I’ve seen all these memes on Facebook about how to explain the Jewish holidays to non Jews. Succot, which in goyish terms is translated into Feast of the Tabernacles, is explained in this meme as “Huts Appreciation Week”. I was born on the eve of Succot, 39 glorious years ago and it’s been a tradition of mine to celebrate it in the succa with my family, while contemplating my life in the light of the full moon of Tishrei – known as the Moon of the Robust.
This year was the second year in a row that I did not celebrate my birthday with my parents because Corona still holds its crown. I decided to make my own birthday cake. I was thinking about the Alfajores biscuit cake I made earlier (because it’s officially my favorite cake ever!) but my daughter insisted on the regular mekupelet one we already made a bunch of times before which always comes out spectacular. So we made that one on the morning of Succot eve. I added my name on it with fondant, but then it melted so I got rid of it before serving it for dessert that evening.
In my family, I don’t ever remember us building our own succa. I know my grandfather used to build one but he stopped when I turned five because that was the year my uncle – his son – was killed. Since then, we celebrated Succot and my birthday while commemorating my uncle all at the same time. After that, in Canada, we used to go to the succa of the nearest synagogue just for the holiday kiddush, and then we went back home for the meal because it was way too cold to eat in the succa. When we moved back to Israel, we went to my aunt’s succa in Meitar with the whole family every year. But then Corona struck and that was the end of that. My husband’s family stopped building their succa after my father-in-law got sick and got disabled as a result. So last year was the first year I spent Succot without a succa. I built a tiny one for my daughter out of a large cardboard box that I painted and decorated. She loved the hell out of it and played in it for months until it was in tatters.
“Next year, we’ll build a REAL succa!” I promised her.
And so, the most exciting thing about this year’s holiday is that I managed to keep my promise to my daughter. This is the first year in our lives that we built our very own succa! We ordered the metal rods and the canvas from Home Center. We put it together on the weekend before chag, before realizing we didn’t have a schach (branches for the roof). My husband got the bamboo support rods and the schach that same day and completed the job with his brother-in-law. My daughter made some succa decorations at kindergarten and my mother-in-law bought a few more. We decorated it on morning eve after we finished making my birthday cake. My daughter was so happy about it, she wanted to stay and play in the succa the entire time.
Now, since it’s getting pretty chilly in the evenings of our little mountain neighborhood of Gilo, we decided to do the same as my family and I did in Canada – do the holiday Kiddush as well as the motzi (blessing on the bread) in the succa, then go back inside for the meal. It was pretty nice, and we had a dairy dinner that evening which made it even better.
The next day, we were invited to my sister-in-law’s house for a BBQ (they were planning fish instead of meat). I wasn’t very excited about that. I don’t know what it is about my sister-in-law’s place that doesn’t agree with me. Last Yom Haatzmaut, I felt the same. The place is huge and despite that, I couldn’t find a single corner where I felt comfortable. I kept moving from room to room, floor to floor, indoors to outdoors, switching between chairs, couches and sofas and couldn’t find my groove anywhere. The moment I sat anywhere, I’d start fidgeting.
And then there’s the bees. On Yom Haatzmaut, there was a gigantic one inside the house. For some reason, I was the only one who actually noticed it. And anywhere I went, it followed me around. This time, we were in the succa, and a small bee came in and decided to settle on my plate. I went back inside to eat.
And also, I get so exhausted, I’m near-comatose. This doesn’t happen to me anywhere else, only at my SIL’s house. I started thinking maybe it’s the altitude. She practically lives on a mountain. Maybe I’m not getting enough oxygen. But our neighborhood, Gilo, is also at a high altitude. Whatever the case, the moment we get to her house, I want to leave. I don’t say anything of course, so I try to stand it in silence and keep checking my watch.
Succot is a week-long holiday, but except for the first day and the last day that are high holidays and everything is closed, the rest of the time is chol hamoed. We still don’t go to work and kids don’t have school, but everything is open, especially vacation spots. So we had to try and find things for my kid to keep her busy. On the first day of chol hamoed, I had to go to work for a few hours, so my husband took my daughter to get tested for Corona (more on that below) and then took her to what he calls a “ninja” playground. My kid is slowly improving with her climbing skills so that playground came in handy for her practice.
