I feel like everything I’ve eaten in the last several days is sitting in my stomach in one sodden, undigested lump. If my gastrointestinal tract were a toilet, it would be clogged at the U-bend right now.
Apparently my body’s not taking to this vegan+fish diet regime very well…
Have I mentioned that food is a particular weakness of mine? (This is why I’m portly instead of puny.) Keeping kosher outside the home is going to be a big struggle for me, I can tell, because bastard smell molecules waft into the air like they own the place and make me hungry for things. Today it was fries with gravy. These may be the last fries with gravy I eat, given that I don’t have a deep-fryer and you can’t get decent fries in Israel unless an Arab makes them (Israelis seem to think cold, soggy fries are tasty, for some inexplicable reason; I blame knee-jerk rejectionism of anything British), and I’ve never seen fries with gravy available in Israel anywhere.
Which sucks, because they were bad fries with gravy, really. But as long as I keep working here, and I keep having to go into the staff cafeteria to get cutlery to eat lunch (I’m fairly ideologically opposed to using plastic cutlery on the regular), this is going to keep happening. I guess I’m going to have to start carrying cutlery back and forth with me in my work bag. And hoping that rogue smells don’t ambush me.
So, in my last post, which constitutes my ignominious return to conversion-blogging after months, I mentioned that we’ve been studying kashrut. This presents me with a bit of a problem, logistically speaking. Let me break it down (it’s already pretty broken) for you.
One: I live in a small house — a very small house — which I share with a friend. We’re friends, but we’re not what you would call cozy.
Two: The kitchen in my small house is a retrofit; I’m not sure exactly what renovations were done when, but whoever put the existing (I hesitate to call it “new,” because it’s so totally not) kitchen in sort of knew what all the parts of a kitchen should be, but had obviously never actually cooked in one before. So that means the fridge is stuck in a tiny alcove between my office door and the bathroom door, there is about a grand total of three square feet of usable countertop space, there is only one sink (crammed between the window and the door down to the basement), and storage space otherwise is at a serious premium. Sinks are also a particular kosher issue, because if the sink is treif, as mine would necessarily be, I can’t soak dishes in it, nor wash them in a sinkful of water without a plastic sink liner (which I would store where?). And I don’t — obviously — have the counter space to leave soaking pots all over. I’m a walking disaster area; I do burn food on the regular.
Three: Snce I share a house with an unrelated person, and we don’t really share food, we each need separate food storage as it is.
Four: I still haven’t moved closer to the shul, which means I still live quite a ways away from any of the stores in town that sell kosher meat products. (Just eating dairy or fish is not an option for me, especially since I don’t like fish that much.)
Five: I don’t drive.
Six: I’m mildly physically handicapped and deal with fatigue issues, which means I don’t necessarily have the energy/ability to cook from scratch every day. There is no kosher restaurant in town.
Seven: I do not own a chest freezer, not even a small one.
Eight: While I’m once again gainfully employed, I’m on a three-month contract which ends at the end of July. I therefore have no guaranteed income past the end of July, and no guarantee I’ll easily be able to find another job after this one.
Nine: Even if I did find another job right after this one, there’s no guarantee it would be in this city. Many of the jobs in my field are either in the Waterloo region or the Greater Toronto Area.
Ten: Rental agreements in my town tend to be twelve-month leases.
Conclusion: From the way it looks right now, I’d be really stupid to try to move right now, particularly since I’ll find out whether or not $Current_Employer will extend/re-up my contract within about six weeks.
Unfortunately, my rabbi, whom I like very much and want to please, thinks I should start keeping much closer to “real kosher” like now, including using separate stove burners, plates, glasses, and utensils to my housemate, and buying kosher-slaughtered meat. While I genuinely do want to do this mitzvah, and intend to do it to my utmost once I can, I honestly don’t see how I can pull it off without moving house. I simply don’t have the room or the energy to try to maintain essentially a whole separate second kitchen in the already-overcrowded space allotted to the first one, and I don’t have the storage space to store frozen cooked meals for those days when I can’t cook/am not safe with a knife, etc.
