Thursday, December 15, 2016

Tein Shabbat V'tein Shalom

12/15

“More than the Jews have kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath has kept the Jews.” 
-Ahad Ha'am


Last Shabbat, I participated in and helped facilitate what I thought was one of my most moving Jewish experiences in recent memory. Sam and I hosted a remarkable Shabbat dinner (Pictured above; sorry for not smiling), and I want to share the experience here.

Sam and I have both been making friends and contacts throughout the Jewish community in Budapest, and we have been excited to see some new opportunities and experiences coming from those networks. One example was that we had both connected with a man named Gyuri who is very involved in the Jewish community and currently runs a seminar that trains Hungarians to be able to lead Taglit Birthright trips. The training focuses on much more skill and content building than simply leading the Israel trip. One such focus is on expanding familiarity with different types of basic Jewish knowledge and experiences. As such, Gyuri asked Sam and me if we would be willing to host a Shabbat dinner that would include the full menu of Shabbat traditions, while also presenting Shabbat in a very interesting and accessible way. Of course we agreed!

The final guest list included Sam, Gyuri, and me, Gyuri's American friend who was visiting from Israel, 3 participants of the Taglit training, 2 of our friends who live at the Budapest Moishe House, and 2 American friends who are in Budapest studying abroad. So in total, we had 11 people, including 6 Hungarians and 5 Americans, ages ranging from 19-30, and Shabbat experience ranging from first Shabbat ever to weekly Shabbat observers.

After initial shmoozing in our living room area, we opened the formal Shabbat experience with a general introduction to Shabbat, during which Sam and I introduced ourselves and shared what Shabbat means to us and how we have marked the day throughout our lives. Since Shabbat had actually started hours earlier, we did not light candles, but we mentioned that lighting candles marks the ritual and spiritual transition into Shabbat, and that the eyes are covered during the blessing as a sort of meditation to guide that transition. Accordingly, everyone closed their eyes and spent some moments thinking about their week and thinking about the time of rest to come. Everyone then had the chance to introduce themselves and share a word or two about what Shabbat means to them. We heard a range of interesting answers, from "holiness" to "community" to "family" to "unplugged."

I conducted the Shabbat table rituals (Shalom Aleichem, Kiddush, Netilat Yadaim (handwashing), and Hamotzi) by offering explanations and introductions, and also encouraging questions. People asked both technical and philosophical questions, and everyone seemed incredibly open to the rituals, even if it was all brand new.

During dinner, people had the chance to share a bit about their Jewish journeys. Hungarians were eager to hear a bit about the American Jewish denominations and the many different backgrounds and attitudes of the American group. I think for the Americans, it was a great and rare chance to self-reflect about our identity in a honest way that we could articulate and present to others. My Jewish "style" of observant egalitarian Judaism shines in some of the communities that I have been lucky to affiliate in the US, but is actually a rather small group in the landscape even of American Jewry. In Hungary, that type of Jewish identity really just doesn't exist, and that's ok. But to be able to share what it means for me to be an observant Jew with progressive attitudes and openness and excitement about all sorts of Jewish identities was really a special opportunity for me, and some people shared with me that they didn't know such a Jewish perspective existed but that they found it really exciting. I was in no way trying to persuade/recruit on behalf of any Jewish lifestyle or mindset, but just the opportunity to broaden perspectives felt important. The Americans were eager to hear about the Jewish stories of the Hungarians, which included stories such as growing up in a Marxist household, a Catholic household, and a Hungarian-Israeli household. Judaism mattered to everyone at the table, but it meant very different things to different people. People so clearly relished the opportunity to learn how Judaism can have such profound and variant meanings for different people.

(Note: In case the dinner sounded exclusively deep and formal, believe me that we had amazing conversations and jokes, and it was just a lovely meal in every way. Also, it was vegetarian AND delicious!)

After dinner, people took turns teaching songs to the group. We learned Ozi V'zimrat Yah (and even harmonized after a run-throughs), Od Yavo Shalom, a Joey Weisenberg niggun (yes, I taught this one), and Kol Ha'olam Kulo in Hebrew, Hungarian, and English! The singing was incredible, and people who knew no Hebrew and none of the melodies were maybe the most eager to keep singing.

Our Shabbat dinner left me truly energized and enriched in so many ways. I shared with the group that I have always found Shabbat to be a compelling and beautiful idea and experience, but I understand that those feelings had to be nurtured, and also that Shabbat means very different things to different people. Our Shabbat experience succeeded in that it allowed every participant to be open to the ideas and backgrounds of the others, while at the same time being incredibly focused and introspective. I hope to have more opportunities this year and for many years to come to celebrate Shabbat in a way that allows me to share my love for Shabbat that has grown throughout my life with others, and to be open to all that I can learn from sharing Shabbat with all sorts of people from various backgrounds and beliefs.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Benjy with a J?

12/1

This is my language post.

I began this post during my second week here, and then decided against posting it. I realized that I was utterly fascinated by the power for language to connect and (in the case of my early days in a new country) divide people. Yet my thoughts were still too raw, and I needed to experience and reflect a little more on the subject.

To explain the title of the post, from what I understand, "Y" isn't really its own letter in Hungarian, but is just used in conjunction with other letters to modify their sounds. But the "Y" sound we know in English comes from the letter "J" here. So the nuance of my blog title gets sort of lost in translation, which is perhaps the perfect introduction to my encounter with language so far.

When I started this post back in September, I was tempted to give the basic living abroad synopsis of language hurdles, and teach you the few Hungarian words I have picked up (unfortunately, my December level of Hungarian is not so much stronger than my September level... I still haven't officially started language lessons, but hopefully I will start soon). I was going to tell you what it feels like to be a native English speaker, and what it feels like to have this selfish feeling inside me that everyone else really ought to speak English. As it turns out, my Hungarian counterparts frequently have far better familiarity with foreign languages. Many study and travel abroad, and teenage students actually devote a year of school to picking up foreign language/s. As Europe has tried to come together in many ways over the last few decades, language remains a basic barrier. Some have even suggested the creation of a "Euro" for language. Oftentimes English seems to be the default common denominator. It doesn't seem uncommon to have a European couple from different countries who communicate in English, even though it is neither of their mother tongue.

In terms of my comfort with being in a country where Hungarian, a language notorious for its complexity and linguistic anomalousness, is the official language, it has definitely been a story with many chapters. I was at first entirely freaked out by the language barrier, but I now understand that it is ok for communication to have hurdles, and to rely extra heavily on non-verbal communication. I actually bought a new bed the other day using gestures and a translation iPhone app (not the first transaction to happen that way), and I often follow along in conversations that sound like total gibberish to me by offering what seems to be appropriate feedback (chuckles, facial expressions). What's funny is that my feedback does not feel fabricated or insincere; rather, it is simply the most I can offer given the information I understand (essentially a purely non-verbal interaction).

When I was first going to write this post, I crafted the following paragraph:
"With the high holidays around the corner (#TBT, am I right??), I am reminded of one of our family's favorite stories, The Hardest Word. The book tells the story of the Ziz, a massive bird who means well, and is tasked by God to find the hardest word. The Ziz comes up with all sorts of crazy words (I think 'spaghetti' is the only one I can think of off the top of my head) and ultimately realizes that the hardest word is in fact (SPOILER ALERT) "Sorry." I think the message is strong, however, I would encourage the Ziz to visit Hungary, and find that in fact, 'Viszontlátásra' (a more formal way of simply saying 'goodbye') is much harder than 'sorry.'"


