Fun Puns and Alliterations for Celebrating Sukkot in 2022

Yes, Sukkot has come and gone this year, but after many years of creating alliterative names for the nightly meals in the Sukkah, I thought it might be fun to compile a ton so that when next year rolls around and we're hopefully gathering with friends and family ... you can have some fun, alliterative meals!

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Chag sameach! #sukkot #sukkah #beingjewish

A post shared by Chaviva Gordon-Bennett (@thechaviva) on Oct 2, 2020 at 1:41pm PDT

For those not in the know, a sukkah is a temporary structure that is also called a booth or a hut or a tabernacle (the latter most often outside of Jewish circles). With that, I give you the alliterative options:

In the sukkah ...

• Sushi in the sukkah (served with sake in the sukkah)
• Spaghetti in the sukkah
• Make-your-own-salad in the sukkah
• Make-your-own-sandwich in the sukkah
• Sabich in the sukkah
• Sausages in the sukkah
• Smoothies in the sukkah
• Subs in the sukkah (as in, sub sandwiches)
• Sambusak in the sukkah (think: middle eastern samosas)

In the shack ...

These could also be used for "in the sukkah."

• Shakshukah in the shack
• Schnitzel in the shack
• Shakes in the shack
• Shepherd’s pie in the shack

In the booth ...

• Beers in the booth
• Brews in the booth
• Burgers in the booth
• Bagels in the booth
• Banana splits in the booth
• Bibimbap in the booth
• Blintzes in the booth
• Burritos in the booth
• Bourekas in the booth
• Hummus v'basar in the booth

In the hut ...

• Hot dogs in the hut
• Pizza in the hut (this is not alliterative, but a nod to Pizza Hut!)
• Hamburgers in the hut
• Hot pot in the hut
• Herring in the hut
• Heroes in the hut (as in sub sandwiches)
• Hamin in the hut (hamin is similar to cholant)
• Huevos rancheros in the hut
• Hummus in the hut

In the tabernacle ...

• Tacos in the tabernacle
• Tequila in the tabernacle
• Turkey in the tabernacle
• Make-your-own-toast in the tabernacle
• Tajine in the tabernacle

And a few more:

• Pancakes in the palapa
• Pancakes in the payag 

Another one that I came up with was cholent or chile en la choza (chili in the hut), but I was told that choza in Spanish is actually more of a hovel than a hut. If you speak Spanish and can let me know, I'd love to hear it in the comments!

Want to share one I didn't think of? Post in the comments and I'll add it to the list!

I Suck at Sticking to Things, but I'm Good at Being a Social Introvert

So ... you remember that time I said, it's a new year! It's 5779! This is the year I blog every single day!

Yeah. That didn't happen. The thing is, when it takes 20 to 30 days to create and maintain a good habit, how do you get to that point to actually make the habit stick? Maybe I'm just not at a time in my life where it makes sense. By the time my brain has settled down even a little bit and I can start thinking about the things I want to write for the sake of my own verbal bliss, I'm usually in bed, too tired to sit up, and my brain just spins and spins and spins. The hamster runs at light speed when I'm supposed to be sleeping. I have the most amazing ideas, the most profound thoughts. And then I get really angry at myself because I don't have the energy to get up, get my computer, and put fingers to keyboard and make something happen.

So I'm not going to do resolutions or promises or commitments to do X every Y number of days. My husband kept asking me if I was going to start learning Daf Yomi, as I was so inspired by If All the Seas Were Ink, but I didn't. I can't. I won't. I don't have the time. I literally cannot pen in a specific time every day to make it happen. In my line of work, calls come up, people need things sporadically,  and I simply don't have the willpower to wake up at 5 a.m. every day before everyone is awake to commit to it.

Basically? I suck at resolutions. I blame being a mommy. Scratch. I blame it on being a working mommy.

When I was single and living in D.C. and then Chicago, I sat and went through the weekly Torah portion every single week like a gangster of gemara. I was good at it, I kept to it, it was my thing. I look back at that girl and think, "DAMN girl. You go. You go girl. You get your learn on."

So enough about my inability to stick to anything for more than five seconds, let's talk about me being a ridiculous introvert.

A few days ago I was standing at the local King Soopers in the self-checkout lane. I go to the self-checkout religiously (like, I'm better at sticking to my ability to self-checkout than to write) because it prevents me from having to engage with strangers. Even when I have a coupon or run into an error or need my ID checked, the interaction is non-verbal and quick. It's bearable. But when I was standing there on a Sunday and the store was busy and the self-checkout was packed, someone walked up to me and said, "I can help you on number 11, ma'am."

I was playing on my phone, and I froze. I had two options:

• Tell the nice checkout guy that I was intentionally waiting in line and to leave me to my mobile device, pretty please. 
• Take the nice checkout guy up on his offer and have to engage in conversation and awkward smiles and unwanted dialogue and ... my worst nightmare. 

