Anyway, I’m standing there, recovering from Guy’s last maneuver, and there she was. A young woman, shabby looking with a floor touching skirt, an out of fashion out of season hat, sandals, and a huge nap sack. In retrospect, she was looking precisely as she was supposed to look, but she was so out of context, that I was completely thrown. She was all smiles, and she introduced herself, in Hebrew. I extended my hand, and the answer was surprising at the time, but not so in retrospect. It was: “I don’t shake hands, but my husband does”. Providing a few pieces of completely irrelevant data: she’s married, uninterested in strange men, and that she is a practicing religious Jew. As I said, irrelevant. Then came the next surprise. She actually was interested. Well, not that way. She was interested in making the acquaintance. Israelis, particularly when they are living outside of Israel tend to flock. It’s not an unusual thing, nor a bad one, it’s just a fact. Everyone likes to have the company of his or her own kind on occasion. In the absence of family, it’s a great substitute.

But in fact, religious Jews in Beijing in general, and in our apartment complex in particular are as common as fish on bicycles, scuba diving birds, or flying baboons. No offense meant of course. In retrospect, I was very disappointed at my own reaction. The offense deserved some reaction.  We continued the conversation, I handed her my number, and we parted. What I should have done is to say: “I don’t talk to strange women, but my wife does”. But I was brought up differently. Courtesy comes natural to me. In order to not offend someone I’m willing to go to great distances. I will eat strange foods, take part in strange ceremonies, I will be polite, and well mannered.

Amazingly, Judaism preaches to just that. There’s a famous proverb in Hebrew which suggests “The Way of the Land Precedes the Torah” (דרך ארץ קדמה לתורה). In other words, respect and courtesy come first, religion second. But this isn’t practiced anymore, unfortunately. Moreover. The original Judaism is very aware of personal relationships. In fact, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, only covers the relationship between a man and his Creator. What it doesn’t cover is the relationship between man and man. In other words, if someone didn’t follow the word of God, they can repent on the Day of Atonement. But if someone hurt another human being, they can fast and pray year round, and it won’t be forgiven, until the person goes and asks for forgiveness. From the hurting person that is. But unfortunately again, this too was put aside. Forgotten.

I was offended, I was hurt. And the additional data provided only made me feel worse. I was only being polite. And I’m willing to bet, that the real Jewish women, who care about God, but also care about their fellow human beings, would shake my hand even if it was inappropriate. After all, if that was a sin, Day of Atonement would take care of it. Now, she has to look me up and ask for my forgiveness…

But there’s more. Is a relationship between our families possible? According to their practice, they can’t eat even a bread crumb at our house, not a glass of water. We can’t go out to restaurants, there’s only one kosher restaurant in entire Beijing, and it’s way too expensive and way too unrewarding. We can’t watch a movie, we can’t walk in the park on Saturdays. Truly, there’s nothing we can do together except one. The usual scenario is simple. Real simple. We can get invited to a “Shabbat Meal”, usually a Friday night dinner or Saturday lunch. We can practice their ceremonies – wash our hands before the meal, recite the prayers before and after the meal, sing some special poems and songs. Supposedly, not a big deal for us, except “experiencing a little Yiddishkeit” – Judasim, become “closer”. For them, it’s the opportunity to get a completely secular (some even atheist) family a little closer to Judaism. I hear that you score some good points with the Man upstairs for that.

Well, my friend, I’ll have to disappoint you. It won’t work. The reason is simple, and short. Been there, done that. I graduated from a Yeshiva (yes, for those of you who had no idea, particularly you, who think I’m the exemplary atheist – I’m sorry for not disclosing earlier), and my ex wife is a religious Jew. I spent more time in synagogues than I care to admit, and recited way too many prayers already. I want my children, at least the ones who live with me, to grow free of this burden. I want them to be curious, inquisitive, and to learn to live with unanswered questions. And in answer to your unasked question: no, I’m not a self-hating Jew. In fact, I’m proud of it.

And yes, I forgive you.

But very few people know what it means for an observant Jew to prepare for the Holiday of Passover. In fact, slavery seems quite appealing, if you really want to prepare for the Passover the way some truly observant ultra-orthodox Jews do.