And while I do actually want to move eventually, and was actually beginning the process of looking for a house to buy in the neighbourhood sort of equidistant between my grandma’s house and the shul (two! two! two mitzvot in one!) before I got restructured out of my last job…
…six weeks before my yea-or-nay date on a three-month (to start?) contract is not precisely the time, I think, to be contemplating committing to a year lease, especially since I’ve been here so long I rent month to month.
I know the rabbi would say that I should just organise my life around doing the mitzvot and HaShem will take care of the rest, but I’m much more of a “trust in G-d but tie your camel” kind of person (if I may borrow from the Islamic world for a sec), to be honest. And I’m sure this is going to delay my first meeting with the Beit Din, which was supposed to happen right after Pesach, but I don’t mind. One thing I am sure of is that these things will happen on HaShem’s time, not mine.
Boy. So much has happened since January. I’ve nearly completed apparently all of my rabbi’s conversion course curriculum (already?!) — we are just finishing kashrut now and we’ll be moving on to Shabbat shortly, probably, which is bringing with it its own set of challenges and problems…not least of which is that I only just got another job about a month ago, and it’s only a contract job (at least it’s still here in town), and my contract is up in August, so I’m — still — reluctant to move closer to the shul…
I did my first holidays “on the books,” as it were — Ta’anit Esther (the Fast of Esther) and Purim.
I discovered that I like sweet(ened) Concord wine. I may be the only person in the world who likes “yayin patish,” but to me it tastes like what wine should taste like, that is, alcoholic grape juice, instead of, say, chewing on a teabag. (I don’t like tanniny flavours.)
I SURVIVED PESACH! This is not as uncomplicated as it sounds, as the rabbi wanted me to make a “dry run” at kashering my kitchen, and I can’t eat dairy products, so giving up pretty much all grain products (chametz) as well as pulses (legumes and seeds) and rice (kitniyot) on top of my already not eating dairy products, and I was in a world of hurt. Then I came down with bronchitis in the wee hours after my very first seder, resulting in my making the decision to break Shabbat in a big way and go to the hospital, because I wasn’t breathing well. The lack of oxygen in my system meant approximately zero energy, and an unwillingness to cook much of the lovely meats and vegetables I’d laid in to tide me over. Net result, I lost several pounds in the most unhealthy way possible. Let’s not do that again this year…
On the upside, I think I’m doing relatively well. I hope. As my friend RH reminds me, in a timely manner, practice matters.
When I left for shul, the weather was clear and cold. By midway through the service, it was snowing hard. By the end, it was freezing rain mixed with sleet. I think the weather people quaintly call that “wintry mix,” which sounds like some kind of candy you buy at the Bulk Barn.
The rebbetzin invited me to come to lunch again, which was nice. Vegan food — I’m not sure they eat much meat, although I’ve seen them eat fish. I skipped the pareve chulent, as I’ve discovered that chulent really isn’t my thing.
In conversation I discovered something that might cause me some problems down the road. A lot of these people apparently just avoid most green leafy vegetables for fear that there might be insects in them. The rabbi says they’re hard to check properly. (I have eaten parsley and spring mix in Israel, so they can’t be that difficult.) This is an issue for me, because I really like a lot of those things, with the exception of many of the brassicas, which are often bitter. LZ related that her mother used to soak romaine lettuce in salt water for three days before she’d eat it. I’m really wondering how romaine lettuce soaked for three days in salt water is edible at all…
I guess I’m just going to have to ask him to give me a really thorough tutorial on how to check vegetables, although I have never seen an insect on those kinds of vegetables. Found one in a cauliflower once, though — I removed it and a section of the cauliflower it was in. And when I see spitbugs on my mint plants in the garden, I remove them with extreme prejudice. I actually worry more about cupboard weevils than thrips or aphids in my green veg. (And, speak of the devil, see his horns, I found some in some pasta last night. Time to KILL THE PANTRY CUPBOARD WITH FIRE.)
