Some of the most fun that I ever had in my life was on my first visit to a friend in New York City. Now, I had been to New York City before, because as a child, I had relatives in Long Island. But only this time did I actually get out and explore some of the more interesting sides of New York City.
Greenwich Village was my absolute favorite. Nowhere else in the world have I seen people feel as free to express themselves as they are. I grew up in Washington, DC, and not until this moment did I realize just how conservative the city of my birth actually is. Never had I seen more color, more fun, and more unique fashion than I did in the Village.
It was a hot summer day in June and we spent the afternoon simply walking through the Village's streets and admiring the variety of people and of scenery. We passed all kinds of small shops selling just about anything you can imagine: from ethnic designs to mod fashion to instruments from all over the world and more. We stopped in one of the instrument shops and I admired several instruments - mostly Middle Eastern - that I had always wanted to learn to play.
We had lunch at a wacky restaurant called Jekyll and Hyde's in which the wait staff play all kinds of tricks and riddles on customers. After that, we explored the neighborhood - in which the Gay Rights movement had originated.
It was...well...liberating to see so many people being themselves out in the bright daylight - certainly something not visible in Washington, DC where the culture is one of elitist snobbery - the wrong kind.
It can be said that there are two kinds of people in the world: those who are interested in where they come from and own it culturally, and those who do not care at all.
On a spring day more than a year ago, I decided that if I didn't attempt to do the genealogical work on my father's family, then no one else would do it for me. I have an aunt on my mother's side who has done all of that work, so that made my job much easier.
All I knew was that my father's father had emigrated from Hungary to the United States and my father had an idea of what his grandfather's name might have been in Hungary. I started with the Ellis Island immigration records, found his, and worked from there. I came up with 7 names in one night, and thought that the rest was going to be easy - but the further back you attempt to go, especially in another country, the more difficult the job gets.
But at any rate, the point is to learn something about yourself because you can't (or, at least, shouldn't) separate yourself from where your family came from. I wanted to discover this Eastern European Jewish side of me, and was hoping that this work would open up names and places and get me better acquainted with the "old country" as it were. I was also hoping that it would reveal names of living relatives all over the world, giving me more places and people to connect with. So far, I have two names of cities in Hungary and am hoping eventually to get there, discover the Jewish communities, ask around, and connect with people. In other words, to take my place in a family with more than one branch.
The last piece of advice that my ninth-grade biology teacher gave us was "don't be a sun worshipper!" Apparently, his wife was what he referred to as a "sun worshipper" (a term that I had never heard of prior to that day) and he, as a biologist, could not sanction a practice that could eventually be harmful to one's health.
I have a confession to make: I am a sun worshipper, against my biology teacher's advice. Last week, a friend and I traveled to Eilat, on Israel's southern borders with Egypt, Jordan, and the Red Sea. It was the final fun-trip that we wanted to take prior to the start of our last semester (theoretically, anyway) as graduate students, even if it only lasted about 24 hours. Most of Israel was covered in clouds and rain at the time; when we left Tel Aviv, it was gray, cold, windy, and wet. Six hours or so later, when we arrived in Eilat, we found nothing but warm sunshine. However, it was already mid-afternoon, so there wasn't much sunshine left in the day by that point.
The next morning when we woke up, we found an even more beautiful day. The hours between 10 AM and 2 PM or so were spent sitting outside enjoying the weather and enjoying the incredible aquamarine color of the Red Sea, even in February. As you may have guessed by now, these are the high hours of the day, in which the sun reaches its zenith. As a sun-worshipper, I am at a concrete disadvantage: I never remember to wear sunscreen! I never feel like I'm getting sunburned as it is happening. However, later that afternoon at one of the rest stops on the long bus trip north, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and my chest and arms were bright red. I couldn't believe it - it hadn't felt that bad until that very moment.
Nonetheless, the thrill of sitting out in the sun in a tank top in February was amazing. I wished that I could call my friends in Virginia to brag about it. I might have, except for the 7-hour time difference.
It's a girl's birthday. Normally, our group of four takes the birthday girl out to dinner. It's kind of like Sex and the City, except without the stupid people acting like idiots. This time around, however, the girl in question has chosen to hold her birthday celebration outdoors at a park. Now, none of us has a problem with this; in fact, I'm rather excited about it. A Saturday afternoon, 80 degrees or so (so say the weather forecasters), plenty of sun, grass, and trees. Perhaps a frisbee or two. You get the idea.
I actually rather like the way that this friend has chosen to celebrate her birthday - I'm all about taking advantage of the fact that we live in paradise at the beginning of spring. I just spent four weeks back in the place in which I was raised - more or less in the dead of winter. I don't know how people do it; I'm a tropical chick, and I need my palm trees and sunshine.
When I was growing up, few of us liked the whole outdoors thing. I always liked activities like hiking, but I had a hard time convincing my friends to come along with me. It was too inconvenient, too sweaty, too outdoorsy for most of them. Even canoeing at the C&O Canal (the canal that runs parallel to the Potomac River in Washington, DC) was too much to ask of them.
On the last day of my ninth-grade biology class, my teacher gave us a warning: don't be a sun worshipper. Yeah, we've all heard the lectures on the effects of prolonged exposure to the sun, but most of us rarely listen, right? I'll admit to being a bit of a sun worshipper. And that doesn't bother me.
