy. One of the results of that mesiras nefesh (self-sacrifice) wound up sitting next to me this last Shabbos to tell her story.

In our generation, there is too much grey. We don't have to give up our lives to be Jewish any more. Synagogues in every major city in the world (and many small ones too !). More synagogues in most major neighbourhoods across America. Supermarket aisles overflowing with high-quality, fabulous-tasting kosher food. And we certainly don't have to be arrested for keeping our children home on Shabbos.

And yet, the "other side" is all-too tempting and within easy reach - on the next grocery shelf, in fact : Two types of potato chips, side by side. One is kosher, the other is not. Which one would you choose ?

CHANALE LIVE !

So I got to hear Chanale Fellig live in concert for the first time last night. It was a very special treat for me, because, like Matisyahu's music (I love this video by the way, check it out when you have time), I was already listening to Chanale's music while I was still in Singapore, getting excited about Yiddishkeit and looking forward to coming to Crown Heights. The event was held at the beautiful Razag Hall in Crown Heights.

What made last night's event even more special is that I had the opportunity to meet Chanale and her husband personally the previous night by a Shabbos table, where I made sure to tell her what a big fan I was of her music ! Personally, I don't think she ever expected her music to reach Singapore's shores. More pix from the event here.

Shabbos was amazing as usual, I keep meeting people whom I haven't seen the whole summer / Tishrei and its almost December ! Amazing. Meanwhile the weather is just awful. Its raining and cold. At least when it rains in Singapore, it stops after a while and you move on with your day. Here, it just ruins your mood. I can't wait for the weather to make up its mind and start with winter already. I am looking forward to the snow !!

And now, lehavdil, the thought for the day, taken from (part of) the Hayom Yom of 14 Cheshvan :

" "From G-d are man's steps established." Every one of Israel has a spiritual mission in life - which is to occupy himself with the work of construction, to make a "dwelling-place for G-d". Every one, regardless of his station or location, must, through an exhaustive search, seek out a spiritual livelihood with all the intensity of his strength, just as he seeks a material livelihood."

Have you done a mitzvah today?

More frustrations in halacha class.... We are learning the halachos of sharp foods, and I preface this entry by emphasising that this is a Intermediate/Advanced Level class.

The question was a classic : "What happens if I cut an onion with a fleishig (meat) knife and cook it in a milchig (milk) pot ?"

I squinted my eyes with suspicion. Was she kidding ? Too little sleep maybe ? Why would you cut anything with a fleishig knife and cook it in a milchig pot, let alone an onion !? Have you been listening to what Rabbi Hanoka (of the "OK" Hechsher fame) has been telling us in the last few weeks???

Don't get me wrong, I think no question is a silly question, I just feel that as mature young ladies, we need to be able to draw distinctions between : -

(a) learning the Halachas (laws)
(b) asking a shiloh (a question arising in Halacha, which should be asked of your Local Orthodox Rabbi)
(c) showing off knowledge (very annoying)
(d) asking abstract, theoratical questions which in all probability will never even arise and in the unlikely event that they do, they are meant for your Rabbi. That's what he is there for.
(e) harassing the teacher

In my humble opinion (ok maybe sometimes not so humble), its really not fair to the rest of the class who actually want to hear what the Rabbi has to say. Currently, we spend about 10-15 minutes learning the halachos and the remaning half an hour entertaining questions. Its ridiculous and I feel very strongly about it. I didn't come to school to waste my time listening to other people's shilohs.

BUUUUUUT that being said I realise I have to be more patient. Yes, yes I am not utterly devoid of feeling you know. Hmph. There are also some lighter moments in class, like when the Rabbi gave this response to a comment that was made in class :

"We don't need to be *frummer than the **Shulchan Aruch."

*more religious or observant
*Code of Jewish Law

Talk about nipping that baal teshuva zeal right in the bud. I could not stop laughing.....

and now, lehavdil, the quote of the day, which I decided to take from the Hayom Yom of 15 Cheshvan :

"The soul above awaits the time it will be privileged to descend into a body. For the soul senses how much it can accomplish here below - it can attain the level of "delighting with G-d". So what is everyone waiting for?"

Have a good one, folks. Remember, it could be your one more mitzvah that's going to bring Moshiach now!

MATISYAHU LIVE (finally)

Its been a year since I have lived in Crown Heights and 2 days ago was the first time I saw Matisyahu live in concert (I actually met him at the pizza store a few weeks after arriving last year - but that's a separate story for another time).

