Rosh Hashanah II - part II

Once i left Willy, i went back in Crown Heights for the question of the day.
No one asked for it in Willy. :-(

Father and son, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

My beloved Pupa shul, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

The Lubaba were everywhere asking people.

I expected to avoid "Are you Jewish?".

I bumped into one group first, but that was not the good moment for me. I have to print my flight ticket.
Procrastination makes me run, and multitask.

The man who cleaned the street, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

The man who cleaned the street, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

Once done, i was free to enjoy all these men.

3 men came to me.
One child, one in his early 20s, and a man in his 60s maybe.
They might have seen the Magen David.
"Did you hear the shofar today?"
How i loved that question!
"No."
That was them today that i wanted on my shofar-ic path.
And then, in the middle of an hipsters street, Franklin Ave, i repeated the blessing that he said.
And the old man blew the shofar.

Father and son, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Street conversation, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

Smoker and pigeons, Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Behind me, i noticed a black woman, probably too coy to join us. I liked the way she stood, looking at us. The hipsters ignore us for my biggest pleasure.
The little boy was shy, and didn't dare to smile.
The young man asked for my first name. And my accent betrayed me.
He used to study in Brunoy, where there is a famous yeshivah. He was surprised that i know this place.
He was so happy to speak French, but i switched in English because of his two co-shofar-er.

The most delightful moment was the big smile of the old man. Usually, the old generation avoids my look. I want to talk to them so much because of their long life story. And i tried so many times.
He blew the shofar a long time. Such a breath he had!

Voilà !
Last post from Brooklyn!
I killed my back by packing my stuffs.
My chumash and Magen David will travel in my cabin bag. And my poor cat is already terrified.

Holy conversation, holding their tallit, with different shtreimel,
Williamsburg, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Other last stories happened in Brooklyn before leaving, written from Paris, BH! :-)

Rosh Hashanah II

That day, He sent me two big signs.
I should say one big holy gift to start.
The second sign was in accordance with a test of my emotions.

I took the B62, and i stopped in Williamsburg when i felt that it might be a good stop.

I turned in Hooper street, and i heard voices of men.
That was the Kehilas Yetev Lev D'Satmar.

Man going to pray in the Satmar shul, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Apparently, there are two buildings.
My adrenaline was very high, and i walked fast, forgetting that i was a woman. That was His call.
I had to see that, before leaving NY.
This shul has a total capacity of 7,000 people. Imagine 7,000 Satmarers there for the afternoon prayer.
I had never seen these gorgeous tallits with silver.

Satmar shul, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Satmar shul, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Their prayer was different from the one of 770.
Despite they say the prayer like a song, they didn't actually sing. That was joyful.
I caught their attention, i was totally focused on them and the sound of the shul.
I had enough time to take two photos of the inside through the small window, before the Shabbos boy arrives with a Satmerer.
Spank, spank on my tushes!
No, no, they were nice. They were scared that i came inside and disturbed the prayer.
The Satmerer was not very friendly, but when i asked him if it was a Bobov, Pupa or Satmar shul, he changed his tone.
He understood that i was not just a troublemaker, though… But i have a deep interest, and felt that i was moved, and i was melting on the sidewalk.

The Satmarer davening outside, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

The Shabbos boy told me that i could go to the women section. I didn't want to go, i had a pocket book and lot of cash. Eh oui ! :-)
I was surrounded by children and ladies too looked at me.
I said to the Satmerer and the Shabbos boy that i will stay a little to listen to the prayer.
They only asked me for not taking photos.
A child stared at me, i smiled, but he thought that i came from another planet.
That was my first time that i met an official Shabbos boy. I was pretty jealous of his job.
He said to me that he works for them everyday. Not sure that he has understood my questions. He didn't seem interested by this culture. "Give me your job!", I wanted to scream.

Cutie rascals, i want them all, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Then, i left for a stroll in the deserted Williamsburg.
I had questions about the strollers that the ladies were pushing. I thought that it was forbidden for Rosh Hashanah. I asked a lady. She explained me the rules.

Hasidim from different sects according to their hat,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I went back to the street of the Satmar shul. I wanted to see them getting out of the shul. But it lasted more than i expected. I was thinking of this prayer during my long stroll which made me cry a little.

Two rascals in Hooper street, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I went to the Pupa shul where i used to go for Simchas Torah. The sukka was not built yet. I arrived when the ladies went out after the afternoon prayer.

I walked a lot, wandering in streets.

