A Stranger

So last Friday was Tu Bishavat, leading to a packed house at Chabad in Denmark. Dealing with so many people as well as a personal issue (related to my family), I could not connect the same way as I could last week. I know that as one worships, one is supposed to empty their mind of all things but devotion. Unfortunately, I was not able to achieve such a state of mental focus last week. As such, it enabled me to focus more on my reactions to the service and the community than I might otherwise be able to do so.

I reckognized that I felt the stranger there as I feel in all of Denmark. In the case of the country, there are many reasons why I might feel like a stranger. The most obvious being I am a linguistic outsider, I have little to no knowledge of the Danish language. All I can effectively say in Danish is "I don't speak Danish." Although I was more obviously an outsider (at least in terms of appearance) in China, I was able to follow some of what was going on around me (at least some of the time.) A shared language is one of the many ways that one can and often times does find a sense of belonging.

As to why I felt like a stranger within Chabad...there are many rituals/customs/observances that I have not been previously exposed to. Since I have started to practice, I have followed ideas closer to Conservative or Reform Judaism (depending on if at home or college.) The practices of the Orhtodox community make me feel like an outsider as they are practices that I am not yet familiar. More than though, in a sense, I feel somehow...lesser. I know that even were I to 'toe party line' with the Orthodox community here, the feeling of being lesser would still most likely be with me.

There is a certain amount of self knowledge that I have managed to acquire through a life time of questioning. Among the first things I learned was that there is someone who will always be more (fill in the status here) then I am. In this case, there will always be individuals more devout. I know that if I pushed myself to the same level of devotion, I still would feel lesser. I know that if I tried to be closer to that ideal of devotion, I would still be unhappy with large parts of myself. I have to remind myself that it is okay to have this religious confusion and to not be as devout as those others attending Chabad.

Hopefully, publishing this will help me remember.

Second Friday

So I have ended my second week of classes and soon my second week in Denmark will be over. I have already begun counting the days until I leave, but this is not so unusual. I did something very much like it when I was in China, although it took me longer before I stared the counting of the days, and I updated that count only when I had nothing better to do with my time. Here, I make sure that there is a small tally mark in the back of my physical journal every night before I go to sleep.

Now that I have had all my classes at least once, here comes the feeling that I might have bitten off more than I can chew. Again, something not so out of the ordinary. I had the feeling as I began each of my previous college semesters. Every semester, I manage to pull myself together and digest everything that I have bitten off. Sorry for the slightly gross food analogy, but being hungry does tend to focus one's mind on a singular point.

With this being my second Friday, I will soon make the pilgrimage (after a fashion) to Chabad of Denmark of an evening of prayer, community, and dining. Since my first experience with the Orthodox community here, I have been questioning what I know of myself religiously almost constantly. I don't know to what extent my experiences of Friday last will shape me as a religious/spiritual person. Perhaps in this community I might find what I have been seeking for so long. Even if this is not where I decide to make my spiritual home, at least I will have been.

Knowing where one feels uncomfortable (spiritually/religiously speaking) is as important as knowing where one feels comfortable. Last Friday, I was so overwhelmed with the newness of everything that I did not have time to notice my comfort level with what was going on. Tonight, I will try to pay more attention to that. However, I may again get swept up in the experience, only to do for another week what I have spent the last week doing. These periods of intense self questioning are far from new, and I would be surprised even if I do carefully monitor my comfort level if I spent time questioning why I felt whatever level of comfort I may feel.

I know that there is no such thing as an easy answer, at least in terms of religious formulation. People have spent life times navigating the myriad oceans of religious experience. In all probablity, I will do the same, as I am always questioning. I wish I could say that these intense examinations make me a better person, but I'm far from certain of that. I willingly admit that all I can do is watch, react, and analyze my reactions as this situaion continues to unfold/evolve.

First Week

I've survived my first week in Denmark. I say it like that because I just feel...worn out for lack of a better term. China was certainly a different experience, or perhaps it was the program I went to China with. The programs are night and day to each other. While in China we did have classes, there was (or it felt like there was) more time for me to be involved in the community there. I was able to talk with my host family about important issues (to both them and myself), wander my way around the city, study the martial arts, and fit in time to do my homework\reading for my next classes. Here, I have yet to find that same rhythm. Perhaps it is a matter of time. After all, it took my two full weeks to get fully into the swing there.

So what are my thoughts about the first week of fifteen with this program? So far, I cannot but stop thinking about China. Every time I come across a difficulty here, I have to remind myself that I overcame something similar in China. Every time I find myself feeling homesick or overwhelmed, I remind myself that I did very well in China facing difficulties with far less contact to the states. Denmark is China's opposite in almost every respect. Perhaps I didn't give myself long enough to readjust to a more "Western" culture after I had left China. I'll never know.

The classes, or those that I have taken, do seem interesting. I have a full five courses, which reminds me of the beginning of my sophomore year of university. I will see how the course load comes along. Hopefully I will be able to link at least two of the final papers together, so instead of five term papers, I only write four. Even then none of these papers are required to be close to what I wrote in China. There I wrote my magnum opus (at least in terms of my current academic works.)