The reality of having to explain that I was happy to be anti-social and wait in the line was too unbearable so I went through the guy's checkout lane and it was just as awkward and unwanted as I thought it would be. 

Thanks, but no thanks. 

But then there was the few days over the Jewish holiday season where we had guests over and it was wonderful. I was, undoubtedly, exhausted after people left, because that's what being social does to me. It drains every last ounce of energy and strength I have. But it was so nice, I remembered why I loved to host. During the year, we never host because our house is too tiny. But when we can move outside and into the sukkah, we have an actual dining room people! Space to have multiple people and families over. So we invited friends over, the kids played in the backyard, people spent all afternoon with us, and it was great. I fed people, I talked, I schmoozed. It felt good.

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Chag sameach! #sukkot #beingjewish #sukkah #colorado #denver #itwascoldthismorning

A post shared by Chaviva Gordon-Bennett (@thechaviva) on Sep 27, 2018 at 4:43pm PDT

I'm an odd duck, honestly. I crave interaction and desire to be included in social activities and outings, but at the same time I do absolutely nothing to include myself or inject myself into the lives of my friends. 

I know there's a name for it -- social introversion -- but I also struggle with it making sense to people. Everyone says how great I get along with people and how social I am, but the physical and emotional toll it takes is what people don't see. 

So now we're back to the regular year where we're back inside our house and can't host anymore. I'm both relieved and disappointed. I wish we had the space to bring in friends every few weeks. Our kids love it. And sometimes, just sometimes, the mess their friends bring with them is worth it. Until next Sukkot ... 

Sukkot in the Land of Memory

Today is one of those days that's made for Mumford and Sons circa winter 2010-11.

Those were melancholy days where I spent a lot of time on the backroads of Pennsylvania on dangerous, winding roads drifting between a coffee shop and a Poconos bungalow that was never mine.

Leaves in burnt orange, rusty red, and deep marigold mixed with splashes of rain all send me back to that place, and Colorado is deep in that weather at the moment.

After a three-day holiday (that was the first two days of Sukkot plus Shabbat) home with the little one, where I was reminded -- once again and for the last time -- that I simply can't take Ash out at night, the oddest thing about not having Mr. T around on holidays and Shabbat became apparent.

Kiddush. Motzi. Havdalah.

It might seem like minutiae, but there are many things as far as ritual in Judaism that I was never keen on making my own. I know a lot of families where the husband does kiddush (that's the blessing over the wine on holidays and Shabbat typically) and the wife handles motzi (that's the blessing over the challot, or bread). In most communities havdalah (the blessings to mark the end of a holiday or Sabbath) is done at synagogue or handled by the husband at home. Yes, it seems very patriarchal, but for some reason, I really like those aspects of my married life.

I've been trying to remember whether, when I was single and religious, I did these things at home, relied on synagogue for them, or just didn't do them at all. Part of me thinks I heard the prayers at synagogue and covered my bases there, but part of me also feels like maybe I just didn't do them when I was alone at home, which is probably why I tried desperately to get meals out on the holidays so I didn't have to do them myself.

Does it sound weird? Being so unwilling to do a few simple blessings over some wine or bread once a week? After all, a woman is totally allowed and, in fact, encouraged to make kiddush. There's nothing about a woman not being able to say motzi, either.

There's just something that's always been comfortable in my world about having my husband, the "head" of the house, the super-duper, obligated-to-do-so-many-mitzvahs guy, taking control of these ritual acts. I'm all in love with being a progressive, forward-thinking working woman, but some things just feel right a certain way.

So I went through the motions, with Ash squiggling about, saying the prayers and inhaling gluten-free challah at a table set for the night meals. We'll repeat the ritual again at the end of Sukkot, too. But I'll be glad when the holidays are over.

The thing I keep telling myself is that the pain of separation from a spouse for the potential of months, not weeks, is that this is how people used to live. Husbands would go on trading routes or off to war for months, if not years, leaving wives and children back home to fend for themselves. In those days (even 50-100 years ago), there wasn't Skype or FaceTime or Facebook or texting or other instant forms of communication. There was a hope that -- maybe -- you'd hear from someone in a few weeks or months.

In reality, I'm spoiled. I'm lucky. I'm able to chat with Mr. T daily (save the three-day holiday situation and Shabbat, of course).

Then again, as a good friend R.C. pointed out, women also didn't have the obligations of full-time jobs back in those days. They stayed home and kept house or ran the shop with hired help or other similar assistance.