Father and son, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I want your tallit, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Williamsburg during high Holy Days,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I met a meshuga man who decided to clean the sidewalk and pushed dirty packs with his cane. He didn't notice that i was looking at him, taking photos. A Hasidic man saw him and he barely smiled when i smiled at him. I felt that he wanted to laugh.
I will post his photo later, and if someone can let me know which sect he is from, please. Thanks!

I followed these Belzer men because they were singing,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Satmarer, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I walked to the bus stop, and i waited a long time, taking photos of Hasidim who passed by.

Father and son, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Hasidim, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Most of the time, when i take photos, i try to be discreet. People are not stupid, i know.
During Rosh Hashanah, i am the only one with my phone in my hand.
I take photos without looking at them.

And then…

With a friend, we used to say about men wearing any kind of hats, that it is better to see who is hiding under their hat. Some men have a beautiful face with their hat. When they take it off, you may see another personality. 

As you know, i met many Satmerers, and i never bumped into one of them so far.

Maybe some of them saw me. I don't try to catch their attention in the streets.

But it had to happen.

During these three years, i met two jerks, two evil persons: one Lubaba and one Satmerer.

I am not going to share what happened with them, but He sent me these two persons on my road a last time.

The Satmerer asked me for not taking photos of him ever. I never did it.

I never saw him with the black grab and shtreimel indeed.

Usually, i am not a good physiognomist, but i remember some details of the person.

At this bus stop, i took photos of two men and two children.

One of the man looked at me intensively. Fortunately, i had sunglasses.

I saw his eyes, especially one, and i saw the fear in it.

That lasted less than one second, and i realized that i saw the devilish brain under this shtreimel.

That's very hard to explain because my emotions were very high. I followed him with my eyes. 

His way of walking and talking to his friend was quiet. That seemed different than when i used to hang out with him.

Later, in the bus, i checked the photos that i took of him.

That made me confused.

When i woke up the day after, i recognized him.

I will never post his photos. That's for my drawer for secrets. I respect his anonymity, despite what he did to me. What will it bring to me to take revenge? Nothing.

But, that was a good test! Maybe his punishment was at this second, when i recognized him, to have fear in his eyes and to think that i could get him into troubles by screaming his name… Whatever…

I feel sorry for this kind of bad persons with a life so stressful, and he has to live like a schizophrenic with all his lies. They are not even able to apologize sincerely!

The holy bus

These last days, i spend time with numbers: 770.
And the last one is 110.
What's that?
The B110.

Those who are not familiar with the Hasidic community, it's a bus, mainly for Hasidim.
The B110 belongs to a private company. It goes from Williamsburg to Boro Park and likewise in the opposite way.
It's an old bus. It's different from the Ohel bus: there are more peyos men.

My beloved rascals, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Three men in the wind, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I asked a woman at the stop if the bus was working all day. I scared her apparently. Or she didn't speak English.
I waited for it silently.
There it was! I closed my jacket, i didn't have a cleavage. But you could see my skin.

Two men from different sects shaking hands, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

A yellow alien, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Bouquet on the shoulder, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

The driver that day, was a Chinese man. He doesn't touch the money. You can't use your Metrocard, thus you pay $3, one way.
On my way back from Boro Park, the Chinese driver was connected to the radio, and replied to a man in Chinese. Some Chinese people speak very loud. He was speaking very loud. I didn't pay attention at the beginning. I thought it was a Hasidic who was talking on the phone in Yiddish. But the Chinese man couldn't stop speaking. Nobody asked him to shut up. I felt that the ones who were reading their holy book was irritated a little. They seem to get used to this driver.
Do you know this Yiddish joke?
"Mr. Cohen was amazed as the Chinese waiter in the kosher restaurant took his order in perfect Yiddish. At the end of the meal, he went over to the owner and asked him: "How did you ever get a Chinaman so dedicated to his job that he was willing to learn Yiddish?" "Sha!," answers the boss, "he thinks we're teaching him English."

Bochurim in B110, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

The women knew that i was not Hasidic. I was wearing black clothes but my hair and the way i dress betrayed me. They saw me sometimes taking photos.

Woman praying in B110, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Another beloved rascal, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Curling the peyos is an art, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

There are a few stops in Willy, then we took the highway. The bus was packed, for my biggest pleasure. All these peyos drove me crazy. I don't talk about my hormones, though!
A bochur stared at me many times. He was not scared of being seen. Me either! I wanted to smile at him, but if he smiles back, he might be into troubles.

