day 200 - Wednesday December 7, 2011 - Angry about Money

Bill Moritz was studying with his new partner when I got to Hillel this morning at 7:25. Patricia drove me, so I got there early. A book caught my attention. It is part of a collection, Maoz?, a commentary on the bible, ten maybe fifteen volumes? It was on the bookshelf next to where I sat down. I looked through three volumes until I found this week’s portion: Vaishlach. “And Jacob sent messengers before him to Esau his brother unto the land of Seir, the field of Edom.“ Just on this one sentence there are three pages written. I do not know how many pages on the whole portion. The commentary was written in the late 1700, maybe early 1800. Esau and his descendants represent the gentiles. The text thus teaches how to deal with non-Jews. It says: with respect. Not with violence because they are weak, but with diplomacy. Bring them gifts. Jacob after all had himself introduced to Esau as “thy servant Jacob.“

This morning I woke up thinking about how I cheated myself out of a bigger salary by not complaining and asking what I actually deserved. I did not do it because at the time I felt that my job was in extreme danger. Was it? Who knows? My boss and the whole division were dismantled. But I am a Penn graduate. And had a good relationship with the Dean of Engineering. That would have helped me stay afloat. Angry with myself, angry I am.

Tuesday October 4, 2011 - remorse

.... for not having posted since. And ... we are in the midst of the days of awe, between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Time to redeem myself. In any case, I managed to say Kaddish almost every day since the last posting, once a day. School is now in full swing. The intimacy of the small room on Pine Street's Chabad house has been replaced by the large impersonal third floor large prayer room at Hillel. There are now over 25 young men and some women as well, every morning. It is hard for me to find a seat if I am not early, which I never am. They all daven, hardly any play/study/camaraderie afterwards, at least toward me.

I am surprised that now I know some of these guys for over three months and have not developed a relationship with any of them. They regard me as an outsider, who comes clumsily there to say Kadish. It runs counter to the embracing style of Judaism I am familiar with, the one I experience at my reform synagogue, They do not daven everyday, but they make you feel at home when you are there.

Friday, August 12 2011

Yesterday things changed. Sam, a young fellow who started coming in July, is now Gabai. Sam is very tall and slender. His clothes hang from him as if from a hook on the wall. He smiles frequently and spent a semester in Buenos Aires. He speaks to me in Spanish with an Argentinean-American accent. It is very peculiar. We talked back in July and he explained to me that he was not very up-to-date on the various aspects of prayer becasue he only recently became religious, Choser Ve-Tshuvah ("one who returns in response" to an inner calling, I suppose). Ben , the normal Gabai, is not here. No one told me why, I believe he must be on vacation.

I did nto go today for two reasons. First I am going tonight to Rodeph Shalom, and second Sam did a pol of hands yesterday to see who was coming today and it became clear there would not be a Mynian.

I realize I never described the setting of the services at Chabad. The building is a formerly elegant summer house from the 1800s, painted white. It is though in an overall shabby, abandoned condition. It has a neglected front yard, with a white stone staircase going up to the first floor landing. A sturdy fence, maybe 4 feet tall, made of black metal seperates the front yard form the sidewalk. Below the fence, on the outside, is a narrow strip of dirt where some weeds have sprouted. The strip has a very low fence, maybe a quarter of a foot tall, made of meshed wire that ties onto metal posts dug into the dirt. This small fence is rusted and hangs loose at various places. I know because I park my bike on the narrow strip. I lift the bike over the little meshed wire and I hook its handrails to the black fence so that my wheel is close enough to it to be able to use my Kryptoite lock to secure the bike. I have many times stumbled on the handing meshed wire and once almost stabbed my self with the protruding supporting post.

Wednesday August 10, 2011

I am starting to be able to read the prayers as fast as the leader. Actually, I think the leader skips passage, especially Peter. There is no way, for example, that he can read the "Wednesday Day of the Wee" psalms in 45 seconds!