Now, I am picking up my thinking about language once more, because it is 1:00 AM as I type and I just came home from seeing the movie The Arrival. I won't spoil the movie, but the language thing is HUGE. A funny anecdote, however, is that during a crucial moment of foreign communication, the regular English subtitles were ONLY offered in Hungarian!! Sam (my roommate) and I exchanged an "oh no" look, and I quickly pulled out my translate app. I managed to only translate a few words, and immediately called my dad after the movie to ask what the communication meant. For those of you who have seen the movie, please feel free to follow up with me because I'd love to talk further about how cool that movie was.

To maintain my self-described tendency to extrapolate even more broadly, hopefully not to the point of pontification, I will mention that language has opened up the Tower of Babel can of worms for me. While well known, this Bible story hardly merits much attention at all in the text. It occupies a mere few sentences, and we learn of no individual protagonists or antagonists, probably because humans (literally) rose and fell in unison. That's the whole point, right? People all spoke the same language, and essentially grew pompous enough to believe that their grand unity could encroach upon the glory of God. Seemingly appropriately, God punishes them with a dispersion that confuses their tongues into the thousands of languages spoken around the world. The punishment seems to meet the crime, yet here I am in Hungary suffering for the sins of those anonymous masses, written just a few columns into the book of Genesis (meaning the story of the world has hardly just started, and they've already complicated my year abroad)!?? Not only that, but I'm led to believe that if my life were to become much easier and language barriers could magically disappear overnight (and the climactic scene of The Arrival would have never been ruined for me), collective humanity would risk the threat of mass unified pompousness and sin! Oy vey.

I need to wrap my head around these thoughts a little more, but I will say that perhaps the lesson gleaned here is that while we still may, and perhaps even should, seek to bridge the gaps between the different peoples of the world, the language barriers keep us humble during those attempts. We never risk feeling as high and mighty as God, because nothing feels more human than drawing upon all of our resources (body language, gestures, facial expression, tone, posture, etc) to desperately bridge a gap to connect with another human being. The feeling forces us to feel our limits as people, and to really grasp the importance of our unique background and story, as well as that of our counterpart.

My Facebook cover photo defines a made up word called Sonder, which describes the realization that every other person on Earth, those people who seem like nameless and faceless extras in the grand drama of our lives, actually have as infinitely complex lives as our own. When I hear someone speaking a foreign language, I understand that this person's history, lineage, and upbringing took place under entirely different circumstances than my own, and our parallel universe have someone touched. Language does not entirely bridge that gap, but it illuminates the uniqueness of each person and demarcates the opportunities and limitations of interpersonal relationships.

Networking

12/1

I try and periodically give an update about the status of my professional life here, so here it goes.

In some of my past posts, I was pretty optimistic about being able to fill my schedule with new engagements and commitments in the coming weeks and months. As it turns out, it's not so easy. Being the first fellow here, and being in a large community with many different organizations, I have relied on good old professional networking to try and create more structure for my position. Through contacts I have met on my own or have been introduced to, I have reached out to all sorts of professionals in the Jewish community to pitch a partnership. In a meeting I had yesterday, I was told that working with an American Fellow may sound enticing, but the Hungarian community is actually kind of hard to break into. The Hungarian Jewish community is pretty homogenous, because there has not been a major influx of a Jewish migrants in perhaps hundreds of years, and the community here has roots that often date back many generations. Therefore, the common tongue and common history unites them in a way that makes it a little less exciting to have an American Fellow.

In any case, I think that it's safe to anticipate that future fellows will take my place in the Hungary placement, and the more the community understands that they can expect to have a Fellow around whom they are free to utilize for all sorts of community programs, the better off the longevity of this placement will be. Of course, I also want to have the chance to get busy, so I'm doing my best. I have some potential to join various community programs, from after school childcare to a Jewish elderly English club, as well as a special needs group that meets for art and dance. Essentially all community programming is run in Hungarian, but I will try and carve out a space for myself to succeed as a participant/volunteer. I am in contact with the large Jewish school, the Szarvas summer camp, and the Jewish Museum about other potential involvement.

My BBYO work remains strong, and we're getting ready to close up our first semester of programming on a high note. Since our camp, the tone of the group has shifted in a very positive way, with the group feeling more united, and with the teens having a new openness to the programming that we offer. We began an ongoing heritage project to encourage reflection on the teens' family histories, which will hopefully result in a reflective community visual art presentation to be submitted to a heritage project run out of Beit Hatfutsot in Israel. This Shabbat, we will join BBYO chapters around the globe in celebrating Global Shabbat, which for us will include prayers at the synagogue, a potluck Shabbat dinner, activities and games, and a sleepover together at the synagogue.
Here are some teens showing off their family heirlooms to the group. Both of these boys brought in tallitot.

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Some other exciting news, our Mannequin Challenge was featured on a Hungarian website! http://www.szeretlekmagyarorszag.hu/az-51-legjobb-magyar-mannequin-challenge/

So while I remain optimistic that my life will become busier in the next few weeks, I remain patient for now. At least BBYO is in good shape, and we're already looking forward to our trip to Dallas for International Convention in February!

Final update: For those of you keeping track at home, I still have taken exactly 1 proper standing shower with a shower curtain during my nearly 3 months here. When I moved in, there wasn't a curtain, and I need an extra long bar to be able to hold one up. I acquired one and had it for exactly one shower before it broke. The apartment owner is installing a new and improved one next week, so a new era will begin soon! No more sitting in the bathtub and cleansing myself like a baby!
Enjoy this picture of Parliament under the Margaret Bridge, take from the vantage point of Margaret Island. I went on an evening run and couldn't resist taking and posting this picture.

Monday, November 21, 2016

Rain in Berlin

11/21

"Autumn in New England" (most recent blog post title) intentionally connotes the seasonal tranquility that buries the region with a flush of colors that seem at once bright and dark. The beauty of New England in early November definitely highlighted my visit and gave a very nice backdrop to my visit. However, by the time I was walking with my friend through the streets on the day after the election, the blissful aura became somewhat confused and almost contradictory.

I acknowledge the above feelings as a preface to my trip to Berlin the following week (also known as this past week), because as the title of this post suggests, darkness and rain enveloped the city throughout my visit. Given my first associations with Germany (yes, I am alluding to it's 20th Century legacy of evil), rain seemed initially appropriate for my visit. However, my Berlin visit was tremendously enjoyable and meaningful, greatly diminishing the effects of the murky setting.

In Berlin, I stayed with Samantha, another JDC Fellow, at her super cool apartment. Her apartment has been handed down between JDC Fellows for years, so it has incredible personality in its layout and decorations. My first day there, I signed up for a 3 hour walking tour, because I figured it was my best way to hit the most major sites. By the time I arrived at the meeting point, my shoes and socks were basically soaked through, and I would practice blood circulation exercises like jumping and stretching to try and fight the numbness of my toes. Despite the cold, I really enjoyed the walk through the East Berlin sites, including Checkpoint Charlie (former East/West Berlin checkpoint), remains of the Berlin Wall, the memorial to Germany's Jewish Holocaust victims, Brandenburg Gate, various Nazi sites, and more. My first impression of the city is its tremendous beauty. Really, it's a pretty incredible place with feelings of both old and new, and a really intentional and artistic embodiment of tragedy and rebuilding. The city accepts and reflects upon its dark past with regret and honesty, which is an entirely different tone than in Hungary, where the government continues to hold their moral innocence against the ugly German invasion (that didn't come until 1944). I tried keeping an open mind in Berlin about the city's full history and contemporary identity, and feel that I did so well. A few moments on the tour really hit me hard. First, our guide identified an open plot of land as the former site of the SS and Gestapo headquarters (pictured below). I felt like I was staring at a portal to the epicenter of Hell, a site where people sat down and devised the destruction of my people, and countless others. I felt both nauseous and frozen, unable to craft a facial expression, let alone words to capture my feelings. We continued up a couple blocks, and approached a street where Hitler's Chancellory stood. Imagining Hitler (the Hitler!) pulling up in his car on the street beside me and walking across where I stood to enter his residence provoked another dose of my visceral confusion. After the tour concluded, I returned to those sites to try and let the feelings linger so that I could process them, but I really could only handle a brief revisit.
Empty plot of land where the Gestapo and SS HQ once stood. It looks like the rain put out the flames of hell, leaving the ground forever charred.