I felt like in a shul. Some women were praying, talking to each other, or on the phone, eating… But i felt the holiness better than in 770.
Nobody asked me for tzedaka like in 770.
A first woman who sat besides me was praying.
I listened to the silence of Hashem.
The second one was with her baby. She was very cold, and i didn't feel her happy.

I took this bus, not knowing where my stop will be. I felt so well that i can stay all day in that bus.
When the woman saw me looking for the direction, she offered me her help. She smiled finally. She was probably tired with the baby. We went down at the same stop.

I spent time in Boro Park, in the Judaica store, looking at the books. They have a good choice of different Jewish subjects.

On my way back, the bus was less packed, so i could move on my two seats to take photos.

I felt disconnected of New York.
I imagined me in Yerushalayim.
I was smiling, when drivers on the highway look at the bus coming from hasidic outer space.

I like being where i can't be. You don't understand? I like being surrounded by a culture that i enjoy learning, knowing that i can't be one of them, i.e. Hasidic. Only Orthodox!
They don't bother me. I can bother them by taking photos.
Most of the time i don't know exactly what i take in photo. That's Hashem surprise.
I took many photos that day, but i post a few today.
Some from before i took the B110, then the bus.
In the next weeks, i will post the other ones from Boro Park and Willy again.

Shana Tova! 3 days without showering for you! :-)
I can hug you tonight, and maybe tomorrow morning.
Friday and Saturday, i will need oxygen. :-)
Love you guys, and Shana Tova! :-)

Honey peyos on Big Apple, september 2014, ©emmarubinstein

French Sephardi woman

I didn't want to spend too much time at 770 that day, last week, but i bumped into the Sephardi woman. I didn't recognize her. I think she changed her sheitel.
But she recognized me, and talked to me in French. Oups!

A Lubaba helped his brother to put the tefillin in the subway,
that was beautiful and magic! September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

She insisted once again a lot with my researches of my Jewish roots of my mother.
When i told her that my mom cooked latke recently, (we call them crique in French. She said: "She is Jewish."
She wanted me to buy a prayer book for my mother when i told her that she was not religious.
I am stubborn, but my mother is headstrong, i gave up some battles with her.
You can talk about Jewish things and Jewish men with my mom, but it's out of question to make her religious.

A little nap before the meshuganess of the High Holy Days,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

She had a bad experience with the Catholic church during the war. She hates priests and nuns.
She doesn't understand that, if there is a G-d, why this world is so in pain.
I could recommend her the book of my favorite rabbi, but she doesn't speak English.
I will lose this battle once again. :-)
After a certain age, there is no need to waste my time to convince her.
Let's cook Jewish, listen to Jewish music, and looking at hairy men…

Buddies on the hectic Eastern Parkway, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

This Sephardi woman is married to a Baal Teshuva. She likes the Viztnitz more than the Satmar. She lives in Montsey. She recommended me a book Suite Française. I saw that a movie has been made by Americans last year. I will read the book first.

The Satmarers that she knows don't want to listen to Matisyahu. They want to listen to traditional Yiddish music.
She has been for a Shabbos in a Satmar family in Willy. They asked her to wear a frisette with her sheitel. :-)

VIP, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I think that she is a BT too.

She gave me the name of his brother, rabbi, who lives in Israel. He is Orthodox but not Hasidic.
And the phone number of a matchmaker.
I think that my suitcase is full for my next future: rabbis, rebbetzin, matchmaker… Who else who wants to be on my list? :-)
My heart is big, there will be room for everyone who is nice before and after Yom Kippur. :-)

If you have seen the face of this woman when she talked about her love of Shabbos. That was awesome!

She introduced me to her daughter. Her French is not as good as her mother.
I think that it's a first time that i don't feel this sort of snag when you say that you are not 100% Jewish.
The way that some Jews spit on the Goyte hurts me a lot.
We always need a Goyte, or someone different from us.
A Shabbos boy for example.
I don't know how i will confirm my Jewishness soon, but i will make a promise to myself and according to the 9th Commandment and the mitzvot, to not spit on Goyte and on secular Jews. Ex Goyte who spit on Goyte are the most detestable persons.
Never deny where you come from, and who you were before becoming Jewish or BT!
For your remembrance:

Treatment of Gentiles

53. To love the stranger..
54. Not to wrong the stranger in speech.
55. Not to wrong the stranger in buying or selling.
56. Not to intermarry with gentiles.
57. To exact the debt of an alien.
58. To lend to an alien at interest.

