So, I think its true- it really seems like being Jewish means being part of a universal secret society, one with members all over the world and that as soon as you prove to them you part of the club (despite your blond hair and blue eyes) you in! The signals could be anything- a bit of Hebrew, a Yiddish expression here and there, knowing the tunes of some key songs or a strange obsession with a little patch of land in the Middle East. I have now spent four shabbases as well as Pesach in a variety of near-strangers houses and they have all welcomed me as one of them, smothering me in food and chatting freely about topics not that different to the ones we would discuss around my Shabbas table. (With Chabad in Antwerp being the one exception where the conversations were mainly Yiddish or Hebrew and purely Jewish Matters.)
I spent my Pesach Seders in Antwerp which was quite an experience. On arrival I had to confirm I was not in Jerusalem or even Meir Sharim. The streets were swarming with black hatters, payered children and even strimmels (not even going to attempt to spell this words correctly), everyone rushing to get last things done before Pesach. The tram passed about 5 kosher restaurants and almost every door had a Mezuzah on it. I stayed with a Chabbad family after the wife insisted I could not stay in a Youth Hostel over Yom Tov and should stay with them-total strangers although I was admonished by her husband at even the suggestion that I was as stranger. (Father Abraham had many sons….) The truth is when I agreed I didn’t quite think through what I was getting myself into- screaming children, pealed vegetables, only home made foods all as an extra precaution against Chumutz. Even the Matzah could not be eaten with other food or on the table for that matter, in case a bit of flour is left on the Matzah and comes into contact with water and may rise…. A tad bit crazy but then again my friends in the residents with me probably don’t think I’m any less crazy for eating cardboard for a week!
Truth be told you got to give Chabbad credit. We always so quick to judge them as ‘nutters’, maybe they are but they welcomed me into their house as one of them, fed me and made me comfortable for three days. They may grow up with pictures of the Rebbe hanging from their prams or dolls that have to be Kashered for Pesach but that is the life they used to. The children seemed happy and rather this Jewish brand of fanaticism whose worst crime is nutty eating habits. Definitely beats our Muslim brothers more explosive version of taking religion too far. Antwerp itself was great I spent Friday doing some sightseeing while I could, a little shopping (there are amazing shops), went to the Pieter Paul Rubens Museum so got in a bit of culture as well as the red sea line museum. Even managed to get in a Belgium Waffle while overlooking the castle. In general a beautiful City. On Shabbas I walked some more, sat reading my book in ‘Cholent Park,’ a beautiful great expanse in the middle of the “ghetto” and even went past the House where my Grandfather grew up before the war. (Which is now a Yeshivah)” The house was very close to where I stayed and kept thinking about how my grand papa and his family walked these same streets when he was growing up.
The seders themselves where also experiences, the first night was a communal Seder where I sat at a table with a Brazilian doing his doctorate in the History of Economics; A Romanian Couple (they had lived all over the world and now live in Antwerp which is a compromise allowing them to live together while she spends four hours a day commuting to University and he spends two hours commuting to work in Amsterdam- Guess that’s real love), a Canadian couple and a Belgium family-interesting! The sedar on the second night began at 10:30 when the sunset and ended at 4 the morning! ( by the time got to sleep felt like a night out at Manhatten!) Well kinda… In between the Sedar and continues interspersions of ‘torah wisdom’ I spent the night talking to an American backpacker who told me all I needed to know about getting dope in Europe and how he is “taking Europe back to America” in terms of its comparably lax drinking and drugs restrictions.
On the way to shul on the second night I bumped into a guy I had met in Geneva at the European Weekend (talk about a small world!) I spent the second day with him and his group of friends, a bunch of ‘Mizrachi/Bnie Akiva’ type kids who I could better identify with. I was struck by their very strong Zionism, with a bunch of them back on holiday from Israel where they were doing National service, working as medics in the army or hoping to enter combat units. What’s more they all spoke fluent Hebrew as their home language. I found this amazing, no matter how strong the Belgium Jewish community it signalled that their first home was Israel and I found it very humbling.
Another thing that has struck me being here has been how the face of Gillad Shalit and the other soldiers can be found in Synagogues from Geneva to Antwerp, the same photos I have on my wall in South Africa. It really signalled to me the solidarity of the Jewish People and how three boys are not forgotten and the pain is felt by Jewish mothers all over the world. Its funny being outside Israel I feel more passionately Zionist than ever before. So many of the people I meet are ardent Zionists who feel the same love as me for Israel, the love and connection you cannot articulate or explain but just feel it and it is made even stronger by the knowledge that others feel it too. I truly feel fortunate to have this opportunity to meet all these people, from so many diverse backgrounds but that share a single ineffable bond of being Jewish and loving Israel.
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