Although I'm going to miss many months of hearing my husband say prayers over the wine and bread we eat on a weekly basis, I'm blessed to live in the 21st century and in a Jewish community where people are ready and willing to help -- even if I don't always take people up on their kindness.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

Sukkot and the Ushpizin

I can't help but reshare this infographic for Sukkot. Feel free to print out your own version and hang it up in the sukkah! I have one for ours, even though we won't be building one this year (Mr. T is indefinitely stuck in the UK, so Ash and I are relying on the kindness of strangers for meals, friendship, and sanity).

Also, if you're curious about the ushpizin and the traditions surrounding these special guests, check out my article over on About.com: The Seven Guests Who Make the Sukkah Special

Do you do anything special for Sukkot? Do you have any unique traditions? Let me know!

Israel and My First Sukkah

I'm sitting in my favorite Jerusalem coffee shop because our wifi in the new apartment isn't working and I am a "work from home" desk jockey, and right before my eyes, arising out of nowhere, is a sukkah! (And it's coffee themed, no less.)

Yes, the beautiful thing about living in a Jewish community is that all of your favorite restaurants throw up sukkot -- or booths, huts, shanties -- for the weeklong holiday where we're commanded to eat, drink, and be merry all outside in the sukkah. The great thing about living in Israel is that this is basically happening everywhere. Why? It's a mitzvah to eat in the sukkah! So if you're the kind of establishment that wants Jews of every flavor and religious leaning to show up during the holiday, you put up a sukkah.

Note: The sukkah is meant to be reminiscent of the temporary huts the Israelites were forced to dwell in during their 40 years wandering in the desert. It's also one of the Three Holidays that the Israelites/Jews would pilgrimage into Jerusalem to the Temple. Oddly enough, according to the prophet Zecheriah, in Messianic times, all nations of the world will celebrate Sukkot and pilgrimage to Jerusalem to celebrate. So to my non-Jewish readers: Brush up on your sukkah knowledge now! You never know when Mashiach will show up and you'll have to set up your own sukkah.

It might be hard to believe, but after "doing Jewish" for around 10 years now, I've never had my very own shiny, sparkly, law-abiding Sukkah. Despite a Reform conversion in 2006 and an Orthodox conversion in 2010, my sukkah experience has been relegated largely to community huts and those of close friends -- not to mention Sukkah City 2010, which was quite the experience.

One year my ex-husband attempted to install a sukkah on his deck, but he got flack from the neighborhood association and it fell down before we could even use it. I have experience with one-person pop-up sukkahs, large community sukkahs (including one that fell down around me), and sukkahs built in backyards, front yards, and everywhere in between.

But never have I built or decorated or dwelled for even a moment in my very own Sukkah! So this year, folks, this year is the year! It's the year of My First Sukkah. It's also the first year that I only have to observe one official "holiday" day at the beginning and end of the weeklong holiday. (In Israel, most of the Jewish festivals are only observed for one day, because theoretically we're close enough to Jerusalem know the calendar. Outside of Israel, most holidays are two days, because the idea is that Jews in the Diaspora would have to wait to hear when holidays began/ended. Yes, we have the internet and calendars, but this is just how we roll.)

With the holiday just a few days away, however, I'm left with a bit of panic: Where do I buy decorations? Do I even want to buy decorations? Should I create a theme that will create a tradition in our family? Should I go minimalist? Ahhhh! Plastic fruit: yay or nay? Cheesy posters of the patriarchs (who we invite in like visitors, because it's a huge mitzvah to invite people into your sukkah)?

The benefit of never having a sukkah of my own was that I never had to decorate it. May this be the worst of my problems this year, right?

Luckily, for us, our sukkah in the new apartment is up year round. According to the laws of sukkah, we're covered by the fact that there are two cement walls attached to the apartment where there is a glass sliding door, plus the rails on the fourth side of the balcony (with a beautiful view, I might add). We're borrowing the "roof" (called a skach in Hebrew) from our new landlord, and we recently picked up some plastic chairs that are currently serving as our dining room chairs (we're classy, and not rolling in money). As far as the basics, we're set.

As of now, the only "decoration" I have is a printed out and laminated infographic on Sukkot. I could run with the theme and just go nuts printing out and laminating infographics on the holiday, but that might be a little wonky and once Little Z is less fetus and more small child making cute pictures in school, I don't know how well they'll match. (Here's a thought: Teach Little Z about infographics in-utero!)

Decorations or not, I'm just blessed to live in a country where on every corner, on every balcony, in every little nook and cranny in this country, I'll be privy to sukkot of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Do you have a theme for your sukkah? If you don't have your own sukkah (yet), what would be your theme of choice? 

Sukkot: The Ushpizin Infographic

Absolutely loving this infographic. Hopefully, you'll be able to find it in my sukkah!