Her daughter is in her twenties. She explained me that Jewish or not, Jewish neshama or not, we all have a mission on this earth. She said that i will find my mission in the Commandments.
She gave me a card with the seven commandments of Noah. I will find my mission on that card. :-)

I liked her maturity to see me first like a human being, who likes Orthodoxy, and my Jewish roots.
She has understood that i come to the shul not to laugh at people.
I admit, not to her, that some situation give me the giggles sometimes, but that's the same for you when you see meshuga gentiles situations.
She also said something very interesting: you can feel Jewish, but to be Jewish is more than a feeling. That's to follow the commandments, and to understand them.
When you read them, i understand that they are the basis of how to have a decent behavior and how to act properly with the other human beings.
That's funny that there are laws or commandments when you think that it should be obvious for anyone.
But when you look at this world, there are people who don't understand the price of a human life, for example.

Have you noticed that, each time, you leave a place, you meet the best persons? That always happened to me. And with some of them who crossed my road, i am still in touch with. Crazy world! We know who drives this world. :-)
He wants me to leave NY with a good image. :-)
The French Sephardi would have been a perfect 'coach' for me. I am totally lost with the prayers to say.
At 770, there are in Hebrew, but i could follow them if i know which page of book i have to read.
That will be one of the next steps on my path in Paris and Israel.
Women and some men see that i take photos. I try to be discreet and natural when i move my phone, but they are not stupid. :-)

For this Shemittah year, be nice with the Gentiles, and nicer with the ones who like your religion and culture. :-)

'Master and servant', in reference to a song by Depepche Mode,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Modesty

I prefer decency than modesty.
I am for the freedom of speech of the body.

That's not easy to understand that, for some Hasidic and frum men.

I had some conversations about this subject with them.

As you know, i refuse to leave my cleavage in my closet. Likewise for my sandals.
But it doesn't mean that i am disrespectful when i am going to the shul. :-)

I don't wear mini skirt or short. I have 3/4 or long sleeves. If my dress or skirt is too short, i wear a legging.

If i have to talk to someone, i look at him or her in her/his eyes, not his/her toes.
Copy that? :-)

Ahavas Chesed, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

What are they looking at?, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

But this constant speech by people who want to give me lessons about my modesty starts to annoy me.

A bochur wrote recently an article for Collive.com.
http://www.collive.com/show_news.rtx?id=31891&alias=a-bochurs-advice-to-girls#comments

His text doesn't sound to have been written by a young man. I felt mad at him indeed.
He didn't have the courage to sign with a real name!
Either he is virgin, either he is an old pervert man.
If he is a virgin, let's talk with him, once he will taste the flesh.

Two weeks later, a modest girl replied to him on the same website:
http://www.collive.com/show_news.rtx?id=32001&alias=a-girls-advice-to-bochurim

She slapped his face in this letter, and it was good to read it!

Before criticizing, Messieurs, clean up your own backyard!

Why do you think that Hashem asks women to hide their body?
Because of you, Messieurs, and your testosterone!

Rascalette on trotinette, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Shabbos evening service, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

I too admit that i look at men in the streets.
Mother Nature gave me eyes, so i enjoy their company, and looking at their eyes, their lips and the way they touch themselves.
But not the way you do it, Messieurs!
Not easy for you to look at our eyes when you have to dive in our cleavage.
The breasts don't talk! Did you know that? Our eyes will talk to you better.
Do women look at your cherries? Not really! :-)

Yes, we are supposed to make sacrifices by wearing modest clothes to avoid you to have an erection during a Shabbos service. :-)
But that's not enough, we have to do it in any context.
Hashem decided that to protect us from you.

Did you read what this modest girl said?
Even dressing modestly, you can't handle your testosterone on leash.

So what's the point now?

The ancestor dominating the Bochurim, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

A little rascal dominating his older brothers, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

If you want modest women, be modest yourself in the way you dress and in your behavior and acts.
When you have your eyes on our breasts, cleavage or not, be more discreet! I saw you! :-)

Do you know how many men like being naked to compare their body and also mister P.?
That's a funny game! But only for you! Not for me!

At 770, i observed the girls jumping above the table. They hold their dresses not to show their undies covered by thick tights. There was something elegant in the way they did it. But we were between women, and we have all the same sexual attributes. Hidden by 2 coats of clothes, it should be fine.
Maybe that's because of the cameras, and some pervert is watching the ladies! :-)


I used to be more "modest" when i was younger.
And i lived a nightmare.
It was during my first time in Istanbul. We were covered because of the visits of mosques.
I have been there three times and, each time, the experience was different.
We were 6 people (5 girls, one boy).
The inhabitants of this city can't stop touching us, the women.
But i think that the male friend too has been touched once.
The bus were packed and to feel a hand touching me all the time was annoying.
I didn't count either how many slaps and pinching out that i received on my tushes.

