Tag Archives: jewish

Jewish Easter Egg Hunt

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, California
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English
Language: None

“So, in my family, holidays are a big deal, and we are not very religious one way or another, but we do, um, partake in several, I guess, Christian holidays, and Easter is one of the big ones. Um, however, we have this Jewish friend, who, um, had never experienced Easter before, um, and so, she, we decided to invite her to Easter one year so she could experience her first ever Easter and so she came over and um, we did the typical things like dyeing Easter eggs and having Easter dinner. But, we decided to twist our traditions to uh accommodate for her Jewishisms. So she told us about this tradition she used to practice as a child. It’s like this little stale piece of bread, it’s like matzah, and you hide it. She used to do this as a child. It’s called the afikomen. So, yea, I guess it’s a Jewish tradition to hide the matzah and be like, hey, kids, go find the afikomen. And whichever little Jewish lad finds the afikomen gets a reward.

So then, we decided to kind of mix the two traditions because finding an afikomen is very much like finding an Easter egg, so, um, my parents, along with hundreds of Easter eggs, hid an afikomen, and whoever found it got twenty dollars. We, of course, all expected the Jew to find the afikomen, but the first time it was my brother, a non-Jew, who found it. So now we do this every year… we hide an afikomen with the Easter eggs.”

 

The informant’s conflation of two different religions’ traditions is an interesting example of how folkloric traditions can blend together and change. The informant’s family found a common thread between the traditional Christian practice of hunting for hidden eggs on Easter and the traditional Jewish practice of hiding and finding a piece of matzah on Passover. In an effort to make their Jewish friend more comfortable and to learn about Jewish culture, the informant’s family blended together these two traditions.

However, the informant’s family took the search for the afikomen out of context. Traditionally, the children search for the afikomen at a Passover seder, and there are multiple reasons and explanations for this practice. Some say that the tradition of hiding and searching for the afikomen is an effort to keep the children awake throughout the seder, which can be a very long, traditional meal, sometimes lasting for hours. Searching for the afikomen can keep the kids occupied while the adults conduct the seder. Another explanation for the purpose of the afikomen is that seeking the matzah symbolizes future redemption for the Jewish people. However, in the case of the Jewish Easter egg hunt, the afikomen is used merely as a symbolic gesture— a lone Jewish artifact hidden among plastic Christian relics, but, ultimately, meant to serve the same purpose as the Easter eggs (you find something and you are rewarded for it.)

Slap in the Face

Nationality: American
Age: 56
Occupation: Attorney
Residence: Oceanside, New York
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English
Language: None

 

“In my Jewish family, and I’m sure in many other Jewish families, when the girl got her period, the mother would slap the girl across the face, very hard, and leave an imprint. I’m not sure what the reason was… something about warding off evil spirits, I think. To keep the devil away from you.”

 

When a girl begins to menstruate, she is able to get pregnant. This can be a great worry for many mothers who are trying to keep their children pure for marriage, or, at least, keep their children from becoming mothers before they are ready. The slap is supposed to be painful so that it warns you against becoming pregnant; the pain of the slap is symbolical of the pain of pregnancy and the difficulty of raising a child. Furthermore, being pregnant at a young age is like a slap in the face to your family. An unwed, pregnant girl would bring great shame to a traditional Jewish family. The sting of the slap, on one level, represents that sting of shame that the family would feel. The slap is supposed to leave an imprint for a while so that it serves as a lasting reminder not to get pregnant.

Judaism in its institutional form does not tend to deal with spirits or concepts such as the devil, so it is interesting that this Jewish folk practice invokes those ideas. This practice is an example of how folk traditions can deviate from a religion’s scripture or institutionalized forms.

Jewish Saying Summing Up Every Holiday

Nationality: American
Age: 56
Occupation: Attorney
Residence: Oceanside, New York
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English
Language: None

“The way you can sum up every Jewish holiday, for the most part, is: they tried to kill us, we survived, now let’s eat. It means to me two different things. One is very serious… for some reason, so many other cultures have decided that the Jews should be annihilated. The other thing it means to me, that bothers me, is that many of our uh… that Jews tend to dwell on these negative events to define who they are and what they are about.”