Another Year, Another Number

So ... it's my Gregorian, crawled-from-the-womb-of-my-mother birthday. I'm 29 years old today. That means next year I'll be 30, and that's an age I've always longed for. Why? I can't say exactly. I just feel like it's some kind of prized accomplishment to hit 30. Twenty-nine, it seems, is not so exciting. But at least I remembered my birthday this year.

I slept in, went and got a massage thanks to a gift credit from an awesome coworkers, bought myself a birthday cake to take to a friend's sukkah tonight, and am now sitting outside of a Whole Foods still greased up from my massage drinking something called RUNA that advertises itself as "focused energy." Only 50 calories per bottle! Hoo-rah!

So what is my wisdom? What is my grand statement of day of birth clarity?

I honestly don't have one. Birthdays, it seems, are irrelevant at this age. I don't get gifts anymore, and the only in-the-mail card I got was from the stellar Tenzin (thank you!). It's another day, and that's okay.

If you look back to Tanakh, the only birthday ever mentioned was Pharoah's, and he was no friend to the Israelities -- so why do we even celebrate birthdays? Age, it seems, was only important at the point someone died or something major happened.

Perhaps someday a biography will state, "At age 29, Chaviva moved to Israel." And then it will skip forward to the next age-significant moment in my life's chronology.

When I was in kindergarten I had a bowling party. After that I think it was mostly sleepovers. My 16th birthday involved miniature gummies that were shaped like hamburgers. When I turned 21, I met my (mostly) underage friends for dinner at Old Chicago and then went bar hopping with my newspaper coworkers and imbibed quite a lot of Bomb Pops (perhaps the most delicious girly beverage on the face of the earth). After that? Birthdays stopped being fun and started being obligatory. Two years ago, I got my first ever surprise "party" on Shabbat when my ex-husband took me out while sick to a friend's apartment where there were mini-festivities as I sniffed and coughed and felt like utter hell.

So there we are. It's 2012, I'm 29 years old, and it's really nothing special. I'm crazy stoked for Sukkot, but I'm realizing that leggings or tights or something warmer than what I currently seem to have in my wardrobe might be necessary.

Here's to another year. And celebratory birthday leggings. Chag sameach, everyone!

Figuring it Out

The thing about being me, is that I have very few of the major chagim as an "observant" Jew under my belt. Every time the High Holidays or Pesach or some other major Jewish holiday rolls around, I freak out. I almost ignore the impending bigness in order to not freak out. I get nervous because I don't even have as many "sort of" observant holidays in my past as many secular Jews do. I stopped eating pork and shellfish probably seven years ago, before I found a (Reform) rabbi or a (Reform) shul, but I didn't take on observing the chagim seriously until probably three years ago. I might have fasted on Yom Kippur, but not seriously. I might have considered the idea of Pesach and stopped eating bread, but the rest? Nah. And Sukkot? Well, I probably have the least experience with this multi-faceted time of year.

Last year, I was in the community in Connecticut, I was sukkah hopping, I was running out in the rain with challah and sparlic (parsley + garlic + olive oil) in tow, just for a b'racha. The funny thing is, I didn't really understand last year that as a woman, I'm not bound to the mitzvah of sukkah, but getting soaked for the sake of a bracha was worth it. Simchat Torah last year was my first real one, in which I watched people dance with the Torah and rejoice in Judaism. It was a lively, unforgettable experience.

But still, this year, I was unprepared. I've never had these holidays to myself, in my own home, with my own rules and my own plans. Overwhelmed, is how I felt.

The community put up a communal sukkah, and most of the couples in the apartments headed family-bound. Overall I'd say there were probably about six or seven couples around, and enough men to make a minyan. I made lunch plans for Thursday and Friday with some awesome friends who were hanging around, and I began to panic: What are the rules for the communal sukkah? How big is it? Are there chairs? Tables? Do we sign up? Do we have to wait for a place to sit? Are there lights? How do we wash outside? And the list goes on and on ... I panicked. Over meals in a hut.

Luckily, everything came together fine, despite Mother Nature's wrath the moment the chag started. Yes, a storm of the likes of that one that smacked Brooklyn (although, in truth, not as bad) hit us out of nowhere. Luckily, Tuvia and I had decided to not eat in the sukkah because my allergies were killer. We saved ourselves half the roof caving in and the extreme and fast downpour. The next day we hit up the sukkah and saw the damage, which was significant, but half the sukkah was in working order. We had several more meals there, until Saturday around lunchtime when the winds picked up and, while sitting in the sukkah, I made the executive decision to exit the sukkah as the walls were shaky. Just as I started to pack up, more of the ceiling came crashing down, along with a couple two-by-fours.

But the experience? Outstanding. Unique. Special.