That night, my friend Aryeh arrived from his JDC placement in Latvia, and he joined Samantha and me at Samantha's apartment. Ramah friends Sarah and Louise (who "commuted" to Ramah Wisconsin from Berlin each summer) joined us there, and it was a lovely night with tremendous company.


The next day, Aryeh and I spent a few hours at the Jewish Museum. The highlight for me was an exhibit of artwork by an artist named Eran Shakine (click to see), of a series of portraits (all black charcoal on white canvas) called "A Muslim, A Christian, and A Jew." The pictures all portrayed three men who looked essentially the same going on all sorts of adventures together, from playing music to trying to find God. The collapsing of the identities showed that we are all playing this game called Life together. I sort of wished there were a fourth character so that it could parallel the Passover Seder's Four Sons, but I still loved the exhibit. My least enjoyable part of the museum was this towering room/corridor with literally thousands of metal faces on the ground that are crafted to look like they are are screaming. You can walk across the sea of tortured faces, and that causes them to clink against each other and let out piercing metal screams. I thought that I had to walk across, and I held my ears and tried to tip toe through, only to find that the door at the end was not an exit, and I had to retrace my steps again. I'm sure the artist fully intended for that uncomfortable experience and its symbolism, and it surely worked. The rest of the museum was a fascinating exploration of Germany's historic Jewish roots.
After our trip to the museum, we met up with Samantha and her friend for delicious falafel, and then we visited the East Side Gallery, where artists have decorated a remain of the Berlin Wall. Below is my classic "I visited" picture.

That night, we headed to the Chance the Rapper concert, which was just an incredible show. I loved seeing his Chicago backdrops and having a carefree night of jumping, singing, and dancing.


Finally, the next day I headed to Charlottenburg Palace, before going to the airport. Built originally in the early 18th Century, the Palace housed numerous generations of Prussian royalty, and even quartered Napoleon the Great during his visit. An audio guide took me through the ornate rooms filled with impressive furniture and artwork.

I returned from Germany feeling very refreshed, having had both tremendous social experiences and a lot of individual time to explore and reflect. I am now transitioning into the next phase of my time in Budapest, during which I will help with some new BBYO projects (I led my first weekly Hadracha ["leadership seminar"] this past Sunday), and am looking into finding more supplementary work/projects in the Jewish community. My parents and Shira arrive on Xmas day, so until then I will be hopefully getting into more of a groove with work, hopefully entertaining a few guests, and we shall see what else! I will likely blog again before then with more to report from Budapest, but I hope you enjoyed this update on my last couple weeks "on the road."

Autumn in New England

11/21

I haven't blogged since my post-BBYO Camp entry, because I've been around the world, and that same "world" seems to have changed in many ways. Again, because of the apolitical nature of my position, I can't comment on the last couple weeks in the form of political opinions, but I will say that the election has obviously tremendously affected me, and witnessing my country from afar has been both fascinating and incredibly disillusioning. First, let's rewind...

After the camp ended, I spent a day relaxing. I bought a winter coat (I didn't pack one to save space, and I have delayed buying one as long as possible), treated myself to a delicious vegan meal, and explored the Hungarian National Museum.

I prepared for my trip to the States, which would begin with my 3:30 AM shuttle to the airport for my 6:30 AM flight. At 1:00 AM of that same night/morning (they truly blurred together), the Cubs marched onto the field for Game 7. I obviously stayed up watching the game, and when my shuttle came in about the 7th inning, I expended all of my phone data as my dad FaceTimed me the game from an iPad carefully placed on our living room couch. Against protocol, I brought the Cubs through checkin and security, and watched them end 108 years of futility from the food court, about 10 minutes before my boarding time. I am a White Sox fan, but thinking of the euphoria my city and so many of my friends must have felt at that moment nearly brought me to tears. Mostly, the shock of the moment overcame me, and I couldn't believe the whole Hungarian airport wasn't going wild. Did they not realize what just happened?? Luckily, the 5 million person parade validated my impression of the magnitude of the event. I spent the next 10+ hours offline on my flight to Boston, where I spent the weekend with my Nachshon Project family. It was great seeing some of my mentors and many great friends. The program encourages its participants to pursue Jewish professional graduate programs and professions, and it was nice being with my peers to share our first few months in the "real world," and continue to imagine our next steps together. We all agreed that the weekend was "just what we needed." My favorite speaker from the weekend was Harvard Hillel's Orthodox Rabbi, who seems like an incredibly dynamic and exciting educator and leader. He is a YCT alum, comes from a family of rabbis and educators, and shared how he works to build rich spaces for Jewish exploration and discussion through Hillel's pluralistic model of engagement.

Following the seminar, I headed on a Greyhound bus for NYC. Chicago felt close, but not close enough, and I decided that a much easier trip to New York to try and see as many of my friends there as possible in less than 48 hours would be the better option. I masterfully crafted a day of meet ups and visits, managing to see a handful of WashU friends, camp friends, and others too. I still can't believe how many people I was able to see in basically one full day in New York. It felt very grounding to see so many people whom I love and whom I consider major parts of my life and support system. At the same time, NYC does not feel quite like home, and sleeping in 5 beds in under 2 weeks made me feel slightly rootless. Ultimately, the visit was really incredible and I'm very grateful for all the people I saw.

I promptly headed back to Boston on the morning of Election Day, very eager for the meshugas of the election season to conclude (remember when that kind of thinking was a thing?). Anyway, I arrived and headed to meet my WashU friend Emily at her office, and she showed me around and introduced me to her coworkers. It was a really nice time, and I then headed out to the Target across the street. I wanted to buy 3 of everything, but I settled on 2 tubes of toothpaste, a pack of 12 Clif bars, and a sweater. I then felt compelled to eat at Chipotle, which I honestly eat maybe 2x a year at home, but it seemed like a quintessential "American" (quotations to connote some sort of irony) meal. Our evening plans consisted of dinner and watching the election. Let's just say Target might have been my  final moment of momentum and American enchantment of my visit.

The next day, my flight was not until the evening, and I planned on doing some more low-key Boston touring. Instead, I opted for a quieter day, hanging out in Brookline at a bookstore and meeting my high school friend Noah for a reflective walk and catchup.

