Ethnocentric trance

My son called this morning to thank me for the fruit basket he just received for Rosh Hashanah. "Tell me, Mom," he complained, "Why must you send me so much food? There is no way on earth I will be able to eat all the fruit and nuts that's in this basket! Just once, could you send me a card or something simple like that?" I laughed and jumped up and down. The perfect reaction from a perfect son to his perfectly Jewish mother on Rosh Hashanah!

One of the reasons I enjoyed celebrating holidays in Israel was because we were not in the minority. When it came time for Rosh Hashanah, all the schools, stores, why the whole country, closed down, and celebration was in the air. Fine clothes, food, cards, gifts, flowers, candles, and honey flowed everywhere.

When I came to America 18 years ago, my old minority days, growing up in Rhodesia, living in the diaspora of my youth, rose up and punched me in the stomach. Each Rosh Hashanah and Passover, in Buffalo, the loneliness and alienation was acute. One year, I bought myself a Rosh Hashanah greeting card and sent it around to all the staff at the Child Care Center requesting they sign it and wish me a Happy New Year! They were mortified! Some were grateful. I had brought to their attention the fact that there were religions other than Christian in their midst. I shook them out of their ethnocentric trance!

Now, just as a reminder, I am, in fact, a declared atheist. So why should I care? And yet I do. Go figure!

Even though my partner, Tom's last name is Jacobson and his nose is as aquiline as can be, that does not make him Jewish. No sirree. The nose comes genetically from his being one sixteenth Chippewa Cree and his name? Well ... Norway. Yes indeed. Norwegian. And every year he forgets the what, when and how of my Jewish holiday cravings. This cranks me. In particular because we do make such a fuss of Christmas. Months in advance we plan, prepare, buy the tree, decorate, wrap the millions of gifts, and even visit the Unitarian Church for the midnight service on Christmas Eve.  So why oh why can't he remember - just once - one of my holidays? I mean, before I remind and whine and bug him about it? Oh, I know. He will come dashing in from work tonight bearing a card he rushed to pick up from the drugstore nearby as he was heading out, in a panic because he realized he missed it!

Now don't get me wrong. I adore celebrating Christmas just as I would any other holiday from any religion or culture. I just love the idea of people getting together and celebrating community no matter what or who they are. I remember one year when our Christmas tree was decorated, aglow with lights, and gifts starting to pile up under it. I invited some friends over for the first night of Hanukkah to light some candles and eat sufganiyot with me. On the table by the Hanukkiyah stood a large wooden Buddha that Tom had brought me from China the summer before to add to my Buddha collection. Nag Champa was burning and filling the room with its pungent, spiritual odor. My favorite incense that I burn when I practice pranayama daily. I looked at the scene and smiled: Twinkling tree, glowing Hanukkah candles, dish of sufganiot, serene Buddha, and smoke twirling upwards from the incense - "perfect combination!" I thought.

And so, here it is. Rosh Hashanah again and the blues are starting to descend upon me. No greetings from work-mates. No greetings from friends and acquaintances. Why don't people know that when I lived those 19 years in Israel, Rosh Hashanah was the only time we ever sent each other greeting cards? Why doesn't anyone know this here, in Philadelphia? I feel driven to becoming an ardent believer, a religious fanatic, to huddle with my people across the seas. I long for family as I think of them all gathering together, sitting at a huge Rosh Hashanah dinner a few hours from now in Michmoret or up in the Galilee.

Oh dear, did I forget to mention that one of my new colleagues at work invited us to a Rosh Hashanah lunch tomorrow? Yesterday she asked me what I was doing for the holiday. I made some kind of a weird, comical facial gesture, and replied, "Weeping all alone" (Could you just die for me right here and now for the pathetic victim display?). "Oh well!" she declared, "You must come over and join our family for lunch on Saturday." To my dismay and embarrassment my eyes welled up with tears that, without any control, started to roll down my cheeks (did I ever tell you that I often clown instead of saying how I really feel?). I was caught!