 

The informant told me that she doesn’t know where she first heard this phrase, but that “probably some other Jew said it to me.” I have heard this phrase and similar phrases throughout my entire life, and I have often used a variation of this phrase to try to explain my religion or the holidays we engage in to people who are unfamiliar with Judaism.

The thing that interests me the most is this informant’s take on the phrase. I have usually heard this phrase used in a way that is dismissive (oh, all of our holidays are just like this…) or, more often, in a way that is humorous. It’s almost comical to think that most Jewish holidays follow this pattern and that they usually involve the consumption of a lot of food, which seemingly, on the surface, has little relevance to the heavier, darker fact that Jews have been persecuted and have had to escape death time and time again.

For instance, Sean Altman is a singer-songwriter who performs under the band name Jewmongous. He has a comedic song called “They Tried to Kill Us (We Survived, Let’s Eat)” that supposedly explains the story of Pesach. It contains a ton of pop culture references and factual inaccuracies, which is supposed to prove that all of the details of the holiday are basically irrelevant, because all you need to do is boil down the holiday to this one simple phrase, which is contained in the chorus. The song is available as an MP3 and on a CD, which you can purchase on his website at http://www.jewmongous.com/. You can also watch a live performance of the song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34atu3WGUgc).

Despite the fact that this phrase is typically repeated for its humor, I have always heard this informant use the phrase in a sort of melancholy way. To her, the phrase represents a long and depressing history of the Jewish people, and she believes that the use of this phrase, combined with the practice of Jewish holidays, tends to perpetuate a tendency to dwell on the negative. While I see her point and definitely agree that Jews tend to have a martyr complex, I strongly believe that this phrase is a way for Jewish people to reclaim their history and bring joy by making light of very serious problems. Rather than dwell on the negative, we look forward to the positive— in this case, a large feast.

 

Parable

Nationality: American
Residence: IL
Performance Date: 11 April 2011
Primary Language: English

“There’s a story about a man who goes into synagogue in a small Ashkenazic town [in Germany, along the Rhine] in the 18th or 19th century.  He’s there for Yom Kippur, which is the most important holy day of the Jewish year. (Well, that’s an oversimplification, but go with it.)  Yom Kippur is a day where we pray to repent of all our sins and have a fresh slate for the New Year, to become better people.  We pray, significantly, for G-d to grant forgiveness, so that we may move on.  This man walks into the synagogue, and he starts saying his alef bet (ABC’s in Hebrew–this would have been before the Reform movement, when you couldn’t go to a synagogue that prayed in the vernacular, it was all in Hebrew or Aramaic).  Some people around him start to complain, to ask what he is doing.  The rabbi comes and asks him what he is doing.  He says, “The only thing I know in Hebrew is the alef bet.  I thought I would offer that to G-d as my sincere prayer of repentance.”  The rabbi told the congregants, “G-d is more likely to hear every letter that sincerely comes out of his mouth than all of the prayers said by people without true intent.”

Leslee grew up in a Jewish community in Kansas, and when talking about her the folklore of her  culture, she said “Most Jewish folklore has been published, largely because, when you’ve never been a majority culture, and the majority cultures have consistently tried to eradicate you, and you base your culture on a notion of being “people of the book”, you write stuff down…ask any Ashkenazi Jew how far they can trace back their family: the people who can do it more than two generations are the super lucky (and rare) ones.”

Accordingly, this story emphasizes the importance, not necessarily of words themselves, but of the intent behind them, and (as Leslee says) the way language is used to preserve culture. The man in the story does not have the words he needs, so he uses the words that he has and that rings truer for the rabbi than any thoughtless recitations from people who had been schooled in the language and customs. It’s a pretty great reminder to people of all religions that their rituals have meaning and purpose that is largely drawn from the faith that drives them.

I found another version of this story which supposedly occurred in a Jewish community in Kiev during perestroika. The setting is Yom Kippur, 1987, and the story explains that it was the first Yom Kippur in decades where Jews have been allowed to practice openly, and that the service was not going well. People were uncertain of how to pray together and were growing bored. Finally, the rabbi tells a version of the parable above (set in Poland) where the protagonist is not an adult man, but is instead a shepherd boy who does not know the prayers and cannot read, but very much wants to pray, so he recites the alef bet to the best of his ability and asks G-d to understand. Moved by this story, the people recited the alef bet as a whole and then exited the synagogue. I find this version very poignant because it demonstrates the effect that folklore can have on a community, helping them to retain their identity in the face of opposition and strife, and serving as a reminder that the universal tie that connects all of them is not necessarily ritual, but faith; and this piece of folklore is indicative of the strength of that faith- a faith which has allowed “a minority culture” to survive and thrive throughout the centuries and on into the future.