I'll conclude this post by acknowledging the strange reverse culture shock I felt being in the US. In Hungary, I acknowledge that I have a habit of eavesdropping on conversations to listen for the occasional (North American) English or Hebrew. In America, I instinctively did the same, only to remember that the same weird tingle of connection I feel when I hear English  does not quite exist in America. Also, unlike my sister who lives in Vietnam and tells me that she feels like an ethnic outsider there, my community in America comes from the same region of the world where I currently reside. And even though Budapest very much carries the ambiance of a traditional European city, it is not worlds away from Boston's more vintage (RE: European) ambiance. This hit me as I watched the old fashioned Boston tram pull up to its station with the backdrop of autumn leaves and quaint buildings. I had a strange moment realizing that I just as easily could have been back in Europe at that moment, and how my experience that feels so distant (and is geographically quite distant) sometimes feels strangely close as well.

I headed back to Budapest for Shabbat and Sunday BBYO (it was a quiet weekend of jet lagged reading and sleeping), and then was off to Berlin (see next post!).

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Exhale pt. 3 PICS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN


11/1

First, here is a Reshet Ramah (Ramah alumni network) feature on my experiences in Budapest:
http://reshetramah.org/blog/benjy-forester/

Next, here are pictures and videos that tell the story of my last few weeks here:






Standing outside the Sukkah that was built in the courtyard in front of the Frankel Syngagogue

Teaching the BBYOers about Lulav and Etrog

At a langos stand in Szentendre. Langos is a traditional Hungarian food, and it is fried dough covered with garlic, sour cream, and cheese

In the synagogue in Szentendre. They claim it is (one of) the smallest synagogue(s) in the world. It is a hole in the wall room with 8 seats total.

Walking around in Szentendre

Sonja (Tomi and Linda's daughter) and I enjoying our langos

Selfie with our BBYO group in Szentendre, waiting for the Israelis to join

BBYO Hungary proudly posing in the final moments of our camp. I'm in the front row between the two flags.




Singing Hinei Mah Tov with the Israeli group




Hear I am leading our new favorite cheer for the whole group of Hungarians and Israelis. Much thanks to the Mishlachat at Ramah this summer for teaching me this song!



Exhale pt. 2 BBYO CAMP

11/1

Since arriving, my work schedule has been somewhat loose. Since I'm the first fellow here, there isn't any precedent for the exact requirements and responsibilities of my position. Most placements also have extra added infrastructure to help ground the schedule of the fellow, including established connections with schools, clubs, and program in the Jewish community that the fellow joins and helps run. I have been networking in the Jewish community to hopefully open up opportunities for involvement, but that process obviously takes time and patience. In the meantime, I basically spent my first 2-3 weeks focus on acclimating to the BBYO leadership team and understanding our BBYO chapter, and helping as much as I could to create and run our weekly programs.

Once the chagim started, my focus shifted to creating the first ever BBYO Hungary camp. The other youth groups here do camps, and it's a great way to build our brand and unite our group. Linda (my supervisor) basically told me it's mine to plan, because they want fresh ideas. Although I gave myself about a month to plan the camp, the chagim disrupted any attempts at rhythm or routine in the process. It was also hard to keep the BBYO leadership team in the loop, which worried me because the programs will all fail if they do not know how to run them.

We chose the theme of Storytelling for the camp, and I created a schedule that tried to offer diverse and engaging programming. The camp started Friday afternoon and ended Monday afternoon, so there was lots of time to fill. I created discussions, alternative tefillah experiences, creative sports games, silly programs, and more. Our leadership team did a great job of making any adjustments that would help make things run more smoothly, and then running the programs incredibly well. I ran nightly meetings during which we evaluated the past day and reviewed the following day, and we worked to make necessary adjustments that could make those little improvements that turn good programs into (hopefully) great ones. Watching my ideas come to life in a collaborative and successful fashion was incredibly gratifying.

We had struggled to successfully run a discussion/content-heavy program during our Sunday meetings, yet we ran a few of those types of programs very successfully this weekend. The highlight for me was our Breishit debate. Since it was Shabbat Breishit, which fits in very nicely to our theme of storytelling, I created a program (with some advice from my mom.. Thanks, Mom!) in which the teens were split into three groups, and each given a different Creation narrative. The first group had Breishit 1 (6 days of creation), the second group had Breishit 2 (Garden of Eden), and the third group had Science (Big Bang/Evolution). Each group had to learn the points of their theory, and be able to argue why they believe it is the most compelling story of Creation. I challenged each group with a question that they had to answer on the spot. The conversation ended up getting so exciting that everyone was raising their hands, itching to contribute, and the teens offered thoughtful, articulate, and passionate beliefs and ideas. I had to end the conversation so that we could make it to lunch relatively on time, but I was so thrilled and amazed with the whole program. People filed into lunch still discussing their thoughts on the topic of creation.

On Sunday, we visited Szentendre, which is a cute, old-fashioned town outside of the city. A group of Israeli teenagers on a young diplomats program joined us for the day. The logistics of the day (from transportation to Szentendre--we put our whole group onto a public bus, to the Israeli visitors, to ordering pizzas for our group of 90+) drove Linda crazy (she handled it all amazingly!), but watching our group and the Israeli group have such a great day together was quite special. I also led our new favorite cheer (that I borrowed from the Mishlachat at Ramah this summer) for the whole group, which was so fun.

I could list many more highlights, but overall, the camp was an incredible success. Personally, I feel so proud and relieved. This camp was the most measurable task I have had since my arrival, and I feel truly accomplished to know how well it went. I also finally had the chance to be goofy and fun with the kids, the confidence to address the group (and know that my on-the-spot translators had my back), and to connect with the kids not only through language but through sports, song, and dance. Our Sunday night costume party turned into a big dance/karaoke party with projected YouTube videos, and I never expected I would be so grateful to know Justin Bieber songs.

With the camp behind me, I am now taking a couple days to relax and catch up on a few things I have let slip for a few weeks (like blogging!). Early Thursday morning, I fly to Boston for a Nachshon Project** seminar. Our ongoing participation in the Project includes various opportunities, including yearly seminars. I am super excited to see so many good friends and to be back in the States for a bit! I'll spend two nights after the seminar in New York to see friends, and then I return to Boston on Election Day!
**Nachshon Project is the program I participated in while abroad in Jerusalem in 2015. It is a Jewish leadership and pre-professional program that aims to educate and empower future Jewish leaders and professionals. 

The week after that, I head to Berlin for 3 nights for some touring and for a Chance the Rapper concert. So I'll be in and out of Budapest for the next couple weeks, and then will really work to settle into my routine and projects for the rest of the year.

For now, I'm enjoying the time to EXHALE (today is actually a national holiday here, so the whole country exhales with me), and look forward to carrying this high from the camp with me for a long time.

Exhale pt 1. TGI-Cheshvan

11/1

My most recent check in came right after Yom Kippur. Many more days of Yom Tov later, that post is a distant memory, already stored in the now somewhat populated archives of my time in Budapest. Here are some updates about what I've been up to since then...


Jewish holidays (Holidaze continued):
I came to Budapest a few weeks before the chagim so that I could have time to acclimate and make connections before jumping in to the unforgiving and fast holiday schedule. I felt blessed to make it through Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur with positive religious, social, and personal experiences. The looming marathon of Sukkot-Shemini Atzeret-Simchat Torah seemed so daunting that I almost didn't want to think about it. However, I was once again very lucky with how my holiday season closed up. I went to the Frankel Synagogue for all davening, and finally felt like people knew to expect me, greet me, and check on me. As I wandered to my seat and tried finding the right siddur for Sukkot, someone came over and handed me an English-Hebrew siddur published through the Conservative Movement in the 1940s. I really appreciated the gesture. Synagogues build communal sukkot on their property, but people do not privately build them. After all services, I joined the community for Kiddush and Hamotzi in the Sukkah built in the courtyard around the Frankel Synagogue. I do not take at all for granted that I could fulfill the mitzvah of sitting in a Sukkah, because I thought it would be entirely possible that I would go through Sukkot without having the opportunity. Sukkot's emphasis on the transitory nature of the Jewish experience (captured by the Sukkah which is an impermanent residence that reflects our journey in the desert) once more challenged me to think about the themes of movement, travel, adventure, and home. I'll spare you another "sermon" here, but I'm glad that this theme continues to challenge and excite me. I also was invited to read Haftarah literally on the spot, which I was incredibly reluctant to accept, but people were very impressed that I could read the words fluently and that I knew the trope (even though I clearly improvised on the "hard" ones).