One thing that has been interesting is that in Denmark, the Jewish population is almost exclusively Orthodox. Before coming here, I had little to no interaction with the Orthodox community. In my religious leanings, I consider myself somewhere between the Conservative and Reform communities. As I am still learning much about Judaism as a participant instead of a student, I have to say there were many things with which I was unfamiliar in the Orthodox service I attended on Friday.

Is this to say that I didn't like it? Not in the least. It was certainly different from my previous experiences, but that does not mean it was a bad thing. I am still far from able to cognitively process everything about the service. I know that there was a strong sense of community, and there was a strong sense of fellowship. All of that said, I don't know yet if that is for me. As the Orthodox community seems to be the only one I can find, I will continue to attend services with them. Who knows, perhaps by the end of my time in Cophenhagen, I will have found a community to which I feel I belong...

"Senses of the Sea"

Again I have forgotten, as my

toes grip the shore. “Your race was

not meant to remember,” my mother whispers

as yet another of her white stallions crashes and then

retreats from the thousands of shards of rock. ‘You,’ I

sigh, ‘commanded me to remember.”

Above me, a seagull caws, and I

know that I will never live to see an

albatross. Those who do see themselves as lucky, until

its blood lies spilled with that of Sedna’s

multitudinous brood. Once my hand was

wrapped, not around yours, but around

the ebony handle with a moon kissed

blade.

I smell the salt, and the water, and think if Lot

had cried for his wife, would she have returned? Would

the Lord have extended mercy were she mourned? Gomorrah

is now forgotten, for it wished not to know. Knowledge, the

most ancient of sins, incarnated hung low

and a serpent hissed promises of a new birth

with the consumption there of.

“Does my taste still fill your mouth?” You demanded as I

took my well worn book off your shelf. I never answered, and

my footfalls were silent as I walked away. It was ever my

nature to do so. I am the ocean’s child, and love

for me is the flick of a whale’s tail. Glorious for a moment

and then back into the obsidian waters where it will

battle a Kraken in mortal combat. I could never forget

your taste, peaches, honey, and wine of a year that the

ocean drank much of as the Titanic drowned.

I still hear you moan at night, but it is Zephyr. My bed

has been an iceberg for over five months now. Soon

someone will see me dancing, and a small glass filled

with crimson will be placed into my hand. A conversation

of nothings will follow, a buzzing of bees for its content. Then

I will smile. Soon enough, we will be lovers, and my name, a prayer, will

fall from their lips as it once did from yours.

I have forgotten, what I am not quite sure. Perhaps it was your true

name. The one whispered only once by me as you slept.

My heart.

First Thoughts of Denmark

As mentioned in my last post, I was just slightly out of it. Not that I am ever fully with "it" (whatever "it" may be, but that is a post for another time.) I am currently studying in Denmark. Yes, that's right, Denmark. The Southernmost of the Scandinavian countries is where I will be for the next four months, and at every step, I can't but help to draw up some sort of comparison to the country I lived in last for an extended period, China. So far, with all due respect to the nice people I've met so far here in Denmark, I think I perferred China.

I know that is an odd thing to say, but when I went into China, I had some basic knowledge that I lack about Denmark. In China, I was familiar with Mandarin Dialect Chinese, so if I spoke slowly enough, I could be at the least understood by most people. In Denmark, although most of the population speaks English, I find it harder to communicate for whatever reason. While in China, I was not with an intensive language program, so I wasn't forced to speak Chinese all the time. However, I found by the end of my time in China that I was much more comfortable communicating in Mandarin. To be fair to Danish, I have not, nor will not, devote the same amount of time to it as I have to Mandarin (2.5 years so far). That doesn't change the feeling that even were I to speak Danish, I wouldn't be able to communicate well.

Another thing is in Denmark I feel less connected. In China, especially with the group I went with, I could not but be connected. I got to know the people I traveled with very well, and some of them have become members of my 'family'. Again, to be fair to Denmark, I haven't been here that long yet, and I am with a rather larger group of students. Perhaps there may come a time when I develop the same sort of connection to some of these fellow participants that I developed with those I traveled in China with. Currently though, I don't see that happening quickly.

When in China, I was made to hit the ground running, and it never fully stopped. Even in the moments of rest we did have, there was always the knowledge of what was to come, and that kept one's metaphorical feet in motion. Perhaps I will yet find my stride here, I have only been in this country since Sunday. However, the 'honeymoon period' I feel is already comming to an end. Perhaps it is a sticker shock. I could blame the value of the dollar, or just as easily the expenses of living in what has been described as a wellfare state. I guess its just something I will have to get used to.

In the meantime though, I will continue to mutter in Chinese under my breath and look for any opportunity to prepare some of the dishes my host mother taught me to cook.

