It’s a Small World

Imagine a house in the middle of Israel, the tantalizing smell of exotic spices, a massive dog and the twinkling of candles. Around the table are three different nationalities of people and three different conversations going full swing. The table is heavy with food, and most of the men have trouble with their kippahs falling off when they move their heads too vigorously. The host is expansive, welcoming and his eyes are filled with laughter. The dog circles around and under the table, resting his head on first one lap, then another. Christians and Jews, Ukrainian’s, Israeli’s and Americans, eating Shabbat Supper together. It was one of the best things we’ve ever done. We were nervous ahead of time, and were wondering how we got ourselves into this kind of situations, but it was 120% worth any bit of prior unease.

Dr Lena’s son is married to a Jewish woman named Morena. It was at her parent’s home where the meal took place. They invited us three to come early and go to the Synagogue with them at 5:00, and then back to their house for supper at 7:15. Or we could come at 5:30. Or whenever. We rolled up to their house at 5:15 and were warmly welcomed by Nurit, the mom of the family. She could speak beautiful English, so that was one worry we could ditch. She hailed a man walking past and asked him to take us to the synagogue, which he cheerfully did. It was a small synagogue and the Jews there originated from Yemen. So for all DNA purposes they were Arabs, which is exactly how they acted. Warm, welcoming, and with a rich sense of humor.

I was ushered into the woman’s quarters, and the men headed into the main part. There was a bit of a kippah scramble, with Nurit running home to fetch one for Heath.

And so the service commenced. Of course we couldn’t understand, but the reading, chanting, singing and discussions were still enormously interesting. The men would take turns leading the chants, with the leader saying something and then everyone else would chime in with great fervor. To be honest, it sounded alot like Muslim prayer calls. The same sort of sing song, wavering chants. We stood when they stood, and sat when they sat. Sometimes a bit delayed, but better late than never.

When the last wavering notes died away, we all headed out the door, wishing those around us “Shabbat Shalom”! Our host, Asher, met us at the synagogue door and we walked back to his house together.

The house smelled of delights to come, and as we waited the hour or so for the meal, we sat in the living room, drank hot tea and got to know each other. A young man relative joined us and he couldn’t speak a lot of English but he knew the word “container”. For some reason it struck Asher as horrible funny that he could only say container, and a lot of good natured ribbing ensued. Eventually Alex, his beautiful wife Morena and their enormous dog Chief blew in, followed closely by Lena. Let the party commence!

The table was loaded with small dishes of salads, pickles, and other similar things, the Challah Bread was sitting under its cloth and the wine was ready to pour and pass. These were not orthodox jews, the women didn’t cover their heads, and the men didn’t have the locks of hair, or even much for beards. We surrounded a table, and I’m assuming Asher sang a blessing or told a story. It was long, musical, and punctuated with big grins and twinkling eyes. The rest sang along, or not, as they saw fit. We beamed. When that was done, maybe 10 minutes later, Asher poured the wine into the cup and took a drink. He then passed it to the next oldest male, Heath, and so on, oldest to youngest and then the women did the same. I thought the wine tasted great, but Nurit shuddered and made a horrible face.

Asher cut the Challah bread, and dolled it out crumbly piece by crumbly piece. It was all hugely informal and jolly and when Chief did a loud bark during one prayer everyone laughed and said “even Chief says amen”! Asher had made some incredible Moroccan fish that was dished up next, and we all dug into the wide variety of salads spread across the table in little dishes. It. Was. Fabulous.

When that started winding down, our first plates were cleared and we started in on the second course. This one had rice, chicken and beef plus more stuff. Again we ate and ate. And talked and talked. The family told hilarious vacation stories, Alex was given a fierce hard time cause apparently he likes dragging them on long hikes that they hate. Even through the SNOW, last Christmas in Poland. He had promised them a beautiful lake at the end, so they struggled on for 8km, only to find the lake frozen solid. They were totally wiped by that time, so elected to take the horse and buggy option back to the hotel. That’s all fine and romantic but the horse had pooped and pooped all the way back, right in their faces. Then the driver would scoop it up and plop it into a plastic bag, so not only was it hard on the nose, it was hard on the eyes! Nurit easily harked back to that time, holding her nose, pinching her eyes shut and telling the story in a boisterous voice.

All the food had been cooked prior to sundown and the beginning of Shabbat, so all preparations had been cleaned up before we got there. Morena and Nurit washed the plates as they cleared them, and I was amazed how efficient such a complex meal seemed to be! Quite of bit of the tableware, even serving dishes, were disposable, and we only had forks, so that cut way down on the work as well. They really do have it down pat how to rest on Shabbat.

And then it was time for dessert and tea. Platters of cakes and pastries were brought out, along with fruits, nuts and popcorn. Unbelievable. Morena is a Cross Fit Trainer, and Alex joked that they train to eat. Apparently they eat this well every Friday. I simply cannot imagine how big I would be, but maybe it would get so normal you wouldn’t feel compelled to try every slapping thing. New food is just so fun! The lone relative obviously collapsed under the weight of the feast, cause he straggled over to the living room to take a substantial nap that included one very loud snore. Chief went to sleep too, since obviously the eating was over and hence the window of opportunity. When the guy woke up and joined us again, he was greeted with wild and cheerful “Boker Tov’s” which means good morning. We kept chatting, and were absolutely shocked to see it was nearing 10pm when Lena wondered if we should leave. Asher suggested we rather just stay and take turns sleeping on the couch all night, and that seemed good to me! But all good things must come to an end, and with great well wishes, promises of future meetings and thank you’s, we tore ourselves away.

Below is a list of the foods we remember seeing on the table, and of course, eating.

• Beets
• Shredded Carrot Salad
• Potato Salad
• Dill and corn salad
• Roasted sweet potatoes
• Baba ganoush
• Mixed pickles
• Lettuce cucumber salad
• Challah bread
• Wine
• Yemen roasted chicken and potatoes
• Chicken schnitzel
• Meatballs
• Moroccan Fish
• Cooked cabbage in tomato sauce
• Rice
• Carrot cake
• Ruglah
• Baked sweets
• Chocolate swirl cake
• Fruit platter with apples, strawberries, pears, kiwi, and oranges
• Sunflower seeds
• Nut and date platter
• Popcorn
• Coke
• Lemonade
• Juice
• Cognac
• Sparkling water
• Hot Tea

Quite impressive just reading it. Never-mind cooking and eating it. And not just annually, weekly!

And so our time in Israel came to a roaring close. We’re now landing in Athens, en route to Cairo. Goodness knows what we’ll all encounter there!