Sitting in a sort-of functional sukkah, we joined a large group of families that ate most of their meals together, an older couple with a challah cover that seemed ages-old, a guy who came for kiddush and motzi ("how lucky women are!") and another awesome couple with the most amazing second-night idea: cheese, crackers, and salad (no worry about preparing here, folks). We had our separate food, our separate dishes and plates and cups, but we all ate together, swatting mosquitoes (it was far too hot) and laughing at the same jokes. We were eavesdropping on one another, but conversing with one another. We were all together, separately. It was a powerful, communal experience. Chag sameachs abounded and offers of shared food followed. We were a tiny drop of the worldwide Jewish experience, sitting in huts, eating our food, laughing, and praying.

In the end, the tiny things didn't matter, and just being there did.

I suppose it will be years and years before I get adjusted to knowing how to do the chagim. Every year will come with anxieties and pressures, and the moment I have children I'm sure I'll freak out all over again over food and time and choreography. But the moment the candles are lit, everything stops, and it is that that matters most, for which I am most thankful. For which being Jewish comes fully to a head.

Chag Sameach!

I have a few posts in the que -- including an awesome sweepstakes that y'all will love. But for now, I just wanted to say CHAG SUKKOT SAMEACH to you all, and I hope that the first few days and Shabbos are filled with simcha and plenty of guests.

Someday I'll be able to sleep in the sukkah ... but this year? Not in the communal one (how does that work, anyway? do they put up a mechitzah?). Hopefully next year we'll be out in the Poconos and can build our own sukkah and rock it out. Maybe even invite people out!

My sheitel makes its National Television Debut!

I was secretly hoping that there would be a Sukkot-related craft segment yesterday in honor of my attendance at the live taping of The Martha Stewart Show. Alas, there wasn't. I did, however, get a sukkah full of Sukkot goodness yesterday at Sukkah City in Union Square in New York City. Have I blown your mind with information sans details yet? Let me elaborate.

The awesome Esti Berkowitz set me up with the opportunity to be in Martha's first Twitter section in which we'd get the opportunity to live tweet the show from our seats. I've live tweeted plenty of events before, most of them tech events, but this was a truly one-of-a-kind experience. I arrived at the studio yesterday around 8:30 a.m., stood in line for a while, was herded into a nice little waiting room, jazzed up in spirit and personality by the stage pro Joey, and then? We were taken in to the special Twitter section. The awesome part? There were only eight of us! We were in the front two rows (four in each row) of the audience, and in no time, the show was rolling. Between the second and third segment, Martha -- THE Martha Stewart -- actually spoke to us! Yes, she gave a shout-out to us, asked us if we were having fun, and thanked us for being there. Coming in and out of commercial breaks, there we were, Twittering away. The show featured eclectic fashion icon Iris Apfel and a variety of tips on consignment shopping (something I'm not a huge fan of largely because consignment clothes = really small). The show ended, they filmed a few promos and the intro to the episode set for Friday, and I was off.

I took a serious schlep (past an awesome  hat store that I wanted to raid, but, unfortunately, wholesale only -- hat business in my future?) and ended up at the subway, which I took down to South Union Square to meet up with my co-workers for a play day at Sukkah City. Unable to locate them once I was there, I decided to take a boatload of pictures and stand-by. Finally, I caught up with them, we schmoozed and discussed the exhibit, and then I was back to work. End scene of the coolest day.

I have a lot to say about Sukkah City, but I'll keep it short and give y'all some photos to ooo and aww over. Although the pamphlet at the main booth (which, by the way, didn't scream "information booth") had a little spiel on the back about what a sukkah is, but it neglected to say anything about it being Sukkot or that the holiday was a Jewish one. In fact, the word "Jewish" didn't exist at the Sukkah City display, and unless you went to the info booth, you probably left wondering what the heck a sukkah even was, outside of something to interpret in gnarly ways. I admire the organizers for putting together such an amazing contest that had such far-reaching entries, which also allowed for artists and architects the world over to really examine and explore what a sukkah is, as well as what a lot of the requirements (halakah) for a sukkah are. Word has it they even had an Orthodox rabbi on-staff to consult. The great thing about the exhibit was that the people exploring it were many and they were diverse -- student groups from a Solomon Schechter school, an adult group with rabbi in tow, and countless hipsters with fancy cameras snapping shot after shot with the perfect light. I was left wondering, however, if the exhibit made that all-too-common move of not being too Jewish. I think of Hillel here, which, on most campuses, tends to be scared to death of being too Jewish and scaring off its student body. Events tend to be "let's go bowling, oh, and you're Jewish, so, you know, that's cool, too." Social events for Jews, not Jewish events for socializing. New York City, after all, is full of Jews, and perhaps the assumption was that people would just know what the exhibit was about and for. In the end, I would have liked them to give a reference point -- hey, it's Sukkot starting Wednesday, hence the exhibit being now and here.

And now? Pictures!


Created with flickr slideshow from softsea.

Do You Really *Get* Shavuot?

