Seattle 2, or CHESED!

I just spent my first Shabbat in Seattle with the Jews of the Ravenna Kibbutz. I've been telling everyone that they're a Moishe House, but this isn't true. The Kibbutz was there long before it adopted Moishe House status, and has a much broader scope of programming and focus than do the Moishe Houses.

Here is the first image I want you to get: after getting off the bus, I have about a fifteen minute walk to find the Kibbutz. The sun is just beginning to go down, and the light is catching every window and tree. It's cool enough to walk briskly, but I'm warm. I'm walking - no, striding - through a neighborhood of wide sidewalks, large, arching trees, houses of many shapes and colors. I see people with dogs, a gray-haired man playing catch with a young boy, the unmistakable thwap of ball hitting glove. There are gardens, already in bloom. About halfway through the walk, I think, "If only some ridiculously triumphant song were to play right about now, this would be the greatest cliche in the world."

And, as though some god were chuckling at my thoughts, Bruce Springsteen's "Born In the USA" comes pounding through my headphones.

Enjoy that. I did.

Dinner and Shabbat were just as golden. Dinner was a thick vegetable soup and lasagna, salad I helped make in their little kitchen. Everyone talked loudly, like Jews, marveled at the fact I'd landed less than 24 hours before finding them, urged more food around the table. We sang three different tunes to Shalom Aleichem, including my favorite Smith Hillel tune. There were jokes, stories, advice, prayers, thanks.

(this paragraph is mostly for the benefit Smith-affiliated people)

I led benching, loud and raucous, from the same old blue B'Kol Echad benchers I learned on at BCHSJS and Smith. They even knew "the man in the moon" song, Sparrow!! I threw in every joke, every additional line, and one guy matched me for each one: "rachamim" became "sour cream", and "asher asher bara" became "I swear I saw your bra", and of course, the controversial "l'olam va'ed/l'olam drop dead". Joel, one of the organizers, went into spasms of laughter when he saw my hand motions for "rohhhheinu" and nobody noticed me shout "CHESED!", but I did.

And then I taught them the version of Lo Yisa Goy I learned in college, and lo and behold, a good fistful of them can sing and harmonize! I, for once in my life, got to sing the Tzur Mishelo part. And then they invited me to a Sing-Along Shabbat, some unscheduled time in the future.

And slowly, the pieces start to come together...(now, if only that little nagging employment/housing thing would fall into place.)