This week has been filled with plenty of fun, although for the most part it seemed routine. I was apprehensive that I wouldn't have enough to blog about this week, but as I have previously stated, everything always works out. Yet again, it did. However, I cannot attest to honing in on my photography skills this week, so instead I will display skylines from the cities I hope to grace over the next month and a half. Firstly, I'm planning a big birthday bash in Eilat, party boat and all. If you're reading this, COME! Also, I signed up for a Prague weekend through an organization on campus. Lastly, I am currently planning spring break trips to Venice, Barcelona, and Istanbul. When I return, my poetic talents will be channeled into a song entitled "Hebrews in Venice", to the tune of the Jay and 'Ye song which need not be named at this time (actually I'll probably start this soon). So basically this past week I've been looking into planning my future holiday. Nothing too extraordinary, except we did throw a killer rager in our apartment, which lent itself to the title of this post. But so far I have only written two paragraphs, and that definitely does not satisfy my personal blogging requirements. Hence, I was really hoping to have a crazy, cooky, memorable, and distinct Shabbos dinner.
As it turns out, my Shabbos dinner this week was crazy, cooky, memorable, and distinct. Spending this weekend in Jerusalem, a few friends and I decided to play it safe and get set up with a family for Friday night dinner. The man who took us in was Reb Chaim (I'm not sure if we ever did learn his last name). We arrived at his residence around 5:30 PM, and by the time he opened the door for us, it was 6 PM. He explained that they were not yet ready for us, and when they did let us in, we were promptly escorted to an unlit children's room where ten of us gathered on bunk beds/ the floor and shot the breeze for another half an hour. By this time we were all very hungry and confused. When we finally sat down to the table, I noticed that this place was decorated unlike any home I had ever seen. There were pictures of both rabbis and secular people hanging all over the walls (half of them off-kilter), multicolored spheres draping down from numerous spots on the ceiling, and posters (mostly neon colored) filling all other white space. Lights flashed on and off in the corner, and I couldn't help being reminded of my room in the frat house.
We began the meal with Shalom Aleichem, during which we paused between stanzas and Reb Chaim would go off on a tangent. I'm almost positive we never came back to "Zeitschem L'Shalom". We waited another half an hour before the Reb decided to proceed with Kiddush, and I do not speak in hyperbole when I say that this was the longest Kiddush I have ever witnessed. Every single syllable was thoroughly pronounced, and after about ten minutes of blessing the wine, our stomachs growled and our blood boiled. After the ode to God for his gift of fermented grapes, Reb Chaim gave a personal two-minute blessing to each of us sitting at the table. There were about twenty of us. It was actually scary how applicable his blessings were to most of our lives. I unfortunately don't remember mine as it was very hard to take everything in from the night, but a couple of my dinner-mates were pretty spooked. At one point, the Reb actually tried convincing my friend Robyn that her father owned a store. Their banter went on for about five minutes and ended with Reb Chaim advising Robyn not to bet all of her money that her dad didn't own a store.
By the time we took our first bite of bread, it was 8:00 PM. To say that we were ravenous would be a gross understatement. Between the appetizers and main course, which didn't begin until 9:30 PM, Reb Chaim told many a tale, each more elaborate and far-fetched than the next. One was actually a ghost story, during which he would briefly stop and interrogate random guests on their level of faith in the veracity of his anecdote. He was actually quite the storyteller, and for the most part, each story had a clear and amiable message. Throughout the meal, Reb Chaim took out royal robes from his closet and had each of us exchange them at random intervals. I got to wear a particularly enchanting burgundy robe for quite a lengthy period, and I must admit that I really took a liking to it.
Nothing I have said up to this point will do justice to how abnormal the night was, or how disillusioned we sat for hours, or how much we all ended up really enjoying the experience. It was one of those experiences where it truly is impossible to breathe everything in, but luckily this blog will serve as a lasting memory of one incredibly crazy, cooky, memorable, and distinct Shabbos dinner.
Classes start tomorrow, which I am actually pretty excited about. It will be nice to learn more than just Hebrew, although I really will miss my ulpan class. Off to write "Hebrews in Venice".
See ya next week,
Zac
No comments:
Post a Comment