On the second night of Sukkot, a friend I made at synagogue named Ádám invited me to his apartment for dinner. He described his apartment as an unofficial Moishe House. He lives with really nice Jewish people who are all very involved in the community. They even built a little sukkah on their balcony, and the meal began with all guests hanging fruits from the sukkah. It was so great so celebrate the holiday in such a unique, meaningful, and fun fashion that night.

For Simchat Torah, I sort of expected the usual crowd (~25 people) to show up, and for us to walk around with the Torahs while singing. I walked in to shul 10 minutes after the official start time, and the sanctuary was literally overflowing. Young children walked in a huge procession around the perimeter of the sanctuary, as their parents and other community members gathered in the pews and placed candy into the kids' bags as they paraded round and round. It was adorable. I had no idea that there were so many little kids and young families involved in the community, and this celebration was very different from what I am used to. I also know that my earliest positive memories of synagogue were of getting candy from an auf ruf or from the candyman. Even though the 15 (!) Torahs in the procession were peripheral to the candy craze, there is something to be said for probably 100 kids wearing nice clothes and kippot coming to synagogue to walk in a parade with Torahs and have a happy time.

The next day, I arrived to synagogue 25 minutes late, and there still wasn't a minyan. As a little more time went on, people started coming with their children (which meant candy parade round 2 was imminent), but the accompanying parents incidentally helped make our minyan. The Torah parade and trick-or-treating ensued as expected. Most families left after that, although a good amount stayed. The Torah service was very nice, and I again felt grateful to participate in this celebration of faith and community.

It is now Cheshvan, and we are in the clear until Chanukah, and in the clear from Yom Tov until Passover. I am grateful that I did not have to miss school or work to accommodate my religious needs, and I am blessed that my new community welcomed me into their celebration and prayer. Although the chagim disrupted my attempts to get into a routine in my new city and have a sense of structure in my personal and professional life, the chance to organically network with the Jewish community through prayer, meals, and celebration was a special privilege.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Holidaze

10/13

Today is the day after Yom Kippur, so I have some time to sit down and reflect on my holiday experience thus far. I came to Hungary a few weeks before the chagim on purpose, with the hopes of settling in a bit before jumping into the craziness of the holidays. The good news: the plan worked. The bad news: the chagim continue to destabilize any sense of routine/structure in my personal and professional life here, but I guess that's true wherever you are.

Before Rosh Hashanah, I had already spent a few Shabbatot in Hungary, and had made some contacts in the Jewish community. For the first night, I asked Zsofí, a good friend from the BBYO team, her plans, and she told me I was welcome to join her and a few friends at a Canadian woman's home. Before dinner, we went to a different Neolog shul across town. It was a really nice sanctuary with a Chabad hazzan. This sanctuary had a mechitzah (unlike most Neolog setups that simply have separate seating with no separation). The whole experience felt very reminiscent of an American Modern Orthodox shul. I think the difference is that this crowd is presumably not at all observant in their private lives.
 Zsofí is a part of a Hungarian cohort of a pan-European Jewish leadership and professional development program called MiNYanim. MiNYanim hopes to create inspired leadership teams in various European countries who can help mobilize the millennial crowds into finding different types of engagement within their local Jewish communities. Her group, along with its leader, Tomi Buchler, were invited to dinner by a Jewish Canadian woman named Janet who enjoys being active in the local Jewish community. Janet's husband is Hungarian, and she spent a number of years going back and forth between Toronto and Budapest, but is now officially a resident here. I was incredibly grateful to have an invite to this dinner, because it included interesting young Jews, as well as some of Janet's expat friends. The dinner conversations were carried out in English, and I absolutely loved getting to know such an interesting crowd while sitting down for a traditional Rosh Hashanah seudah (dinner). Zsofí told Janet that I keep kosher (again, besides the Orthodox/Chabad community, it is very very rare for Jews to buy kosher meat), and Janet prepared kosher soup and chicken in separate, strictly kosher dishes. I couldn't believe she made such an accommodation for me, and I told her how grateful I was.
Tomi (the MiNYanim organizer/leader) and I discussed the Jewish scene here. He said he thinks that there really is space for serious progressive Judaism here (similar to Conservative in America), but the reason Neolog remains the predominant stream of Judaism is because the older generations, who of course merit respect and reverence in the community, don't want to see an evolution of Judaism. People may choose to practice or not practice, but they don't want to see what they see as the essence of Judaism change. To Tomi and me, that actually makes a ton of sense. Perhaps it means that a future emergence of progressive Judaism may come. If a knowledgeable and visionary progressive leader comes to the community, I'm sure it can happen. I should add that Rabbi Tomi's neolog shul (the one where I am based out of for BBYO and most frequently attend) does an incredible job of welcoming the older and younger generations, and doing his best to walk the lines of how to keep Judaism relevant in his shul while remaining true to tradition. The results of that project manifest differently here than in the US because the Neolog and Conservative paradigms are different, but they emerge from a similar struggle taking place in different circumstances.

My second night dinner was with Gabor Balasz, who hosted me for my first Shabbat dinner in Budapest and is my contact at the Lauder school where I may begin working in some capacity soon. The other guests were all lovely and interesting people, included a former student of Gabor's who is training to compete on Hungary's Olympic karate team, a British man who (among other things) works with celebrities to brand personal alcoholic beverage products, an anthropology professor who was born in Romania and came to Hungary originally for her PhD, and a Hungarian woman who works in architecture and went to Illinois on a scholarship and helped design new Yankee Stadium during her prolonged stay in the US. The conversation revolved around exploring our many different personal stories, and eventually led into the Romanian/Hungarian contingent sharing stories about growing up during Communism. For the Hungarians, the country had become much more open by the time they were growing up, but the Romanian woman explained the strict and stringent image of Communism that we hear about continued until the fall of the USSR. Her childhood had many of the staples of the oppressive Communist experience. She says she still buys many bottles of shampoo at a time, because there were really no cosmetic or hygiene products available during her youth. She said many people who grew up with strict Communism have that same tendency to buy products en masse. Dairy products were also forbidden, but a shepherd would descend from the mountains once a week to illegally sell her family milk.

The day before Kol Nidre, my roommate Sam arrived!!! Sam went to IU and knew many of my friends there, and is also a JDC Fellow here working with JDC's Junction program, which is pan-European young Jewish engagement program. It's so nice having her here and knowing that no days will pass without having someone to talk to. When you live in a new country, you don't take that for granted. We made dinner together before the fast, consisting of Kosher chicken and roasted veggies, all covered in paprika (my first time cooking with this staple of Hungarian cuisine).