After 4 days, four of our friends left for Cappadocia.
We were two girls in the city.
We were on our nerves: honk honk of the cabs, the dirt of the city, and the men who behaved like perverts.
One guy said to my friend in the street: "I want to f*** you".
A young man of 15 years old followed us and talked to us during one hour in the streets.
The bellboy in the hotel harassed me to bring me tea and sweets in my room. I said no, and each time, he knocked on the door. I had to throw him away! He was always very close to me in the elevator to touch me.

I actually like Istanbul. That's a beautiful city, rich of history.
Our hotel was in a street full of restaurants. They put the TV outside to watch soccer games. And also they spied us all the time.
One server insisted a lot to hang out with me in a nightclub. I replied all the time: "Maybe".
He replied: "The French always say maybe which means 'no'. The German women say yes." German woman has the reputation to be an easy girl in Istanbul.
When we got out of the hotel, we checked if he was not there.
One day, i decided to revenge. I poured, at night, a glass of water on the men, by the window.
They spied us more and more. Bad idea! :-)

Unfortunately, we bumped into the server who lived around our hotel. He offered us a boat trip for a few hours.
We were cautious, but we went with him to see what kind of boat it was.
That was a sort of boat for tourists.
My friend, who traveled with me has the same roots than me.
She is also like me, she defends the rights of the women. :-)
On the boat, we met a very nice couple from Saudi Arabia.
Then, we stopped at a cafe, along the Bosphorus.
The boat trip was amazing. Istanbul is incredible.
I love terraces along the water.
The couple offered us a drink. My friend and I remained quiet, but the water was boiling inside us.
Each time, we talked to the wife, she turned her head to have the approval of her husband.
Once we were back, we talked about that with my friend, that never, we would like to live with a man like that. Both of us, we don't shut our mouth, thus there will be too many fights with a husband like that.
We felt sorry for this woman. But that's their culture.

The second time was for a seminar. That was better because it was the winter, and Ramadan.
They can't focused on pinching our tushes, they think of food. At the sundown, you can enjoy the city.
Everyone is eating, our tushes were free to move around.

Modest or not, you have something in your blood, that women handle differently.

Show the example, and we will follow you!

That's your problem, not ours. 

Start first! :-)

Cute daddy playing with his children, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Sharing

Yesterday, i wanted to share my love of the 770 with my Russian friend who is in her mid 60s.
We like going for a walk and talking about life, experiences of life…

She is Jewish, married twice with 5 kids. Her first husband was not a bad man, but she got married too young and was not ready for life.
The second one was an horrible person.
She hates USA and wants to leave this country and live in a place where there are not American people.
I understand what she feels because i didn't find my place here.
I am grey and i met black and white. Black for my very bad experience in business, and white  for the holiness that i met with my roots. Not to say that my experience with Hasidic men was totally pink like in a Barbie world, but i find myself. That's a new beginning, and i will start a new beginning in Paris, then in Israel, then where?
If geographically, i am not stable for now, i find stability in my Jewish experiences since i am in NY.
I find a good balance between the black and the white.
My path is not made of sand but of stones. I killed many shoes on the NY pavement, like a symbol of my soul.

Sunday charity, outside 770, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Sunday, around 770, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Hand on holy book in the street, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

After our walk, she had some errands to do. I showed her a cheese store where i have never been.
She is like me, spontaneous.
Once inside, the call of a tradition baguette and the cheese drove me crazy.
We bought cheese and baguette and went to her place where she had red wine.
One of her son lives with her, and we enjoy this unexpected meal. I don't have lunch usually, thus i was very hungry and i craved more the cheese on the baguette.
His son was drunk, i was not.
We went for an evening walk which led us to 770. Her son was happy to go there. They live in CH since a long time and they have never been inside.
Same for her, even if her son received a letter from the famous rebbe.
They see themselves as atheists. She tried to come back to religion, but her life was very painful, and to support all her children was very hard for a single mom.
She was not sure to come inside with me, because of her clothes. I still had my sandals and a cleavage, so i was not better than her.

I told his son to go in the middle of the room where we can see him from above.
He was not wearing black clothes, indeed, thus he will be easy to find.
He didn't show up, so we went out.
Maybe because he was drunk, he felt lost and could not find his way. He bumped into a Hasidic who looked at him weirdly. He apologized in Hebrew, the man got back to his studies.