And yes, I look. News for Jews — goys aren’t too fond of eating bugs generally, either, the existence of chocolate-covered ants notwithstanding. (Ew.)
Anyway, I think this could be a problem, but we’ll burn that village when we come to it.
Recap of my first lesson coming up!
I’m getting very distracted by thoughts of eating ALL THE THINGS.
This is what I feel like doing now.
Converting to Judaism can be an expensive proposition. There are a lot of items you’d probably need, along with the textbooks, which tend to be on the expensive side (because textbooks always are, and textbooks for a tiny niche market more so). If you’re adhering to Jewish concepts of modesty in dress (tzniut), you may also need some new clothes, although there are ways of repurposing things you already own.
This post is intended to be a non-exhaustive list of things you might have to purchase or otherwise obtain. (I by no means have all of these things, not all of them are strictly necessary for everyone, and nobody is suggesting that you need to get all of these at once.)
Books
Your curricular books, as recommended by your rabbi
A siddur (prayerbook)
A chumash
A TaNaKH in book form
A bentsher or several (in case you have guests). The standard Orthodox one is the NCSY.
Haggadot for Passover
Clothing
Long skirts (knee-length or longer, depending on your community standards) for women
At least one kippah for men (I presume most men have several so they can change them out and clean/launder them periodically), and a clip to go with it, assuming one has hair
Shirts with sleeves that go to or past the elbows (depending on your community standards)
Camisoles (women) for repurposing shirts with necklines that are too low
Shell tops (women) for repurposing sleeveless dresses etc.
Sleeve extenders (women) for repurposing shirts with too-short sleeves
A nice outfit (or two) for wearing to shul
Comfortable nice shoes for wearing to shul (heels not recommended and not commonly worn in Orthodox circles due to walking to shul and much standing during services, also for tzniut reasons)
A repertoire of collared shirts (men and women); men may wish to avoid white shirts for semiotic reasons
Legwear for under skirts (I can’t wear nylons due to an allergy, so I favour plain-coloured tall socks, or cotton tights in the winter — NB: Some rabbis do not permit women to wear tights under skirts, but given the climate here, there’d be riots.)
Plain white underwear for wearing at certain times in the month (women, not sure if this is strictly required, but strongly recommended by some authorities)
Tefillin (phylacteries) for men (in Orthodox circles, women don’t wear these)
Tallit (prayer shawl) for men (in Orthodox circles, women also don’t wear these)
Tallit katan (arba kanfes, four-cornered garment) for men (most non-Orthodox Jews don’t wear these, and some Orthodox Jews don’t either, as they attach tzitzit directly to their shirts), or kosher tzitzit
Non-leather shoes (for wearing on Yom Kippur) — many Jews also wear white
A kittel (mostly married men, non-Orthodox men generally don’t wear these as far as I know)
Religious Articles
Mezuzot for every doorway in your home (consult with your rabbi as to what constitutes a “doorway”), save the bathroom
A kiddush cup for Shabbat
A Hanukiah (menorah) and candles or kosher oil to go in it
A seder plate for Pesach
Candlesticks for Shabbat and chagim
Shabbat candles
Havdalah candles
A besamim box (for storing spices that you smell during the Havdalah ceremony that ends Shabbat)
Candlesticks for Shabbat candles
Havdalah candles (braided wicks)
Challah cover
Honey pot for Rosh Hashana
Matzo trays and covers for Passover
A ritual handwashing cup (natla)
Building materials and decorations for a sukkah (not required for single women)
Kitchen Goods
Dishes and cutlery for meat and dairy, and Pesach meat and dairy (you can kasher certain types of dishes for Pesach, but not others; consult your rabbi)
A double sink, or dishwashing basins for meat and dairy
Dishwasher racks for meat and dairy
Dish-drying racks for meat and dairy
Pots and pans for meat and dairy (you may be able to use the pots and pans you already have for one or the other, although some pots and pans cannot be kashered; consult your rabbi)
Kitchen utensils for meat and dairy
Knives for meat, dairy, pareve, and preferably a dedicated bread knife
Glass drinking vessels (under the laws of kashrut, glass is non-porous and does not absorb “taste” from food that might touch it by way of your mouth, so can be used with both; some stringent kosher-keeping Jews keep meat and dairy glasses)
Plenty of clean tea-towels for drying hands after netilat yadaim and for drying dishes
Tablecloth for Shabbat
Tablecloth to differentiate meat meals from dairy meals
A dish brush for washing dishes (if necessary) on Shabbat
A Shabbat food-warmer or blech
An urn for hot water for Shabbat (for making tea/coffee, etc.)