Kol Nidre and First night Rosh Hashanah are THE big nights. We arrived at synagogue 15 minutes past the advertised start time, and the building was literally overflowing. We found seats in the balcony (where I had never sat prior), and we didn't have machzors. Many of the attendants were enjoying the social scene, but I did my best to try and focus and appreciate being in such a unique service.
On Yom Kippur morning, I arrived at shul at 8:30 and stayed until the fast ended minutes before 7:00. They did not have a break. They prolonged the service by having many more prayers read aloud than I'm used to, as well as honoring each of the shul's many donors with an aliyah to the Torah. It was easily the longest Torah service of my life, with what must have been 20-30 aliyot (and mi sheberach after each one).
The crowd started off quite small, but then the room was magically full for most of the Torah service and for Yizkor, and then emptied out immediately after. A decent crowd returned for the last hour of the fast. The shofar blow at the end was sounded by 5 different people, which gave it a powerful and melodic ring that I had never heard before. I mumbled to myself, "L'shana Ha-ba'ah B'Yerushalayim," which I once more have the privilege of knowing, God willing, to be true.

Where I Cast My Sins

10/4 (post-Yom Tov) (I started working on this right after RH, but have taken some time to let the thoughts sit)

When services finally ended around 3:30 (we also did Mincha) on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, I joined a group of ten others to do Tashlich, the ritual, symbolic casting away of our sins into running waters. We played real life Frogger, crossing main roads and train tracks through holes in fences before reaching the Danube River. The Danube threads the border of Buda and Pest, and is probably the most elegant and iconic natural feature of Budapest. Parliament, The Castle, churches, and other remarkable buildings line the shores of the river. Our roundabout path to the waters was a fun little adventure, and performing Tashlich at such a grand location stands in stark contrast to the 20+ times I attended Tashlich at the little stream running through the neighborhood in Deerfield.

The Danube carries with it various historical legacies. One striking one was its complacent role during the Holocaust, accepting human sacrifices into its depths. In the bitter winter of 1944-1945, Jews of Budapest were brought to the Danube and told to march up and down its banks. In horrific fashion, Jews were shot into the river, the running waters turned red like the first plague. The tragic events of that winter have been memorialized with shoes crafted permanently along the river, marking where their owners last planted their feet below their breathing bodies on this earth. Here is an article about the events and the memorial:
 http://www.yadvashem.org/yv/en/education/newsletter/31/shoes.asp#!prettyPhoto

While that particular legacy of the Danube had never actively occurred to me yet during my time here--and I cross the river, or at least see it, nearly every day--something struck me about symbolically casting my sins into it. Here is a poem I wrote that seeks to capture my feelings of the experience.

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Where I Cast My Sins



מי אל כמוך-Who is a God like You?
Here I humbly stand.
Pockets heavy with the remnants of transgressions.

לא החזיק לעד אפו-He does not maintain His wrath forever
I am human. I believe in a merciful God.

מן המצר קראתי יה-From a place of distress I called to God
God was both my first call and my last.

ה׳ לי, מה אירא-God is with me, from what should I fear?
He joins me in my triumph; He joins me in my suffering.

מה יעשה לי אדם-What can humans do to me?
God is with me as humans drown us both.

ואני אראה בשונאי-And I will see [my enemies fall]
God and I will both have our dignity restored.

These waters forgive me. Or so they claim. 
They move onward. 
Not cyclically like the round challot we eat. 
These waters point to a different process. 
They move onward. Away. Towards the horizon. 
Never to be seen again. 
New water, fresh water
Takes their place.

The water as perpetrator:

You knew what you were capable of.

You feel yourself flowing and expanding.
You have swallowed before, never totally satiated.

The water as bystander:

But maybe you had no choice.

Or chose to stay your course.
Hoping that yesterday will be as tomorrow, life ultimately unchanged.

The water as victim:

They forced you and took advantage of you.

Offering you sacrifices you didn't ask for.
A strange fire consumes the holy altar.

The water as forgiver:

Years later, you swallow my sins.

Bread tastes better; a more welcome sacrifice.
You understand that everyone errs on the side of evil sometimes.

The water as forgiven:

You try and run away, but you are forever running in place.
But I understand you, and I urge you that it is ok.
Everyone errs on the side of evil sometimes.


לא ירעו ולא ישחיתו בכל הר קדשי כי מלאה הארץ דעה את ה׳ כמים לים מכסים
They shall do no evil and shall not destroy in all My holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of God, as the waters cover the sea.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Talking Tachlis

10/1

Ok. One more post today.

I should have known when I created a blog that I would ramble about Jewish identity far more than actually share the tachlis (practical) elements of my time here. I'm sure people are curious (or maybe not) about my life and work here. I'll give you a brief update.


  • I am here to work primarily with BBYO. I'm enjoying the kids (middle school aged) and the BBYO leadership team (Linda, Rabbi Tomi, and 4 madrichim). We meet every Sunday, so tomorrow will be my third meeting.
  • Soon (mid/post-chagim), I will teach a weekly leadership seminar for a group of teens who could be future leaders/madrichim. Since they are still a little young to handle some of the big picture/abstract elements of running a youth group, I'll work first on specific skills.
  • At the end of the month, we are having a BBYO-Hungary fall camp, which is our big convention for the semester. It will be Friday-Monday. I have been given most of the responsibility for the vision and planning, because the leadership here only knows the Szarvas model and wants some new ideas. I've put my Ramah/USY experience to work, and will pick up my planning next week.
  • I'm in touch with some other JDC-BBYO fellows about starting utilizing the BBYO-Europe network for some co-programming. Hopefully we can find some ways to work together and meet up.
  • I met with the Lauder Javne Community School here about helping out there. We thought of having me bring Jewish content to the advanced English students. 
  • My Visa is still not totally worked out, but I visited the authorities with a lawyer that JDC set me up with, and we're hopefully close to getting that worked out (shoutout to my dad for helping get my college diploma notarized, apostilled, and next day shipping it to Hungary last week!!!)
After the chagim, we will have the fall camp, and then I think I can hopefully settle into a schedule. For now, I'm enjoying having time to settle in and explore a little. 

My Father Was a Wandering Hungarian

10/1 (written post-Shabbat my time)

On more than one occasion in college, my professor handed back a paper and told me that it drifted from its intended purpose of being a research paper and had turned instead into a sermon. I find that divorcing information from broader tropes and moral imperatives falls short of utilizing the information we receive to its fullest extent. I preface this post with that short tidbit, because in case this post drifts close to unwarranted sermon territory, you'll at least know that you were warned.

In last weeks Torah portion (ugh, it's already in sermon territory), we read the text of "My father was a wandering Aramean..." which is a quotation that the Israelites are instructed to recite, and for future generations. The passage recalls their parents journey from slavery to freedom, and later rabbis borrow it in compiling the Passover haggadah. I always thought about this quote in a more big picture sense, thinking about what the arc of the story from servitude to prosperity tells about the Jewish story, why that generation may have been instructed to consider and identify with the ideas of those passages, or what it means for future generations to recite those same lines. Lately, however, I have focused much more narrowly on the notion of wandering.

[Some background: As a JDC employee this year, I am not allowed to take a political stance or even really engage with politics. The apolitical nature of JDC has allowed it to be so successful and cooperate with all sorts of regimes and administrations all over the world, in order to function and serve local Jewish communities. I want to address the topic of refugees and be very clear that I am officially not taking any stance on the topic, but I want to report to my friends and family abroad about my observations on this pertinent issue whose urgency and complexity is felt around the world.