August 3, 2011 - Wednesday

The time for the morning service was changed to 7:45 so that more undergrads could come. I still arrived 10 minutes late, which goes to prove my lateness has nothing to do with the service being too early. It is an inner clock deficiency.

I have to recount a discomforting event. Last Friday, having skipped morning services, I decided to make up by going to Minchah and Maariv. Services were at Hillel. I arrived promptly at 8pm. Thunderstorms were breaking up the afternoon. It was hot and humid. The rain, a blessing. I was wearing shorts and a shirt, as usual. As I entered the third floor space I immediately realized my mistake. Everyone was dressed up. Two of the guys I knew from the morning services were there. I liked neither. Something about their faces. They both looked like they were smelling shit all the time. One of them just had had a baby. In any case, the blond one was in a suit, the other one wore long black pants and a white shirt. They looked at me with contempt and ... proceeded to ignore me. OK, I was under-dressed, but hey, it was a mistake. My first time there. What schmocks!!! Well, the service went on, itvwas lovely. Voices raised in unison, un-rehearsed. The women's voices provided a sweet counterpoint, weaving in and out tour melody. Others came by, greeted me. I thought maybe I could pass unnoticed. But lo and behold I was the ONLY one saying Kaddish. The two redeemed themselves by guiding me and indicating when it was my turn to say Kaddish. As soon as the service ended, I slipped out. Hopefully unnoticed!.... not

July 29, 2011 Friday

I was very tired today and decided to skip morning services since we will be attending Shabbat services at Rodeph Shalom and I will have a chance to say Kaddish then. Technically, the services are for Maariv (night services) and should count toward tomorrow, not today. But since -typical for reform, and this I do not like- RS's services are 6pm to 7pm; before sundown. So the Kaddish counts toward today, not tomorrow. Anyway ... I skipped. At peace with saying Kaddish tonight? Yes! But... what I did not expect was the feeling of guilt at letting down my Kehila (group/congergation) at Chabad Penn. Without Lucas and me there would have been only eight men yesterday. So today, it could happen that they do not make Mynian. I also felt guilty about having to ask Lucas again if I went. I tossed and turned in bed and by the time I realized the guilt was eating at me it was already 7:30 and too late to get there. What surprised me about this is the selflessness: I was concerned about them not having a Mynian; not about me. That is a giant step for me!!!

July 28, 2011

Chabad at Penn House - Pine St.

Lucas and I drove Elias to the airport at 5am and went back to sleep at 5:45, I had set up my iPod alarm for 6:45, still undecided about attending morning services. The alarm woke me up twice. It was 7am by the time I got out of bed and decide to make a run for it. The warm summer breeze caressed me as I rode my bike. I took the longer way (adds 1 minute) through Clark Park because staying on Baltimore Av. for the second block of the up-slope form 43rd St. (the block from 42nd to 41st) really tires me out. More so after yesterday's 6 hour hike in the Poconos. I got there at 7:30. To0day is Torah day; I can arrive late and still say Kaddish. A surprise expected me on the steps of the house. Peter, with his Tallit and Tefillim on, exclaimed "Thomas is here." A smile fleetingly appeared, only to be follow by a languid face. "we are only nine; can you get your son?" Poor Lucas, went to bed at 2:30am, got up at 5am to drive Elias to the airport and now I was going to wake him up at 7:30. "there is a woman here that came to say Kaddish. She in the Shloshim" The first thirty days of mourning are very important. Lucas did not answer. I called Patricia asked her to see if Lucas would come and if she could drive him, bringing his bike as well. She roamed the house looking or Lucas. "There are two persons in his room sleeping face down on the floor. I can't find him".... let me see if he is in the family room....it must be one of those two... " some moaning “once is fine, but twice is too much ..." I hear him complaining. "He is coming" said Patricia. Seven minutes later he gets out of the van completely asleep. “We saved the day!!!"