A truly religious experience
Yesterday I was invited by Ryan to attend a seder. Those of you who really know me should know how excited I was, as I always like being exposed to different cultural experiences. Throughout the afternoon, I imagined being invited into this warm, kosher household as I ate potato latkes under the glow of candlelight and Hebrew prayers. It would be the kind of experience most prized by religious tourists such as myself: "authentic."
Upon picking Ryan up from his apartment, however, I learned that a very different experience awaited us:
"So, who's hosting the seder?" I ask Ryan casually, making a gentle turn onto 10th street. "Vince, from SGA," he responds. "You remember him from the SGA Winter Dinner, right?" My forehead scrunches as I try to remember. "Oh, the really charismatic guy?" Ryan laughs. "You can say it. Yes. The very gay guy. And his boyfriend, too." "Oh," I respond, still not thinking too much of it. "I didn't realize he was Jewish." "He's not," Ryan laughs. I begin to get more confused. "Oh," I say. "Well...how is he hosting a seder then? Is his boyfriend Jewish?" A cackle. "His boyfriend is from southern Arkansas." I'm now beginning to get frustrated. "Well then? What's with the seder?"
Ryan soon explains that Vince, an active member of GA Tech's GLBT organization, mentors a young GA Tech freshmen named Adam. Adam, in his quest for identity, expressed his wish to Vince to get more in touch with his "Jewish roots." Vince, eager to help him out, volunteered to host a seder at his apartment. As Adam lives in the undergrad "international house," it would be sponsored by funding from the university as a "cultural experience" if members from SGA and the international house attended. We were invited.
We soon arrive on the corner of 8th and Juniper, where nothing but gorgeous apartment complexes surround us. "I thought that Vince was a grad student," I say, looking at the Tuscany-style apartment building that matches the address we have. "Oh yeah. He has a trust fund, I think," Ryan says casually as we head in.
Vince greets us at the courtyard entrance. "I apologize for the apartment," he says. "It's a mess." Walking in, we are greeted by a group of flour-covered undergraduates poring over a recipe for matzo ball soup. "It's supposed to sit for an hour!" a punky dressed Argentinian girl whines. "How the hell am I supposed to know?! My mom makes kimchee!" a stressed out boy beside her responds. I look over into the impeccably decorated IKEA living room. There Adam sits, cutting out kippas (yammakahs) out of construction paper. Out of pink and purple construction paper. "Vince," he yelps as he looks at the Maxwell House free guide to Passover. "I can't read this! It's in Hebrew!" Soon Vince's two spaniels, Atlas and Argus, start barking from the sun room. "Oh Jesus Christ!" Vince yells at them. He then turns to me, "Yes, I know. I probably shouldn't be invoking the Lord our Savior at this dinner. He's not invited, right?"
As dinner is going to take "a little bit longer than we thought," Vince decides to entertain us with his DVD collection of Euro-pop hits from the 80s. We rock out to crowd hits such as Army of Lovers' (a Swedish band) single, "Crucified" [The words to the chorus ring, "I'm crucified! Crucified like my savior! Saintlike behavior, A lifetime I prayed!"], Blur's most famous hit "Girls who like Boys who like Boys who like Girls," and my personal favorite group of the night, Sestre (meaning 'sisters'), a transvestite pop band from Slovenia who hit it big with their single, "Only Love."
Finally around 10:30pm Adam is ready to begin the seder. The presentation, in all fairness, is quite good: little plates come adorned with kephelte (that's my guess of the spelling) fish, the apple/nut dip for the celery, and plenty of Manischewitz matza. We leave a cup of wine for Elijiah, should he return, and Adam assumes the role of "Rabbi." While we skip half of the passover book [Adam's version of the Exodus story: "So the Israelites are enslaved, blah blah blah, lots of plagues, and then they escape."] we do manage to maintain some kind of cohesive structure to the ceremony. Despite repeated groans of a hungry group of about 12, Adam makes sure we bless every item of food before we eat it with the appropriate prayer. All the men wore their pink or purple yammakahs, and we all dutifully recline ["to the LEFT!" Adam repeadetdly reminds us] while we eat. Around 11:30pm, after being well fed with matzo ball soup, chicken, Manischewitz coffee cake, and brownies, the dinner is over.
While the seder obviously was nowhere near what I was expecting, I loved every minute of it. What better can speak true of humanity's search for meaning and identity than to be gathered around a table of food and ritual that has been performed for centuries -- many of which were laden with years of suffering, oppression, and annihaliation -- while surrounded by a multi-ethnic group of people whose friendship and love with each other have transcended race, gender, and institutionalized religion? I found myself deeply moved by the juxtaposition of new and old, of the effortlessness in welcoming both tradition and progress into the dinner. And while I still look forward to one day attending a more...conventional...seder, no one could ever say that this dinner was anything but authentic. It was authentic in its compassionate hospitality, its motivation, and its true reminder that where we were before in chains, we are now free.
