The meaning of being Jewish…

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“I’m the only western person in history to live in all Arab countries. The story goes a long way back to the time that the British…” Was just a beginning to a very long monologue. Huh? What are you talking about? Where am I? WHO ARE YOU? Head almost falling, eyes almost closing, even humor and confusion were no decent rescue for the situation at hand.

Every once in a while I re-consider my current perspective. I’m willing to let go of the baggage, I’m willing to give the whole thing a try. This time there was a good reason – in order to accomplish things over here, maybe like everywhere else, you need connections. Everybody else pulls all sorts of amazing connection like daddy giving his son a job at the law firm or mommy calling her rich kindergarden mate to see if she could help out with some government papers. Jewish folks, well, that’s even legendary. Legendary for me, since I’ve heard about it so much, but has never seen anything good come out of it. Way I see things – if you get something through a favor or personal connection then something is bound to screw up and then you’re both in a bad spot. And I haven’t even started with what I feel towards religion. Heck, I’ll re-consider my current perspective, I’ll go give the very small Taipei Jewish community a look, see if I can learn anything new.

Friday night, I’m wearing the only decent set of clothing that I bought back in Aussie for Rosh Hashana and head out to the address given to me in email by the local Rabbi. Arriving at Landis Hotel I was referred to the office building next to it, where I entered an empty room with one impressive old man sitting next to a table. I introduce myself, he mocks me for my lack of a business card and my stupid nickname, and goes into this incredible endless monologue about who he is. No doubt, he knows people, he’s been everywhere, and his whole presence screams – “look at me, I’m very important” in a way I’ve only seen in British comedies. There’s no way of stopping him, and he will – just for laughs – make you feel stupid and ignorant. “You know XYZ ofcourse” he would ask and I would reply “No, actually I don’t”, to which he would insist “ofcourse you do, think hard”, to which I would say “Nope, nothing” and then he would tell me who it is and test me again in a few sentences. Mommy, I wana go home, where’s my bottle?

There is a Jewish god, I know that now. She has heard my prayers and saved me from this living hell by providing it to another. Late, but just in time before I lose it, came this American Jew from Washington DC – “oh, please, tell the young man what DC is” – who married a Taiwanese many years ago and also has a son here. If I thought that I had it bad, well, he got it worse. The old Rabbi managed to humiliate him by constantly showing his ignorance and lack of ability to follow te flow of the stories been told. I was left to giggle through what was happening before me, and to wonder why this guy kept coming back there every time he visited Taiwan.

Third person to arrive is a Taiwanese girl, who has nothing to do with Judaism or Jewish people, who sat at the back chair. Apparently, being interested in Hebrew as a Christian she started learning it and was intrigued by Jewish religion. She reads and understands Herbew perfectly and knows all the ceremonies and prayers by heart. Heaven be thy name.

Highlight of the evening happened when the final guests arrived. A typical Israeli from a Moroccan background brought in two guests from Israel, one over 70 and his son, 6-7th generation in Tzfat with an Irani background. Now, there isn’t a bigger contrast in Jewish cultures than what I was witnessing between the Rabbi and the older guest. The Rabbi started another one of his self-introducing monologues “you know, I’ve been to Iran and Iraq back in…” to which the old Israeli interrupted him with a blunt “Right, whatever, good for you. Who cares?”. At last, the final battle between good and evil. Forget WWF and boxing, this was the real deal.

Praying, if you can call it that, started. This was something that I haven’t experienced in years and I was feeling extremely uncomfortable. Reliving my previous recollection of what praying was, the typical Israeli started making conversation. While talking in prayer back in the old days made more sense, being in a big temple far away from other people, this time it was absurd. It was one small room with 7 people in it and the slightest whisper was heard. Where am I from? What am I doing in Taiwan? Do I need help? Not that I was doing it or cared, but it was very inconsiderate. Well, so much for praying.

Listening to the weekly lecture about the Bible was more like listening to the Rabbi’s resume blended with very simple text interpretation. The whole time I was thinking that having my Taiwanese friends – Jessie and Vanina – do it, would be a lot more interesting and profound. Through out the lecture the old Tzfat guy make numerous comments that brought me and the typical Israeli down to the floor laughing, while the Taiwanese girl was staring at us amazed and the American Jew was trying to escape humiliating questions from the Rabbi.

Holy Christ, blessed be our fathers – Abraham, Isaac and Yaakov. Forgive me, virgin Maria and grungy Sarah – I’m outta here to visit the Chinese Buddha temple…

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