Tomorrow, there will be vote in Hungary on the topic of migrants. I will only say that the vote is a topic of much controversy. The government has publicized throughout the entire city posters urging people to vote no, and a satirical political party has created its own campaign urging people to vote, but to mark both Yes and No, thereby submitting an invalid ballot.]

In less than three weeks here, I have tried to expose myself to as much of the Budapest Jewish world as possible. I have davened at the Frankel Synagogue (Linda and Rabbi Tomi's shul), which is neolog, and it is definitely my home base while I am here. It's very nice to have that community and slowly begin to start meeting people. I visited the Lauder Javne Jewish Community School. I have prayed at two stiebels, which are Orthodox shuls that are tucked into apartment spaces, with older and old-schooler feels to them. I joined Moishe House-Budapest for Kaballat Shabbat and dinner. And today I joined Marom's Dor Hadash Masorti kehillah for morning services and kiddush, where they were joined by friends from the Reform community here. I believe I met both Reform rabbis who reside in Budapest. So I've pretty much dipped my toes into the entire spectrum of Hungarian Jewry, and hope to build upon those experiences and settle into a routine that works for me.

At today's service, there was a major emphasis on the topic of migrants and movement. The rabbi invoked the "Wandering Aramean" text from last week, and a Hungarian Muslim man and an Eritrean immigrant both attended and had prepared words to share. The Muslim man spoke in Hungarian, but the Eritrean spoke in English, which he admitted he only began learning recently. His final message was, "Be angry with the people who forced us into these situations; do not be angry with us." The rabbi affirmed and praised the message, and declared that we are in fact all migrants.

The instruction to tell the story came at a point of great unity: at the culmination of a communal journey to freedom, during which every together witnessed Revelation and accepted the yoke of the commandments. The instruction also came at a point of great anxiety, as the nation neared its entry into the Land of Israel, and its dispersal throughout the land and divisions into the Tribes.

When we retell the story today, we often think about that first frame of unity, and how we can bring ourselves into a mindset that feels like we consider ourselves part of the larger Jewish people and its history. However, I am finding myself right now thinking about how the instruction has always been intended to be said during an era of Jewish dispersal. I feel the weight of Jewish community, tradition, and history as I explore my Jewish identity and Jewish community here in Budapest, because our people is a wandering people. I think that's why the JDC has adapted the notion that all of Israel is responsible for one another as one of its most central tenets. When the Jewish story is one of striving for unity in the wake of dispersion and separation, we must think of what unites us, and what common stories we tell. I am humbled that I have that opportunity this year, and my kavannah for Rosh Hashanah is that everyone takes the time to think about the message I heard today: that we are all migrants, both as people, and as Jews.

And as a final note, I'd look to put to rest the premise of a very very classic camp discussion group topic: Are we American-Jews or Jewish-Americans? You may feel or identify however strongly you want with either of those identities, but as I am learning here, my Jewishness is the essential part of my identity. I am still American here, but Americans aren't really meant to wander... The American in me wants to be home, where everything is familiar. When the time and place makes sense, I am an American. However, my Jewishness follows me and leads me wherever and whenever I go. It manifests in different ways, but the struggle to engage my Jewishness unfolds with similar intention and attention wherever I go. So, I am Jewish. And because I am Jewish, I wander. And I wonder too.

Is this a metaphor?

10/1

Walking around (mostly alone) with a good amount of time with my own thoughts, there is ample opportunity to observe and reflect. I mentioned to my dad that it felt like college ended, I went right to camp, and I didn't have time to process any of these major life changes. I now feel that I have a great deal of time to reflect and process. With this time and reflection, one more mundane thought that keeps occurring to me is considering whether many of the new and interesting things represent metaphors for my presence and experiences in Hungary. Most people reading this blog probably know that my older sister Rena is living in Hanoi, Vietnam, and she created a blog called "What's normal?" in which she lists the incredibly odd and humorous cultural differences and phenomena that she encounters. I want to riff off of that idea by creating a blog segment called, "Is this a metaphor?" The poet in me sort of wants to take all of these posts and extrapolate, but the friend in me doesn't want to put any of you through that jargon and creative stretches. So I'll leave you to interpret them however you want...

Is this a metaphor?

The clock at Teleki Ter Steible has Hebrew letters, but it goes backwards, and the hands tick counterclockwise. Can a clock be counterclockwise? Plato would have something to say about the essence of clocks, but I'll just wonder: Is this a metaphor? (I took this picture from the internet, but it looks like the one at Teleki. I think it reads 12:35)

The dogs here speak better Hungarian than I do. Is this a metaphor?



There is a big intersection about 15 minutes away from my apartment that features Subway, KFC, Mcdonald's, TGIFridays, Burger King, and Starbucks. They stand out to me as exceptions in the broader scenery, but they are still somewhat subtly incorporated into the consistent, elegant architecture of the city. Is this a metaphor?



I went to the Office of Immigration and Nationality and met the first Americans my age! They are both Mormon missionaries who have lived here for one year now. It made me realize that basically the only Americans who would come to Hungary right out of college for a more extended stay are religious missionaries (myself included?). This one might be too real to ask: Is this a metaphor?

That's all for now! If you thought the "Is this a metaphor?" game was a useless exercise, hopefully you at least gleaned a few bits of information about my time here!

Sunday, September 18, 2016

First week: Pictures

 My first stop from the airport was the Great Synagogue, the second largest synagogue in the world.

 This is Linda's mother's dog. He listens to directions really well. Basically, the dogs here understand Hungarian better than I ever will.
 On Friday, we visited a campsite where we will host our BBYO Fall Camp. To cross the Danube at this spot (away from the big bridges of Budapest), there is this boat that you drive your car onto, and it floats you across the river. I look touristy here, but the others with me were also taking lots of pictures and enjoying the ride.

 Here is the BBYO group doing a name game activity.
 First day of work!
Here is one of the BBYO JR. kids making a Pokemon Go! Rosh Hashanah card. 

First Impressions

9/18

Being in Budapest has been a fascinating experience on many levels, and also challenging in the ways I expected. The way the fellowship works, you sort of just get plopped down in a foreign land. Of course, Linda and Tomi have been incredible hosts, helping both personally and logistically as I settle in. However, at the end of the day, I am here without knowing the common tongue, without any of my close friends or family, and without a whole lot to do. Coming to Budapest as a tourist would be great, because I would go right to the most fun attractions, see the most beautiful sights, have fun, and be on my way. I do not feel like a tourist. Walking around, I think to myself about how foreign I feel in the place that I live. Of course, I still am taking in the beauty of the city and the culture. The city has a pretty consistent feel to it. The streets are lined with all sorts of shops and cafes, and above those are apartments. The whole city seems like a pretty even 5 stories in height, which I think is because buildings aren’t allowed (or weren’t allowed) to be taller than the main church here. Most of the buildings have the same late 19th/early 20th century look to them, which has a sort of elegant feel to it. Some of the architecture is truly extraordinary. The Parliament building, resting regally aside the Danube, is the most obvious piece of breathtaking architectural genius. 

My first few days were filled with some handling of logistics (RE: apartment), some aimless wandering, and some getting acclimated with the help of Linda, Rabbi Tomi, and their family. 

I would say my first exciting (and blog-worthy) happenings surrounded preparing for my first Shabbat. My Shabbat routine has usually been pretty consistent, and it occurred to me that I was pretty unprepared for what to do here. 