Shavuot is right around the corner, and by that I mean it starts tomorrow night! Have you made your cheesecake? Warmed your blintzes? Figured out where all those Lactaid pills are? But seriously, cheese aside, have you really thought about Shavuot? Have you considered what the chag means, what it stands for both historically and religiously? Or has it been Colby Jack, Mozzarella, Cheese Puffs, and more dairy?

I was blessed to have a professor who really stressed to his undergraduate students the importance of the historical and the religious of the three pilgrimage festivals (a.k.a. Shlosha Regalim): Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.

The funny thing is, they've all but lost their agricultural (that is, pilgrimage) meanings, and they've come to mean a variety of things: Pesach being the holiday where we eat matzo and do those annoying seder things; Shavuot being that holiday where we stay up all night studying Torah and noshing dairy; and Sukkot the chag where we sit outside in booths and swat at flies. But what do these chagim really mean, and why are they tied together so tightly? In reality, you can't have one without the other, and if you celebrate one or two but not the others, you're really missing the point.

In a nutshell, agriculturally and historically, Passover starts the grain harvest, Shavuot marks the end of the grain harvest and the beginning of the fruit harvest, and Sukkot marks ... you guessed it ... the end of the fruit harvest. Living in the Diaspora, you really miss the sense of the seasons, and as such you really don't get these simple and basic histories behind the holidays.

Of course, each of them have religious significance as well, with Passover marking the Exodus, Shavuot marking the giving of the Torah at Sinai, and Sukkot commemorating the living of booths in the Wilderness of the Exile. Again, these historic/religious events are cyclical and play a part in a timeline that is, without a doubt, connected. You can't remember the Exile without remembering the Exodus, and the giving of the Torah is sort of insignificant unless you understand why it was given, where it was given, and how.

What's my point? My point here is that these holidays aren't just about our modern observances. Much of what we know about our modern observances (especially about Sukkot) come from sort of a mishmosh of understandings of the Biblical and Rabbinic texts, and although they are just as valid as everything else, it's the basics that are found in the Torah -- in regards to the agricultural festivals -- that really evolved these three pilgrimage/agricultural festivals!

Are you still jonesing to know why we down lots of dairy (and Lactaid) on Shavuot? There are a few interesting and compelling reasons for this. Perhaps my favorite being that the Israelites didn't know how to properly take on meat before the giving of the Torah, so they opted for dairy, dairy, and more dairy, until Moshe came back down and told them how to properly handle meat. Another popular opinion is that it is the sense of Israel as the "land of milk and honey" that appears throughout the Torah that is cause for us to get all milchig over the two-day chag in the Diaspora.

Whichever opinion you like, just make sure you don't forget where Shavuot really came from and that it's the beginning of the next harvest season. You might say, I guess, that the Jewish holidays are "more than meets the eye."

Haveil Havalim is Up!

You can check out the newest edition of Haveil Havalim -- The Sukkot Edition -- at Esser Agaroth.

Enjoy! Chag Sameach! And Shavua tov!

"Hello, This is Gilad."

I am lucky enough to be free. I am lucky enough to live in a part of the world where my religion and my lifestyle do not cause others to commit harm toward me on a daily basis. In Israel, perhaps I wouldn't be so lucky. HaShem knows that Gilad Shalit -- in captivity now for nearly 1,200 -- was not as lucky. Gilad is suffering for Jews the world over, for Israelis the world over, for humanity and the right to breathe.

Tonight begins Sukkot here where I live, and in Israel Jews are already observing Sukkot. We invite friends and family over, we sit in booths that we have built, and we eat food joyously with one another, laughing and singing and discussing the smaller things in life. And Gilad? He'll be sitting in captivity. But at least, baruch HaShem, we know he is still alive and with us. This Sukkot, this Sukkot will be about Gilad. And we know he's alive because Israel agreed to release dangerous Palestinian prisoners in exchange for this small look into Gilad's life, captured in early September. Is he still alive? We must hope so. We must know so.

This video, publicized today, had me in tears. I look at Gilad, reading from a script, looking up at the camera, and wonder what he must have been thinking when this was filmed. Knowing that the high holidays were coming. Knowing that Jews the world over were thinking -- and are thinking -- of him.



I don't know what the right answer is as far as getting Gilad back goes. I do know, however, that returning hundreds or thousands of violent criminals to Gaza and Hamas will not solve anything. But the famous adage for we Jews is that if you save one life, it is as if you've saved the world. And in suite, we must save Gilad.

Shabbat shalom v'chag sameach friends.

The Etrog of My Heart

Today, I did something I have never done before. I took some steps, into a structure, and did something that I have wanted to do for so long, yet, haven't had the chance to go through with.

