If i made the choice of becoming Hasidic, how should i have to organize my new life?
It will be like learning a new language with new letters which don't belong to the Latin alphabet.
The first time i wrote Russian, i was like a little girl on an elementary school bench.
I didn't know how to hold my pen and, to draw the good proportions of letters.
Yiddish is more fluid, though…
Opening my eyes and starting to pray and thank D-g that i can feel my heart beating…
I have other fish to fry (in French we say to have other cats to whip) in the morning…
I need 15 minutes to get out of my beloved bed. 15 minutes which can be fatale to make me fall asleep deeply.
I like stretching my body, playing with my cat for a last cuddle before leaving her alone all day…
She is a sort of cat radio, she whispers in my ear what she wants for a Kosher breakfast…
I will have to saw off my beloved queen bed for a kid bed: no way!
Opening my hands and holding the vaser to wash them.
No more water, the cat drank it during the night.
Let's go to the faucet.
I wash my hands all the time without thinking it could be compulsory.
I would enjoy having a tefillin on my forehead. The first time i saw it, it was at the Western Wall.
I thought it was a pre-inked stamp. I couldn't jump over the fence to ask the man, and also to touch it.
My friend explained me what it was. I was fascinated and stared at the man.
There is something very intimate between the man and his tefillin. The tefillin reads his soul and deep secrets.
I already asked some Hasidim to show me their tefillin. They didn't want me to touch it.
And they forgot to bring it to me. So, the tefillin remains a mysterious little black box full of secrets.
Opening the fridge and starting to lick my chops,
An American fridge without French cheeses has no right in the kitchen.
A Kosher French fridge will be easy to organize.
A Kosher kitchen is already there.
I don't kill animals to eat them.
Dairy, vegetables, fruits, seeds…
Toasted French baguette, a plate of cheeses
My French palate is already pleased.
My taste buds are drooling.
I am imagining myself sitting at a Parisian terrace with the tefillin, ordering a plate of French cheeses with a toasted French baguette.
Wake up! That's Brooklyn, and i have to check the eggs if there is no blood… The preparation seems a big work.
I am not very fond of cooking, i prefer to read the book of recipes.
My mom cooks very well, so that's always a pleasure to be served by her.
A man who cooks for ladies, i always found it very sexy, maybe sexy by laziness… :-)
Don't you have foodgasm? I have sometimes… :-)
The bathroom: to see my shaved hair in the mirror would be a nightmare. Nobody will touch my hair with scissors or a razor. I like long hair and having some peyos sometimes. My hair curls naturally and when i was toddler, i had what we call in France, anglaises* (*English but the translation is ringlets). My ringlets looked like peyos.
When i was a little girl, i had the habits to run away from my mom to talk to strangers who were different from me. I asked many questions and gave them some advices. Once, we were in a train to go to vacation. In our car where we will sleep, two nuns were there. I was intrigued by them, and i bothered them a lot. I didn't understand why they were going to sleep with their hat. I asked them why, and advised to take their hat off to be more comfortable. According to my mom, they were not really friendly but they tried to explain it to me. :-)
My mom was always embarrassed, but most of the time the strangers were very nice with me.
If only, in this train, it would have been a Hasidic family very friendly, i think i had already touched the peyos of the little boy. And I made him touch mine too. :-)
I had a secret to tell you too: i was 5 and i was in the bathroom at the school that we shared with the boys. I had already a boyfriend, C., and he was my first love. Love has no age!
And i helped him to pee. Someone from the school saw us, and our parents have been informed. My mom didn't care that much. We were kids.
We have been separated during our years of elementary school. We cried a lot the last day of school. :-(
In high school, we have been in the same class. We never forgot what happened this day but we never talked about that: we were teenagers. The attraction to each other was gone, but we were very good friends. He was a very good student, and i was more focused on laughing and chatting up than studying.
After high school, no news during many years.
I googled his name and found him. He lives in New Caledonia.
A big party had been organized by friends from high school in 2007.
C. was on vacation in France and will probably come by to the party. Something clicked in my mind: i thought he was probably gay. I had never seen him with girls in high school, and my intuition is pretty good for this kind of stuff.
Once he was at the entry, that was so obvious. He never told me but i know. :-)
And i will never tease him with that, because it doesn't matter: i like him because he is the same man, nice, sweet, and gentlemanly that i knew when i was younger. I am just proud to have been the first and probably the last woman in his life. :-)
And he doesn't have peyos!
My second boyfriend was in elementary school with me and, he was Jewish. It will be for another post! :-)
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