This past weekend was Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. In over four decades, this is only the second time I’ve been away from home at this time of year. The first was six years ago. We’d gotten married in late August and took off for an around the world honeymoon, only to find ourselves celebrating the New Year in Berlin, Germany. This time, we’d taken off to escape winter in New York last December, and haven’t yet left San Diego. We found ourselves in this southern California city to ring in the New Year. Although short in length, these two experiences taught me endless lessons. Read the rest of this entry
It was a new synagogue, a Rabbi from Brooklyn and people who spoke in various languages that I can remember. It’s friendly faces, foreign tongues, and seats in a separate section high above those below that flash through my memory on this holiday. The challah tasted just as delicious, the greetings were the same and the kindness palpable when we all entered into the New Year together…in Berlin.
Five years ago, Mathew and I spent Rosh Hashanah in Berlin. It was my first high holiday experience ever spent away from home and the expectations were uncertain. We knew we’d find a way to celebrate, but the outcome was unknown. What transpired is a holiday that won’t soon be forgotten and the feelings of a community with outstretched arms welcoming in weary travelers and locals alike. What we thought would be a ‘Rosh Hashanah in a bag’ travel style celebration became one centered around holiday, a challah hand delivered by a Chabad Rabbi and services in a beautiful temple surrounded by people doing exactly the same thing. Read the rest of this entry