The version of the legend that I cited can be found here: http://www.ascentofsafed.com/cgi-bin/ascent.cgi?Name=567-02

Jewish Recipes

Nationality: English
Age: 52
Occupation: Journalist
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: 4/22/11
Primary Language: English

The informant is a caucasian female in her 50s. She was born and raised in England. She, and her three siblings, were raised as orthodox jews. After university, the informant moved to Northern California for graduate school. She later moved to Los Angeles, where she now resides. The informant trained in school as a biologist, but switched to journalism and now works for a large newspaper. She is divorced with one child.

Following are two recipes for traditional jewish dishes.

Potato Latkes:

The informant learned this recipe for latkes from a Jewish women’s group at a synagogue in Los Angeles. She learned it soon after she was married when in her late 20s. She makes them only during Hanukkah. As a child, her mother would make latkes, but of a different sort. Her mother made matzoh meal latkes and served them with fried fish. These latkes were served at both Hanukkah and Passover. The informant was taught to make matzoh meal latkes by her mother, but when she tried to on her own she accidentally compressed air inside the meal and they exploded upon cooing. The informant decided to learn how to make potato latkes after having them at various friends houses during Hanukkah. She found the potato latkes to be delicious and purposefully asked the women’s group at the synagogue for the recipe.

Recipe:  Peel regular potatoes. Grate. Put in colander and sprinkle with salt. Let sit for ½ hour. Squeeze out excess moisture. Put in a bowl. Add 1-2 eggs. Add a finely chopped onion. Add a little flour. Mix together. Heat oil in frying pan, ½ inch deep. When oil is hot, add spoonfuls of latke mix. Pres flat into patties. Fry until crispy on one side, flip, and fry until crispy on other side. Remove from pan. Drain on towel to remove excess oil. Keep warm in oven until ready to eat, but not heaped on top of each other so they don’t get soft. Serve with sour cream and apple sauce.

Charoset:

Charoset is a traditional part of the passover meal, representing the mortar the enslaved Israelites used to build the pyramids in Egypt. The informant learned the recipe from her mother. Her three siblings and she would all participate in the preparation of the charoset, which would usually take place on the first day of passover. They would make enough for both nights of passover. Leftovers would be eaten on matzoh in the days after passover. The informant learned to make charoset at a very young age, in grade school. During preparation, her siblings would have competitions to see who could peel the whole apple in one string. The apple peels would sometimes be consumed as a snack during the making of the charoset. Whenever the informant makes charoset she remembers passover as a child and her mother cleaning the whole house and preparing all of the food for the meal. It brings back fond and fun memories of the communal and family aspect of the passover service.

Recipe:  Take tart green apples and peel. Course grate. Put in bowl. Take walnuts and grind them using a metal table top wheel grinder, or another appropriate method. Mix walnuts with apples. Add red wine to get a reddish color and mushy consistency. Add some sugar to taste, or honey. Adjust proportions of ingredients until it tastes right. Put it in fridge until ready.

Analysis:  In both of these recipes it is not so much the ingredients that matter, but the connotations of the dishes themselves and the memories they invoke. In many examples of foodways there is not only no specific memory, but it is the tradition behind the food, the passing of recipe down through the years, that has the most significance. As to ingredients, the informant did not have exact recipes for either dish, making both to taste and from memory. Every time she makes each dish it changes. What remains are the memories associated with the dishes. Both are associated with family and tradition, as each dish was only made at a time of gathering, initiated by Jewish custom. To her, the two dishes represent a special time of year when her family gathered together to celebrate. Part of what makes these associations so strong is the fact that both dishes are only served at specific times of year. The feelings that the making and eating of charoset and latkes invoke are stronger because the activities are done only on the two high holidays, and so the specialness is not diluted through continuous repetition throughout the year.