And so, instead of moping around wiping the floor with a gloomy countenance and heavy heart, I think I will dash out to Chestnut Hill and buy a huge bouquet of flowers and, perhaps, a bottle of red wine. What the hay! I can ring in the Jewish New Year even if I am an ethnic minority. So what!

It is a New Year (Shana Chadasha) indeed. New friends opening their home to me, laughing kindly at my embarrassment and tears of gratitude yesterday. A new era. A time to put aside all those funky blues and feelings of alienation and simply rejoice in the community of a new, sweet world (olam matok).

Shana Tova (Happy New Year), if you choose to celebrate!

A year ago on Tamarika: Remembering Old Friends

Comments

[tamarika]

Thanks to all of you for your greetings and wishes. Gee, I hope I did not sound too much like a poor little victim in my post! Actually I was sort of laughing at myself and exploring what Danny describes as the "Jewish/atheist angst!" I think that Clouds has a great idea about preparing hosting a lovely Rosh Hashanah dinner of my own next year and telling you all about it. Indeed, why sit around crying in my beer instead of organizing something lovely and friendly!

Veenu and Semina, welcome. I will stop by and visit you. Am always so excited to meet new blogger journeyers along the way!

Oh, and by the way - lunch with new friends was fabulous!!!!!

[Clouds]

(Clouds here again)Oh dear, Tamar, reading my too-long comment worried me. It seemed too disconnected. I left out something important, didn't say out loud, or didn't say enough, that my heart went out to you, that I'm so sorry you feel so culturally alone. Hope the gathering with the new friends will nurture your soul.
Clous

[Semina]

Shana Tova a very Sweet New Year to you.
Your description of your home at Christmas makes me smile.
In my home one can also see evidence of many other religions along with my own Christian religion. If I may be so presumptuous, I would describe us as citizens of the world with our deep rooted traditions tugging at our hearts. I think it is a good to honor our fellow human beings and their beliefs, as in truth we are all one.
I hope you will come and visit me at my new blog home. Semina :}

[Clouds]

Shana Tova! Good thing you told me exactly what to say because, no, I'd have had no idea. I know that an after-the-fact greeting does not erase the pain that already occurred. If I had known it was the Jewish New Year, maybe I would have said it to you before the day. Of course, in truth, the chances of me remembering this for next year are almost nil. I also never remember when the Buddhist New Year is for my Buddhist friends - it simply has no context in my life, no hook of repeated experiences to grab any sort of consistent memory-making. And of course, there are no relentless commercial reminders of non-Christian holidays - that's not a bad thing, in my book. I rarely say Merry Christmas, either, for the very reason that I can't tell if the person I'm speaking to is Christian. :)
Of course, loneliness and forgotten-ness do not have only to do with the various minorities. It can be doubly excrutiating to be in the so-called majority and be left completely, entirely, and utterly alone on Christmas Day. No, I am not a practicing Christian, though I was raised as such, and even have strong feelings against how Christmas is done here, but the day itself is such a powerful family-day, used to be such for me, busy with cooking and hosting and filling my house with people I loved, that it is now my worst day of the year. And here I am solidly in the majority. But then, if I actually went to a church, was actually involoved with an actual community of those who celebrate Christmas, then it would be highly unlikely for me to be alone or forgotten on Christmas Day.
(Maybe you could start planning now for hosting a warm and wonderful gathering to celebrate next year's New Year! Make a loving tradition for yourself - I sure would come, eager to learn about the traditions. Maybe you could share with us, here in the blog, the details of all the preparations, so we could share in the honoring with you.)
Shana Tova!!
Clouds

[veenu]

Happy New Year!!Across the miles....wishing you health, happiness and sunshine days...and happy blogging.Because I love to read your posts.And share life with you-so tonight's "Dinner Tonight" is for you and Tom!