I was on my way to the cafeteria for some lunch before my 12:30, and it was about 11:45. On my way I passed through the graduate quad and saw a table set up outside the pop-up sukkah, so I decided to pop by and see if I could get my lulav shaking on. Lo and behold, there was the fellow who got the sukkah put up doing some prayers. I stood off to the side, not wanting to intrude, and he came out of the sukkah, gestured for me to go in. He handed me the lulav, and delicately opened the little white box to reveal the etrog cradled gently in foam. He took it out and handed it to me, directing me on how to hold the two objects in my hands, but silently.

He opened his siddur, which, might I add, was all in Hebrew/English and lacking transliterations, and pointed to the prayers as I read them aloud -- in Hebrew -- while holding the objects. He then directed me in the movements of the objects: forward, to the heart, forward, to the heart ... and so on. The rustling of the lulav was accomplished with the most subtle of movements, and as I pulled the lulav and etrog toward me, it was as if the etrog were thrusting itself through to my heart, placing itself in my chest chambers, and moving back out with each movement.

And when I was done, the kindly fellow asked me if I'd said the Shema yet, and I hadn't, so he pointed me in the siddur where to go, and I read the Shema and some other things and then we talked about why I haven't been by the rabbi's for Shabbat, how women aren't bound to the Sukkot requirements, etc. And then? I plodded off, listening to the band Beirut, and got some lunch while reading some documents he'd given me about Sukkot, Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah (adorned with the rebbe's likeness and what have you).

When we were talking, and when the ritual was being performed, I couldn't smell or think of anything but the potency of the etrog. Because of it's shape, the etrog (a citron, sorta like a lemon), is said to resemble the heart. It is meant to represent the ideal Jew -- one who has both knowledge of Torah and good deeds, as the etrog is both pleasant in taste and in smell.

And, perhaps, when I felt that thump in my heart as I brought the etrog and lulav toward me, I was longing to be that ideal Jew, the one with a balance of Torah and deeds. The Jew I am in my dreams of Hasidic teachings and the Jew who will daven.

Forward I go, and with that -- Chag Sameach!

Sick and Not in the Sukkah.

Well, I hope your Sukkot is going better than mine. I've been sick essentially since I woke up Sunday in a beautiful house hidden away in the Poconos. By late Sunday and early Monday, I was practically comatose. I didn't go to Hebrew class, and I spent most of Monday and Tuesday in bed, schluffing around in my comfy pants and going through boxes of Kleenex. But now? I'm feeling quite a bit better, as my illin' has been relegated mostly to utter congestion and some minor issues of breathing.

But the days of sickness gave me a lot of time to read, and read I have. About what? The golden calf of course! It's interesting how many random roads I've trekked down thanks to my recently heightened research. For example, there was a period of time where the golden calf episode wasn't mentioned in synagogues in Israel (we're talking way, way back in the day, like 2nd century CE) -- known as a "tradition of concealment." I can't seem to find much on it, though. Then there are three writers who "rewrote" the incident in their own unique ways, the two well-known among them being Philo and Josephus. The former brushed around the incident of idolatry, because to him the purpose of the incident was to emphasize the choosing of the Levites as the auxiliary priesthood. The latter, Josephus, bypassed the entire episode in his writing -- why? Probably because of the anti-Jewish mockery by writers of the time. Josephus likely wanted to keep his gentile readers from getting certain "impressions" about Jews and animal worship. Then there are all these avenues of thought about how the incident wasn't a violation of the first commandment, but rather just of the second since it was creating an image/likeness of what is on "the earth below," but that it was meant either as G-d or Moses, but either way the people weren't replacing G-d, but rather were worshiping ... well ... that's a whole other story.

Anyway, I'm getting excited. I just need to ORGANIZE my thoughts. We'll see how I feel after our grad student meeting tomorrow when we reveal where our research is taking us.

I hope you all are enjoy Sukkos, and I'm stoked for Simchat Torah :)

Getting Ready to SHAKE it!

What an interesting weekend I had down in the Poconos with Evan. We saw a bear by the side of the road in the community, not to mention wild turkeys wandering around someone's driveway. We stopped at a most magnificent waterfall (which you see pictured here and which you can see more of over on my Flickr ), and we spent most of one day this weekend at a flea market/craft fair/harvest festival where I procured some delicious jams/spreads from some nice Quaker girls (who had a yummy-looking loaf of challah that I resisted buying).

The weekend was all around beautiful and relaxing, and the services at the shul in the community were, well, interesting. I got nothing spiritually from them, but they were amusing in that the chazzan was funny and had some interesting things to say (he even brought up "Mallrats," which no one seemed to know about except the chazzan, Evan and I). But there was probably a 40-50 year age gap between us and the rest of the people there, though there was a mighty showing, it being an older community. They used the old -- we're talking the ORIGINAL -- Reform siddur, which made me want to cry, but the building was beautiful and the company was nice and the chazzan was plenty friendly. We will probably go back, I just have to figure out a way to do my prayers on my own. I think it's time to suck it up and buy myself that transliterated Artscroll so I can daven solo-style.

