Cookie celebration

Let's make hamentashen!

As Ze'ev described to a couple of our guests unfamiliar with the holiday of Purim: there was a good guy and a bad guy, the bad guy was an anti-Semite, he lost and now we eat cookies shaped like his ears.

I shouldn't be so dismissive, though. There are parts to this story and the traditions around celebrating it that I've really loved ever since my introduction to Purim through a Jewish Feminist Thought class in my undergrad. 

It is the story of Esther and her role in preventing Haman from succeeding in his plan to kill her people, the Jews. I'm not going to get into the details, but I love two things in particular: that one part of the celebration is to drink enough so you can't tell the difference between Haman (bad guy) and Mordechai (good guy); and the importance of forgetting/remembering that runs through many Jewish holidays/traditions (as described in an article I still remember from that university class), in this case through using noisemakers to drown out Haman's name each time it is spoken when the story is retold on Purim.

 

And also, the cookies are delicious. (Ze'ev got creative and expanded from the traditional triangle shape.)

Ok, because I've been a bit vague about the thoughtful bits I like about this holiday, an excerpt from the article I mentioned for those who are interested...

Tales from Cuba: Peso Pizza

One of the interesting things about travelling in Cuba is the dual currency system. Tourists generally use the Cuban Convertible Peso (CUC), worth a bit more than a Canadian dollar, and valued based on the American dollar somehow (I'm clearly a bit fuzzy on the details). Locals use (and get paid in) "moneda national", also called pesos, and 25 of these pesos equals one CUC. So, generally, tourists are charged in CUCs simply because we are tourists (and also because many of the businesses and restaurants we frequent only deal with CUCs) BUT there are a few things you can only buy in pesos. Ze'ev was very excited about getting some pesos and trying to find places where they would let us use them (so much cheaper! beating the system!) and I was more skeptical until I talked to a friend who goes to Cuba twice a year and is very knowledgeable - she told me that having some pesos onhand (maybe 5 CUCs worth) is helpful for some things you can only buy in pesos, like fruit at local markets, peanuts and fun drinks from street vendors, and... peso pizza.

So, after successfully purchasing a green pepper at a market for 2 pesos (pennies!) we ventured out to find peso pizza. We had been told that these are like doughy "personal" pizzas with a little sauce and lots of cheese; they are simple but delicious and cheap. There was one location marked on our borrowed map of Havana (also mentioned in the guide book), we took an overpriced Coco taxi to the spot, very excited about this adventure.

We arrived and found the sign for pizza hung by a residential door with no other signs of this being a business. We weren't sure what to do next. Ze'ev tentatively rang the buzzer but there was no response and our dissapointment grew as we realized it was probably closed. I looked around - this was a fairly quiet side street with a line of bicycle taxis lined up beside eachother and a few people standing along the street opposite us. We clearly didn't know what we were doing and the few people around were calmly watching us. 

Then one of the men on a bicycle taxi called to us and motioned towards himself. We hesitated, thinking he was probably going to try and convince us to take a ride or try and sell us a cigar or something. But he kept beckoning and pointing up to the top of the building above our heads. Finally, Ze'ev went over to see what he was pointing at, and there, waaaaay at the top of the building was a guy leaning over... to take our order for pizza! It took a bit to figure this out, so while Ze'ev was asking "pizza?" and trying to figure out if he knew the word in Spanish for "cheese", the pizza guy is yelling at him, "speak! speak!" in Spanish, trying desperately to get us to actually place an order so he could continue with his business. Ze'ev managed to communicate that we wanted two pizzas "sin carne" and I looked around again and realized that the people standing along the street were, of course, waiting for their order! 

We decided to continue to make fools of ourselves by taking pictures while we waited. I crossed the street again to stand beside the sign for a photo op. Suddenly Ze'ev said, "Rose, watch out!" Watch out for what? I looked side to side and finally looked up to see a basket descending from the sky, narrowly missing my head. (Click on the picture to see my look of astonishment.)

 What was this? I put my hand on the basket dangling next to me and pulled it towards me. Two women crossed the street and calmly, without acknowledging me at all, took the basket back, took out their pizza, and put money into the basket. I crossed the street hysterically laughing. No one had told us!! 

 Many people had given us tips about Cuba, had told us some of the oddities and idiosyncrasies  of the country, even my friend who told me about pizza had not mentioned that it arrives in a basket out of the sky! (In her defence, she later told me she was aware of this basket phenomenon but that she had not, in all her trips to Cuba, actually bought anything that was lowered in a basket.)

The pizza was, indeed, delicious.

Call your grandma

... or mentor, or elder, or ...

Photo by Layton Reid

"Everywhere, there are blessings, there are miracles, there is a universe tending to our million needs for air, comfort, love, support, good roads, kind hearts, tending gatherings and delicious mountains.

And they are the sentinels watching for them, praising them, delighting in them, alerting us all to them."

Home again, home again

 

Cuba was amazing. It was a little disorienting to travel somewhere so different but be there and back so easily with the short direct flight from Ottawa. Travelling within the same time zone makes a huge difference in settling in when first there and readjusting when coming back.

 

Maybe because of this ease, it felt almost too normal to be there (crazy though the country is). I worried a few times that I wasn't being aware or appreciative enough of the travel, the bright hot sun in February, etc.

 

I was, however, very present while I was there. Maybe I didn't need to compare what I was experiencing to my usual experience in order to live it and to just be. 

I am definitely grateful, though, to have the opportunity to take these breaks from work, to travel with such an amazing partner, to experience and sample and taste another place and another mode of being.

More to come. Replete with crazy stories and adventures.