Other Household Goods
Separable beds (if married), plus sufficient bed linens to cover at minimum 12 days
Clean hand towels for netilat yadayim
A blowtorch (for kashering certain items with heat)
Plastic covers for isolating kitchen counters or shelves, such as for Pesach
I didn’t go to shul again this week. I must stop making a habit of this. But when I woke up Saturday morning when my “MC Hammer” alarm (“can’t touch this!”) went off, I promptly fell back asleep for about 40 minutes, and then got up and tried valiantly to scramble to get ready. After I realised it had taken me another 40 minutes just to put on underwear, socks, a dress, and a scarf (hardly master’s level dressing acumen there!), I figured I was too late to make it even by Orthodox shul standards (which is to say people sort of filter in in dribs and drabs, and the starting time is more of a suggestion than a commandment), so I packed it in and went back to bed.
Later on, I read the Shabbat Shacharit to myself, though, and spent a goodly portion of the day finishing up the last few pages of Vol. ד (IV) of The 39 Melochos, which went well. I actually managed to make it through “the witching hour” by virtue of a long nap after lunch and getting up to go for a fairly long walk around 5PM, and then having another long nap, and then having a conversation with my housemate.
All in all, it was a pretty good Shabbat, even if the Sabbath Queen is clucking her tongue over my lack of housekeeping skills.
I still have to work on remembering to say the brachot when I eat, and I need to get a portable copy of Al-Hamihcya because it is quite lengthy and my ability to memorise Hebrew is limited. Weird thing about the brachot is, I will often think, “Okay, I need to say ‘she’hakol nihiyeh bidavro‘ with this,” and then not actually say it in two minutes, when I finish heating it up, or washing my hands or whatever. My brain. I don’t understand it. *sigh* With luck, this will improve once I actually start getting some training on the subject.
(Half a loaf? At least now I think of it, if not actually do it?)
You will need:
1 kg chicken pieces (I like skin-on, boneless breasts)
1 large onion
2 large carrots
2 stalks celery
2 bay leaves
4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 handful minced parsley
1 handful chopped dill (for that authentic Ashkenazi flavour)
1 tbsp deli kosher mustard
2 tbsp white vinegar
1 overly-clingy kitten
1. Buy the ingredients.
2. Put the grocery bags containing the ingredients in a high place where the kitten can’t get at them.
3. Rescue a fragment of an entirely other forgotten grocery bag out of the kitten’s mouth.
4. Get nervous about cleaning the litter box, vet bills, and the phrase “garbage gastritis” all at the same time.
5. Open the package of chicken pieces.
6. Shoo the kitten off the lid of the kitchen garbage as his nose appears over the edge of the counter.
7. Skin and de-fat the chicken pieces.
8. Repeat step 6 as required.
9. Put the chicken pieces in a large pot, and fill with water, and put it on high on the burner.
10. Dissuade the kitten from trying to jump onto the stove.
11. Add the garlic, parsley, dill, bay leaves, mustard, and vinegar.
12. Rescue the chicken package from the kitten and put it away where the kitten can’t get it.
13. Chop the celery, onion, and carrot.
14. Add the celery, onion, and carrot.
15. Do not trip on the kitten on your way from the counter to the stove with the cutting board.
16. Simmer soup until the broth is rich and the chicken and vegetables are finished.
17. Finish with salt and freshly ground pepper, and serve.
18. Remove the kitten from the dining table before he drinks all the soup broth.
I had a really good Shabbat yesterday, although kind of an abbreviated one, due to a previously-scheduled social engagement. (Like I said, I’m still furtive.)