Let’s start even before the Holiday. Long before the holiday. Many Jews would only eat wheat which was “observed”, or “guarded” from last year’s crops. It’s called “Matzo Shmura” or “guarded Matzo”. In short it means that no leavened dough came anywhere near this flour, and that it’s completely kosher for Passover. The water used for the making of this “guarded Matzo”" is called “our water”, water that are beyond suspicion. The matzo is then baked under heavy guard, just to make sure that no leavened bread comes near it. The kosher security alert is raised for passover, and is at the red level, the highest possible. Everyone is under suspicion.

When the holiday comes close, a month before the middle of Nissan (around late March to mid April), things shift into high gear. Cows in certain dairies have their diets completely changed, so they can lose all their leavened food the natural way, before the holiday, so they can produce perfectly kosher milk for the holiday. Shelves in certain supermarkets become inaccessible, secured, covered. They are loaded with Passover food. Can’t go near.

Observant Jews start the spring cleaning. This is really an understatement. A closer definition would be something like: “lets burn everything that’s come in contact with leavened bread during the past year”. If you have some bread crumbs in your pocket, you definitely run a high risk of being boiled or incinerated by some ultra orthodox Jew. Rabbinical committees are formed to decide which medications are to be used during the holiday, and which patients should either look for alternatives or get healthy at once. Dish washing liquids, laundry detergents, toothpastes, soap bars, are all looked at and disposed of if they are not up on par with the demands of the holiday. And it gets better every year.

When I was married to my ex-wife, I saw it first hand. Flamethrowers were used to clean the kitchen before the holiday. The walls, which initially were to be destroyed, were pardoned and sentenced to be covered with aluminum foil instead. Dishes were boiled, welded, heated to the point of melting, thrown away or put away. Special dishes were taken out of the attic, dipped in boiling water. Readied for the holiday. I was always willing to bet, that if God was watching this lunacy from wherever he is, he would have said: “guys, please guys, all I meant was for you to stay away from the goddamn bread for a few days, you have taken it way, way too far…”. But God is nowhere to be found these days. Well, maybe in some caves in Afghanistan…

This wasn’t the way Passover was prepared by my family when I was growing up. Sure, spring cleaning was always performed. But in a nice way. Books would be taken out, clothes taken out to air. We always found stuff we had lost over the year. But no garment was ever suspicious of malicious infestation of leaven, no book was burnt for being indicted of hosting a concealed bread crumb. It was more relaxed. And fun. As a side note – I always remember Moses and Aaron, the two large carps who were swimming in the bath tub for a couple of days before they became Gefilte Fish – or stuffed fish – for the holiday meal…

The Seder, the festive meal of the evening of the holiday, the highlight of the Holiday, was always a nice thing when I was growing up. My grandfather on my father’s side would read the Haggadah – or the special prayer book recited on the eve of the holiday – in both Hebrew and Spanish, an incredible meal would be served, and the children would get real, real nice gifts for the Holiday. It would usually be over before midnight, and the kids loved it. It was fun. It was a fun way of practicing religion. True to the original instruction by God – a celebration of freedom. My grandfather on my mother’s side would get drunk, and by the end of the meal was never sure what it was that we were celebrating. As I said – fun.

But at my ex-in-laws, the Seder was, in my mind anyway, nothing less than a celebration of slavery and misery, and not deliverance. It would start late, because the men were expected back from the Synagogue. The women are usually exhausted, and the children are starved. Bread eating is forbidden from the earlier hours of the day, but Matzo eating is forbidden before the ceremonial prayers. The prayers are read, and read, and discussed, and re-read, and sung, and recited, and re-recited. Matzo is not just eaten, it has to be eaten in measure. A precise measure. And the eating is done quietly. No word is spoken. When you’re done eating the measure of Matzo, you’re usually covered in crumbs, and your stomach filled with dust. The bitter herbs come next, and each man eats a full head of lettuce. When the ceremonial part is over, the men are stuffed with matzo and lettuce, the kids are sleeping at the table, and then dinner is served. In paper plates and plastic utensils. What a site.

The next day, the show runs precisely the same only an hour later. If it was up to me – I’d go back to Egypt. Building pyramids never hurt anyone…

So Passover is the holiday when I feel my personal liberation. I feel that I won my freedom, again. Not out of Egypt, but out of Brooklyn… The Red Sea didn’t part for me, and I didn’t wander around in the desert for forty years. But I was freed all the same. I celebrate Passover now, with my new family, in a relaxed way, closer probably to the original meaning of God. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still an atheist, but God and I have an understanding.