As I stood in front of the stage, I reached for my cell phone and called Tova and Shayna - no doubt his biggest fans on the West Coast - so that they could hear him live. Shayna was asleep but Tova got an earful and was bubbling over with excitement.

Matisyahu's performance was the surprise guest appearance at the melave malka (post Shabbos party/meal) on Motzei Shabbos. 2 friends and I helped with registration of over 500 college students that evening, and by 11pm, I was all people-ed out. I did not want to look at another registration form, security gaurd or tagged wrist.

But it was all good, especially the cheese blintzes, eggplant parmesan and lasagna. (and I always puzzle over why my weight-loss efforts are unsuccessful).

And on a completely different note, I was leafing through the calender today and realised that my Hebrew birthday coincides with my English birthday this year (5767). And the icing on the cake is that it falls out on Shabbos. Talk about a triple bracha (blessing) !

Back at school for the 2nd time in 7 weeks.... its been amazing, every single second of it. Rabbi Osdoba's Halacha (Jewish Law) Class is especially enlightening, particularly in light of what we are doing now - the laws of Muktze.

After having endured endless questions from the class starting with "but what if..." and "what about if", I have, on more than one occasion, fought the urge to get up and yell at my esteemed classmates "SO its muktze! SO don't touch it! SO would it kill you to leave it alone for a few hours until Shabbos gets out?!" No, I really don't care about what your intention was in respect of using that expensive china before it shattered into a million pieces on Shabbos and your subsequent dilemma of whether its muktze because you may have the urge to create mosaic art out of the beshattered bits. (Is beshattered even a word?)

To add insult to injury, I discovered today that I may have a phobia of blades. I have always been afraid of those "In-Sink- Erator" things (you know, that slicing mechanism that some sinks are fitted with in order to cut up garbage thats thrown into the sink, like peels etc - very common here but I believed banned in Singapore), because I always imagine hands and fingers getting stuck down there while the switch gets flipped on. It genuinely frightens me, even though we never had one of those in our house, so much so that whenever I hear that switched getting flipped on (my aunt in LA has this THING in her sink) my hair literally stands on edge the entire time its on and I feel slightly nauseas. Images of blood, minced tissue and broken bones run through my mind. I am not joking.

Today, however, I discovered that the phobia appears to be in respect of blades in general, because I was afraid to operate the new coffee grinder I purchased after I saw the blades. (I have never owned a food processor or a grinder prior to today). I was literally frozen in fear as I held the mechanism in my hands as it did its thing (such is the nature of hand-held grinders. It didn't help that the instructions said "hold the blender tightly with both hands"). I was so convinced that the thing would malfunction, suddenly breaking open, blades popping out and spinning all over the place... uhhh well you can imagine the rest... just thinking about it gives me the heeby jeebies. It was a full 10 minutes before my heart rate returned to normal after that (not exaggerating).

So this is my question : am I the only one with such a phobia? Is it just silliness on my part? Am I making In-Sink- Erators out of half-inch blades?

A LITTLE BIT OF HEAVEN

I spent last weekend in Newtown & Yardley, Pennsylvania. I had no idea that America could be so beautiful. Everything about it was quaint, right down to the Starbucks built into the ubiquitous pre-colonial structures.

I have decided that my next Big Project is to move to suburbia. Of course, at this point, I would probably have to sell a kidney just to be able to afford the picket fence (if even that).

My love affair with American suburbia continues even though :-

a) I can't afford it
b) there are many more skunks in suburbia than there are in Brooklyn (I know, I smelled several of them)
c) there is some interesting plant growth there, the kind that you brush against accidentally and your skin ends up itching for hours (I know, it happened to me). In Brooklyn, you are lucky to find a plant that is not half dead
d) everyone knows who you are
e) Manhattan is very far away
f) the streets remind me vaguely of the set of Desperate Housewives (I was realistic enough, however, not to hold my breath waiting for the cute gardener to appear.)

So, while my dreams now consist of white picket fences and Starbucks in quaint buildings, I continue to live my (more than comfortable) existence in good ol' Crown Heights, where crime continues to be on the rise (my landlord's car was broken into 5 days ago- glass smashed and everything - the scary part is that the car was parked 10 feet from my door) and the weather continues its funky journey into the fall.

Don't get me wrong, I love Crown Heights. But for now, I just can't get that white picket fence out of my head.....