I did make it to shul, after a whole series of fashlot which almost convinced me I should stay home, but I managed to get there, only somewhat later than I usually try to arrive. The service was good, and the rabbi talked about mitzvot and “partial mitzvot” during his “insight” this week, based on the story from the parsha of Moses setting aside three cities of refuge on the west bank of the Jordan (Yarden), despite not being required to set up all six cities until the Israelites had conquered the territory to the east of the Yarden. HaShem apparently gives “part-marks.” (That’s a relief! ^_^ )
I must admit that standing for a lot of the service was very hard this week because my back was hurting me.
I am getting to be much better able to follow the service, and read as fast as the rabbi speaks the various prayers and blessings, although it’s still hard. I also still haven’t learnt all the tunes yet, especially since apparently sometimes they use different tunes — this time they used a different tune for Adon Olam, and so far, I only more or less know the version sung here.
I managed to attend for another buffet kiddush, which was nice — I like free food. Once again, I ate probably half my weight in challah (do calories consumed on Shabbat count?), along with some really interesting eggplant-tomato stuff which may or may not have been some variation on zaalouk, three kinds of hummus, and vegetables. I steered clear of the cholent this time, as apparently the local variation includes cinnamon or some spice that I think totally does not go with the rest of the flavours. (Joke spotted on Facebook during the height of military operations recently: “The IDF has respectfully requested that Ashkenazim stop sending food.” Sefardi cuisine, on the other hand, is generally delicious…)
The best moment was probably near the end of the kiddush, when the rabbi started singing some nigun or other and he started dancing (while holding his young son) with two other men in long black coats and long grey beards, and one man in a blue short-sleeved shirt and a crocheted coloured kippah, spinning around each other’s joined hands in a square. Beit Meshugge is a bit of a mixed bag, but in a tiny community like ours, that’s sort of to be expected.
Afterward, my friend M and a woman who was visiting from Jerusalem, the sister of a former congregant, walked back to near where I usually catch the bus (yeah, yeah, I know) through a trail in a park that I didn’t actually know was there. Turns out that by using the system of trails by the river, I could almost walk from there to here without actually having to traverse much distance by road. It’s also much, much shorter, but not so that I could practically walk it, at least not there and back again. On the way, we saw about a million kinds of wildflowers and a Great Blue heron, who was obviously looking for some lunch. (He should have dropped in at the shul; there was pickled herring.)
So. I did not use any electricity, or any hot water (up until I had to get ready to go out), and I finally remembered about the toilet paper. I also did all my cooking and cleaning in advance, so the house looked moderately nice and I had things I could just reheat, which I turned out not to need after all. I did have to reset my Shabbat timer because somehow the time thingy had gotten out of whack, so that counts as touching muktzeh. I also probably committed about a billion unintentional acts of Borer (sorting) while trying to find clean skivvies and socks and things, although I did my best to just sort of rummage through them and draw out the stuff I did want, as opposed to making a “keep” versus “discard” pile or anything. I did light a candle and say the bracha, but I did not do a formal havdalah, as by the time I got home, although it wasn’t late, I was in a lot of pain and very tired and just wanted to crawl into a prescription bottle and go to sleep.
I’m going to have to ask the rabbi about time-bound mitzvot and what I must do, and what I can elect to do, and what I can do bli neder so that if circumstances arise where I feel like I can’t do something, I don’t have to, and also what the rules are about observing time-bound mitzvot when sick or something.
All in all, it was a pretty good Shabbat, despite my not feeling terribly well. Any Shabbat where I can refer to my absolutely canonically Scottish last name and say, “…you know, a good Ashkenazi name,” and have people get the joke, and where I can finish up at motzei by sucking on a slice of avatiach while watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is probably a good one.
marginallyinsane 