At any rate, the sukkah is up in the grad courtyard and we did some l'chaims earlier to celebrate it's construction. It's incredibly tall and was purchased from PopUpSukkah.com, but it'll get the job done for what we need. I spent the afternoon mulling about with the Chabad rabbi's youngest boy (age 2-ish) who ... wow ... I want 10 just like him. I can't understand a word he said, but we were looking at water in a drain pipe and watching planes dart across the sky leaving smokey skies behind. I got him to start saying "bye bye! bye bye!" while waving frantically and it was seriously the cutest thing I have ever seen. So tomorrow evening begins Sukkot -- also known as Sukkos or the Feast of Tabernacles/Booths -- and I'll be spending my time probably at the Chabad rabbi's place for dinner and services on Tuesday morning since I'm not sure what Hillel is doing and I can't seem to get enough of the wee one (and the older one calls me Chava and Ahava, which amuses me but I'm down with it cuz he's cool).

So with Sukkot approaching, I implore everyone to quickly get a copy of Ushpizin (one of my most FAVORITE MOVIES) and watch it with joy. It is THE Sukkot movie, and if you haven't seen it, you're really missing out.

This will be my first "observant" Sukkot ... and I'm stoked. I'm ready to get my shake on -- are you? The only thing is, I've never done the shakin' before and I don't know the rules and regulations ... good thing I found this video! (Not!)







Moadim l'simcha!

Did I vanish?

No, I didn't vanish. I've been busy with work, Yom Kippur, being sick, getting well and analyzing my career/life path for the not-so-distant future. There's thoughts of grad school being tossed around this noggin (Baltimore Hebrew University, that is), in addition to all the other stuff that consumes me in all my free time. I figured it up that out of the 168 hours in the week, I have about 70 of those where I am neither sleeping nor working to just sit and be completely, absolutely worthless. So I purchased two books today.

1) Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer: I checked this book out from UNL's library shortly after it was released, but with all my reading and efforts to finish my senior thesis and graduate, I didn't have time to read it. Thus I didn't really enjoy it, especially after getting through Everything is Illuminated -- possibly one of the best books I have ever read. It was absolutely magnificent, so getting into ELIC was sort of hard. Summary: It's about a little boy whose father dies in the WTC during 9/11, complete with mini "flip book" of man falling from the WTC (sort of horrifying).
2) Fabulous Small Jews by Joseph Epstein: I believe I read a review of this in Commentary magazine. It was either that or in one of my other Jewish rags. Summary: It's a collection of short stories by a man who has written for the New Yorker, Harper's, Atlantic Monthly and has a NYT bestseller called Snobbery.

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Today was the start of Sukkot. I've decided that when I get married and have children I'll be building my own sukkah, no matter how wacky the neighbors think I am. Now what, you ask, is a sukkah? Well, this cute little Popsicle sukkah is the best example of a sukkah that I have for you. Sukkot means "booths" and is a festival of the booths in honor of the harvest. It's a four-sided little hut with three vertical walls and a ceiling that cannot be made solid, which means that you must be able to sit in the sukkah and peer into the heavens and see the stars. Some people use latticework to create the sukkah ceiling, then covering it with leaves. It's a 7 or 8 day holiday that includes lots of feasting and hanging out in the sukkah. I'm sort of glad I don't have a sukkah right now, though, as it's cold and rainy in D.C. -- definitely NOT sukkah weather unless you have a sukkah space heater and some umbrellas. The final day of sukkot is Shemini Atzeret and soon after is Simchat Torah -- a stellar holiday that finalizes the reading of the Torah for the year, which sends you back to Genesis to start all over again (Jews cycle through the whole Torah each year, though some Conservatives and Orthodox take 3 years to read the whole Torah -- that is, they read only PORTIONS of each Torah section and spend 3 years completely getting through the Torah, though they still celebrate the beginning-to-end of Simchat Torah).

Sukkot also includes the use of the Four Species -- lalav, hadass, etrog and araveh -- which are used during prayers and also adorn the sukkah (it's part of the whole harvest thing). Of course there's biblical precedence for this: "And you shall take for yourself on the first day the fruit of goodly (meaning of Hebrew uncertain, but modern Hebrew "citrus") trees, branches of palm trees, and boughs of thick trees, and willows of the brook" (Lev. 23:40).

Essentially the holiday is a reminder of the travails and travels in the desert (for 40 gall darn years) before entering the land. You eat in the sukkah, call it home and hang out in thanks for G-d's protection during the wandering. Who WOULDN'T want a sukkah, eh?