Regularity

I have tried, and failed in keeping this blog regularly updated. The truth of the matter is that I can come up with any number of excuses why I have not posted until today. Any one of them might be a valid excuse, but it would not absolve me, not completely anyway. Considering that I type around thirty-words per a minute (give or take), it should take just about twenty minutes to create a post around 600 words in length. Most of the time, my posts are significantly less than that.

I am not making any excuses for a lack of updates. I could well say that considering that my life by many standards is ordinary, I don't have the material necessary for a blog. However, I know of many with lives more 'ordinary' than mine who are able to update their own blogs (be it on this website or others) with a great degree of regularity. So, as always, it comes down to a matter of motivation, of putting fingers to keyboard. As always, I am not satisfied with the content of this post. I could say what has happened recently, but the truth is I am still digesting what a radical change has occurred in the past 24 to 48 hours (more details when my brain isn't so scrambled).

So, I promise to be more regular, if I can. At least one post a week. One post of this length takes no time at all. So, until next week,

Rites of Passage

As an anthropologist in training, one of the things I have learned not to do is make wide general statements. That said, it seems like almost every culture has some form of a rite of passage, where a person progresses from one stage of their life to the next. Perhaps one of the most well known examples is the Bar or Bat Mitzvah ceremony where a young man or woman recites passages from the Torah before they become an adult in the eyes of their congregation/community. Another well known example (after a fashion) may be eighteenth birthday in the United States, when one is legally an adult, and thus can vote, fight for their country, and buy cigarettes. These are just some of the better known examples, however history and culture are both filled with countless more examples.

I bring all of this up as a reflection on something I read in April of 2009. It was an article for one of my classes. In that article, one of the arguments made was that almost all rites could be seen as rites of passage. I don't know if I agree with that point of view, but the author did make a compelling argument. Everything moves us from one to another point of life. Everything takes us from one destination to another. There is the journey, and that in itself is a rite of passage.

A Long Goodbye

Due in part to my love for film, I have noticed something of a line that by now I'm sure has become something of a cliche, "I hate long goodbyes." If not those exact words, variations of them conveying the same message, while not omnipresent, often do occur. In my immediate circle of friends, I can think of no one who truly relishes a long goodbye. There is something that makes the process slightly more painful when it is drawn out. When we are forced to make our peace many times with perhaps not seeing someone again, we give more of ourselves (at least, most of the time I feel that I do). It is not that long goodbyes don't have their places, just far too much do people comment on how they don't like them.

Sometimes, we have to take what farewells we can get. Those in favor of long goodbyes may say because of this every goodbye should be a longer one. I don't hold to that point of view. We say goodbye where and when we can. If that's all we get, well there's no use in complaining about it. We can feel guilty all we want, but as long as we say good bye, no matter the length, we've done all we can do for those we are leaving or those who are leaving us. We take what can get, and that's just the way the world is sometimes.

Resolutions

After much meditation, I have come to three resolutions that I hope to keep for the coming year. It is shorter than the original five, however considering what they are, I know I haven't made anything easy for myself. However, resolutions by their nature aren't supposed to be easy things. I guess in part that's why we make them, to challenge ourselves. I once heard that something like 94% of all New Year's resolutions are broken in the first three months of a year. Given my previous experience, it is a statistic that I am willing to believe, but I hope to prove that record wrong.

My first resolution is to no longer take the name of the Lord in vain. It is something that I did entirely too much last year. While (as I have been becoming more conservative in my religious practices) I have cut down on the numbers of the Big 10 (Commandments that is) I have been breaking, taking the Name in vain has always been one of the ones that I break, early and unfortunately often. Would that I could blame it all on popular culture or something else much like that, but the truth of the matter is that I am at fault here. I need to be responsible for my own actions, and as such, I will do what I can to no longer say the Name in vain.

My second resolution is about sobriety. I do not like the person I become when I drink. While I have always tried to be responsible in my alcohol use, I recognize that the only way I can be completely comfortable with myself is not to use. I don't shun those who choose to use, nor do I condemn them. Rather, I rest on the limited self knowledge that I have managed to acquire so far in my life. I don't like the person I become, and certain gates are not meant to be opened. So during 2010, I will be stone cold sober.

Finally, this summer, I am going to do everything in my power to keep Kosher. By this summer I don't mean the period between the Summer Solstice and the Autumnal Equinox. I mean the period at which I am home and have a little bit more freedom in my ability to prepare food. I have gone Kosher before (ironically enough during the Lent of 2009) and found that I felt better about myself during the period. I recognize that Kosher isn't necessarily better for health (as there are many deliciously heart clogging Kosher dishes) nor does Kosher mean that all aspects of the food preparation are as ethical as the slaughter (as evidenced by the raiding of a Kosher slaughter house where there were many illegal aliens working). However, Kosher for me this summer will not be about cleanliness. It will be part of my attempt to find my way in the Jewish community, which is becoming an increasingly larger part of my life.

So there you have them, my three resolutions. I just hope I manage to keep one of them all year.