Before Shabbat, I had a few hours of free time. There is a Kosher market about 40 min away walking, and I decided to go for it. I haven’t tried public transportation on my own, being a suburban kid in a foreign country, but I will overcome that fear and hop on soon. The walk was nice and I arrived at a small market with mostly Israeli brands. I bought hummus and a pack of deli meat. At the checkout, I met an Israeli med student who said there are lots of Israeli students studying here, and he added me on Facebook. He was going to Chabad for his meal. I walked back home feeling pretty accomplished holding my kosher deli meat in my bag.

Rabbi Tomi’s shul is Neolog, which is the biggest denomination here. I promised that I would try and find out more about it, so here are my first impressions/initial understandings. Neolog shuls seem to have vibes of very traditional Judaism. The prayer service basically mirrors an Orthodox one, it is not egalitarian, and men and women sit separately, although without a mechitzah. Further, almost all Neologs do not actually practice halachic Judaism in their homes. Outside of Orthodoxy, it is incredibly rare to find someone who keeps Shabbat and Kashrut.*** Friday night is the big night for Shabbat, because the tunes are easier to pick up and the service is shorter. After shul, people go out to dinner or out for some weekend entertainment. I noticed that mi sheberach for cholim and for the State of Israel and the IDF were all said on Friday night. I’m guessing that was because people connect to those and want to hear them, but they only come to shul on Fridays. 

(***Side note on Kashrut. There are a couple kosher supermarkets here, but when you go to an ordinary market, ordinary products like chips or cookies will not have a hechsher like they do in the States. Keeping kosher here (besides the very machmir religious people, of which I’m sure there are few) means not eating milk and meat together, and only buying kosher meat. It is a waste of time and money to try and find only hechshered dairy products. On my first day here, I went to Linda’s parents house because she needed to stop by. Her mother offered me chicken and Linda said it’s not kosher (enough for me), and Linda’s mom responded, “it’s chicken! it’s chicken!”, the implication being “Son, you are going to starve if you are this picky about these things.” )

Rabbi Tomi’s shul is on the Buda side of the river, so my walk to shul included a walk across a gorgeous bridge with the Parliament and Castle decorating the periphery along the shores. It seems like all apartment buildings have a central courtyard. The synagogue was built in the late 1800s, and about 30 years later, an apartment complex was built around it. The apartments were filled with Jews, and the apartment complex helped to conceal the synagogue. During WWII, almost all of those Jews were murdered. To this day, the synagogue doesn’t have a great relationship with some of the apartment residents, because they are the children and grandchildren of the people who moved in to the “vacant” apartments during the war.

I appreciated the warm welcome that Tomi offered me before his congregation, and the welcomes that people offered me. Walking up to the shul, I noticed a guy not-so-inconspicuously standing around the gate, who I understood was the security man. Every synagogue has one outside the doors. I walked up sheepishly and pointed to the shul and said to him “is that the synagogue” and he said “why are you asking me?” I said, I’m Jewish and pointed to my kippah and I told him my name, and he knew who I was and let me in. Once in shul, some people came up to welcome me. One guy about my age said he lives with some other Jewish guys and would love to have me over at some point. That meant a lot to me. Some people pointed out with great pride how gently and kindly Rabbi Tomi and Linda treat the children of the shul, and I could tell that they really do show such love towards all of the kids there. 

Finding me a Kosher Shabbat seudah was not so easy. In the end, Linda set me up with Gabor, the head of Jewish studies at the Lauder School, the large Jewish school in Budapest (with over 700 kids from preschool through high school). I managed to find his apartment without my phone thanks to maps that Linda drew for me. Gabor had his friend over who had made aliyah and spent time studying at the CY and Pardes, and we bonded over some mutual friends and experiences. The seudah was really lovely, and it felt great to have a cozy and familiar Shabbat experience my first week there. Turns out that when Rebecca Schorsch did her year with the JDC in Budapest in 1989, she and Gabor were close friends. He even pointed out her old apartment to me, just a block or two down my same street!

Gabor told me I could come to shul the next morning if I wanted. I managed to sleep past 9AM (my best yet!), but still had plenty of time to kill before Shabbat ended, so I went because it was close by. It was an orthodox shul, and an older crowd. I had first aliyah (levi bimkom cohen), which was nice. An old man came up to me and was saying things in a harsh whisper in Hungarian. I think he didn’t like my blue tallit. Oh well.. Afterwards, there was a little kiddush highlighted by a vast alcohol collection, and I had a little cup of whisky and some cake and pretzels. 

I went home and napped for a few hours (no relation to that one cup of whisky), but still had a lot of time to kill until Shabbat ended. It was also raining a little, and it felt like time was moving very slowly without much to do. The rain subsided and I decided to go for a run. Off the bridge that I crossed to go into Buda for shul, there is the Margaret Island, which is like Budapest’s Central Park. The Danube is maybe as wide as the Mississippi, and this island runs narrowly down it, probably about a mile long. There are parks, and zoos, and pools, and all sorts of things happening there. There is a 5K track along the perimeter, so I ran one lap, with the Danube always on my right side. 


After showering, eating a sandwich with my kosher deli, and reading a little, Shabbat had ended.

After Shabbat, I met up with the BBYO madrichim, with whom I’ll be working closely this year. Szófi met me near my apartment to help walk me over to meet the rest. She is a 24 year old grad student who is very involved in “the community” (which is the way people describe their involvement in the Jewish community). I loved the chance to talk to her and hear about her life, and have her point things out to me along the walk. We met up with Noemi and her sister first. Noemi’s dad is American and she was born there and has lived there for a number of years. She is a senior in high school now. She has perfect English, but Szófi's English is also at an incredibly high level.*** We walked to a ruins bar, which is a Hungarian specialty. Many decrepit buildings were transformed into really cool pubs in the area that was once the Jewish ghetto. We found a table at one pub, and we were ultimately joined by David (who is a junior in high school) and Imola (who is almost 21). Also, Vera joined us, who works with the BBYO JR group. It was really a great time just hanging out with them. They are all incredibly nice, and we carried good conversation throughout the evening. They asked me “So… are you like really really Jewish?” and I said that my answer differs slightly when an American and a Hungarian asks me, but I suppose the answer is yes, being a shomer shabbat and kashrut person. But I shared that many of my Jewish views are considered quite progressive, and that I am also generally comfortable at least trying out all sorts of Jewish spaces.
***Side note on language: I'm pretty sure most kids learn English in school. Between middle school and high school, I think that students take a year just to learn foreign languages. I think either most include English, or English might be required. 

We also talked about BBYO here, and where I fit in to the picture. They have a lot of fun, and their membership is pretty incredible considering they are just one year old, but none of them are trained in how to give real structure to their chapter. They want to know more about how to create a calendar with diverse events, how to adapt some of the broader BBYO initiatives and program models (in terms of Israel advocacy and awareness, tikkun olam, and social events), and just kind of generally give more direction to their program. I think I can definitely help try and give them a sense of direction and structure. They and Linda all shared with me that they had a hard time choosing between me and another candidate whose forte is that he brings much more pure fun to the table. Ultimately, they decided that my sort of professional outlook and familiarity with the youth group model was what they needed most during this infancy period for their chapter.

So that's where I am now! I'm finishing this post from my new apartment, which is beautiful, and it just feels so nice to finally settle in to my home. Overall, it's been a great adventure so far! Moving to a new country has all sorts of interesting challenges which I could devote a whole blog post to, but I don't want to sound unhappy, because I am truly not. But all things considered, it has been interesting, exciting, and successful in many different ways.

Looking forward to what this next week brings!!!!