Oh, and I did get my potato latkes. They were quite excellent.
Upon picking Ryan up from his apartment, however, I learned that a very different experience awaited us:
"So, who's hosting the seder?" I ask Ryan casually, making a gentle turn onto 10th street. "Vince, from SGA," he responds. "You remember him from the SGA Winter Dinner, right?" My forehead scrunches as I try to remember. "Oh, the really charismatic guy?" Ryan laughs. "You can say it. Yes. The very gay guy. And his boyfriend, too." "Oh," I respond, still not thinking too much of it. "I didn't realize he was Jewish." "He's not," Ryan laughs. I begin to get more confused. "Oh," I say. "Well...how is he hosting a seder then? Is his boyfriend Jewish?" A cackle. "His boyfriend is from southern Arkansas." I'm now beginning to get frustrated. "Well then? What's with the seder?"
Ryan soon explains that Vince, an active member of GA Tech's GLBT organization, mentors a young GA Tech freshmen named Adam. Adam, in his quest for identity, expressed his wish to Vince to get more in touch with his "Jewish roots." Vince, eager to help him out, volunteered to host a seder at his apartment. As Adam lives in the undergrad "international house," it would be sponsored by funding from the university as a "cultural experience" if members from SGA and the international house attended. We were invited.
We soon arrive on the corner of 8th and Juniper, where nothing but gorgeous apartment complexes surround us. "I thought that Vince was a grad student," I say, looking at the Tuscany-style apartment building that matches the address we have. "Oh yeah. He has a trust fund, I think," Ryan says casually as we head in.
Vince greets us at the courtyard entrance. "I apologize for the apartment," he says. "It's a mess." Walking in, we are greeted by a group of flour-covered undergraduates poring over a recipe for matzo ball soup. "It's supposed to sit for an hour!" a punky dressed Argentinian girl whines. "How the hell am I supposed to know?! My mom makes kimchee!" a stressed out boy beside her responds. I look over into the impeccably decorated IKEA living room. There Adam sits, cutting out kippas (yammakahs) out of construction paper. Out of pink and purple construction paper. "Vince," he yelps as he looks at the Maxwell House free guide to Passover. "I can't read this! It's in Hebrew!" Soon Vince's two spaniels, Atlas and Argus, start barking from the sun room. "Oh Jesus Christ!" Vince yells at them. He then turns to me, "Yes, I know. I probably shouldn't be invoking the Lord our Savior at this dinner. He's not invited, right?"
As dinner is going to take "a little bit longer than we thought," Vince decides to entertain us with his DVD collection of Euro-pop hits from the 80s. We rock out to crowd hits such as Army of Lovers' (a Swedish band) single, "Crucified" [The words to the chorus ring, "I'm crucified! Crucified like my savior! Saintlike behavior, A lifetime I prayed!"], Blur's most famous hit "Girls who like Boys who like Boys who like Girls," and my personal favorite group of the night, Sestre (meaning 'sisters'), a transvestite pop band from Slovenia who hit it big with their single, "Only Love."
Finally around 10:30pm Adam is ready to begin the seder. The presentation, in all fairness, is quite good: little plates come adorned with kephelte (that's my guess of the spelling) fish, the apple/nut dip for the celery, and plenty of Manischewitz matza. We leave a cup of wine for Elijiah, should he return, and Adam assumes the role of "Rabbi." While we skip half of the passover book [Adam's version of the Exodus story: "So the Israelites are enslaved, blah blah blah, lots of plagues, and then they escape."] we do manage to maintain some kind of cohesive structure to the ceremony. Despite repeated groans of a hungry group of about 12, Adam makes sure we bless every item of food before we eat it with the appropriate prayer. All the men wore their pink or purple yammakahs, and we all dutifully recline ["to the LEFT!" Adam repeadetdly reminds us] while we eat. Around 11:30pm, after being well fed with matzo ball soup, chicken, Manischewitz coffee cake, and brownies, the dinner is over.
While the seder obviously was nowhere near what I was expecting, I loved every minute of it. What better can speak true of humanity's search for meaning and identity than to be gathered around a table of food and ritual that has been performed for centuries -- many of which were laden with years of suffering, oppression, and annihaliation -- while surrounded by a multi-ethnic group of people whose friendship and love with each other have transcended race, gender, and institutionalized religion? I found myself deeply moved by the juxtaposition of new and old, of the effortlessness in welcoming both tradition and progress into the dinner. And while I still look forward to one day attending a more...conventional...seder, no one could ever say that this dinner was anything but authentic. It was authentic in its compassionate hospitality, its motivation, and its true reminder that where we were before in chains, we are now free.
Oh, and I did get my potato latkes. They were quite excellent.