On the second day, I set a playdate with one of my daughter’s friends but unfortunately, she was in a mood and the playdate ended in tears on both sides.
My in-laws decided to book a hotel for the weekend of chol hamoed. They settled on Netanya which is a nice little beach-side city. We went there with my parents on Shavuot in 2019 and had a blast.
As per the Tav Yarok instructions of the hotel, we got my daughter tested for Covid before going there. She tested negative. Both me and my husband are already vaccinated three times over so that was fine. But I was still worried for a whole slew of reasons:
- I don’t trust people. There is no telling if anyone there is vaccinated/tested negative. These are easy things to forge/fake.
- I don’t trust non-homemade food. There have been endless reports on TV about restaurants and hotel food either using expired ingredients or being infested with fecal bacteria. And the businesses they were investigating are considered high-scale places, not just fast-food crap.
- Hotel = Not my home.
- Beach = Sand getting fucking everywhere.
- Pool = Way too many kids, way too fucking loud.
- We needed to find a suitable arrangement for my dog. I was worried that the caretaker would neglect giving her her meds at the right times and we would suffer the consequences of a sick dog.
- I know myself. I will want to go back home every fucking second I’m away.
However, the weekend away proved to be the best part of chol hamoed! The hotel was Leonardo Plaza, a top-rate hotel. The staff was more strict than I had anticipated regarding Covid instructions. People kept their masks on when they were not in their room. Tav Yarok was checked and people got bracelets to show they were cleared for entrance. The hotel food was outstanding, and I didn’t get sick from it. The room itself was wonderful and my daughter got a large bed just for herself and she loved it. And of course, the hotel was within walking distance of the beach and the boardwalk. The weather was perfect and there were no jellyfish in the sea. The water temp was perfect too and I loved watching my kid enjoying herself, playing in the shallow waves, playing in the sand, running around on the boardwalk, and having the best time ever.
[A fun little anecdote: At some point, my husband’s nephews came to our room to play with my daughter. One of them (a 6-year-old) decided to play with the hotel landline. When he picked up the receiver, it probably automatically dialed the reception because he said “Someone answered!” We told him to hang up the phone, but for a moment, he just stood there looking at it.
“Hang it up!” We told him again, and he looked at the keypad and said “How?!”
“Just place the receiver back in the cradle!” We said and then realized what happened. The kid is 6. He never encountered a landline. As far as he’s concerned, hanging up the phone means pressing a button, but he couldn’t find it. As it hit, I laughed my ass off. My husband joined in, and the kids had no idea what we found so fucking hilarious.]
And when we got back home, my dog was just fine. We just had one more day of chol hamoed to fill before going to my parents’ house for Simchat Torah (a.k.a. the second holiday of Succot).
So that last day was Sunday. We tried taking my daughter to the Gazelle Valley but there were so many people, we got nervous, so we left. An all-around useless day and I couldn’t wait to get back to our routine.
So at the end of the holiday, as I expected, I just wanted the motherfucker to end. I was glad we went to Netanya though. After two years of not doing anything because of Covid, going to a hotel was definitely necessary and worth it. But the rest of the holiday was boring and way too fucking long. I was tired of going places, of freaking out because of Covid, of spending too much time with people… I think that’s the issue. I don’t “people” very well. I like silence and solitude.
At the office, I’m at the reception desk by myself. Most of our clients either don’t show up at all, or come in and lock themselves in their office. So it’s always quiet.
At home, the only other people are my husband (a rather quiet guy and almost as much of a hermit as I am) and my daughter (although still young, can entertain herself and play by herself nicely and without making too much noise if at all). And my dog (who sleeps all day).
At my parents’ place, still quiet. I’m an only child so there are no siblings with kids of their own.
So I’m so used to being quiet and being around quiet individuals, that once I get someplace that is heavily populated and noisy, I get nervous and exhausted. The holidays make for the worst time of the year for me to get antisocial, but that’s exactly what they do to me.
I’m so glad it’s over… until Hanukkah, yet another week-long holiday.
Peace, love, and once an only child, always an only child.
Day 11: Double-Sided Mini Zine
♀ Riot Grrrl ♀ בישראל 