To convince her to come inside, i told her to make a wish for her first time in this holy temple.
I didn't expect to wake up some holy feelings, but she didn't feel comfortable inside.
I don't know all her Jewish experiences, but i learned something for myself.
I am not able to share what i feel in 770 with someone who has no more connection to Hashem.
She knows all these things, but she is not close to that culture. She used to live in Israel but her Hebrew is so so now.
His son enjoyed the experience a little better. He used to daven in shul when he was a kid.
He would experiment a Shabbos service perhaps.
She thought that she will bother these women.
It's not that they don't pay attention to who is coming inside but, if you remain quiet, everything will be fine with these women.

I am a solivagant in this Hasidic world and yesterday, i actually feel that i can't do in another way. I need to be alone. I can share my story and, listen to the stories of Hasidic men, ex Hasidic, atheist, ex Jew. But if i want to feel the devotion, if i want to build my connection to Him, i have to be alone. That's a justified selfishness.
That was not an experience but a sort of a cross-experience.
What we did was too spontaneous, and she didn't see this 'experience' as i saw it. She added something spiritual when i saw her first visit like a touristic visit of her neighborhood. We didn't have the same expectations.

My other issues when i am going to this shul: i am disturbed by my constant attraction to the men section. I am fascinated by the way they pray, curious what they are talking about, their interrogations about the holy book… I like learning about different things, and i am intrigued by the study of one book… I understand the need to study it because i have a little better knowledge now.
I can't focus on the book of prayers because of my various distractions. I need to find a good balance, to dive in a book of prayer, to understand what i am reading, to avoid the little voices around me, to avoid my constant curiosity… I have to accept it like a part of my nature to scan and to be in observation all the time. But i have to focus more and more.
In Paris, i used to read a lot in transportation. In NY, i never did it. I have to look at people not to miss something.
My child side came back to my face here. I was a coy teenager, i had to take theater classes to feel comfortable to talk in public. I am still bashful. NY helped me not to be scared to talk to strangers.

Now, i need to find other holy people who i can have a connection with, without being frustrated, annoyed, forced, asked for money… to share what i am living at 770, and what i will share in the different shuls in this world during my future journeys.

I know that He knows where it is. He is just playing with me a little more. :-)

I took some habits, and yesterday, i took a photo of a Chabad young man doing a selfie with a bonsai.
That was funny and we exchanged a big smile to each other.
Even with Hasidim, i feel that i can talk to them like all buddies. I am forgetting that there is a gap between me and them. For me, that's positive, i am not sure for them. :-)

Selfie with bonsai, BBG, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

770 videos

I am not sure that Hasidim/Frum will be interested by this kind of videos.
But i know a few non Hasidic, non Jewish who might be interested, like me. :-)

Don't be scared, we don't want to strangle you with your tefillin. :-)
I adore you!

-"What color?"
- "Black"
- "I got what you need."
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Shabbos:
- I was still a good Jew, because you can hear the siren.
I could use electricity and don't be blamed for that, not yet.
I was at the women entry for this video.
You need good headphones to hear the Shabbos siren.

- They start to daven. Someone can explain me why you shake your body like that.
Is it an habit? Do you feel Hashem better? If so, i need to shake mine too! :-)
Or do you have fruits under your black hat? :-)
Women don't really shake. There is a sort of grace.

- My favorite moment. The video doesn't show it, but i like the quietude of this moment of daven. I like the field of the black hats before they sit.
Unfortunately, some women can't stop talking. You can hear a background sound of 'shhhhhh' in the women section. That's annoying and disturbing for me!

Sunday afternoon prayer:
- No, it's not a turtle walking on a beach, looking for its eggs. :-)
That's a man with a tallit and tefillin, davening.
I don't know if the way he walks means something.
I like when he kisses the tefillin like we kiss the mezuzah. Except that he touches his lips first then the tefillin.

- No, it's not a blood test.
That's a man putting his tefillin. :-)
You can learn how to do it if you go to the Mitzvah Tank Bus.
I didn't dare to ask the rabbi. He might call the 911 and send me to a psychiatry institute.

- The rabbi and Sunday charity:
I have goose bumps each time they sing.
A man saw me, filming the scene.
Pity that i haven't seen him at this moment to send a hi back. :-)

- The dance of the flag.
Messiah arrives on the dance-floor. Watch out! :-)

Crown Heights immersion

Final straight before jumping above the Atlantic Ocean.

My brain is growing, and my skull is too small = headaches.

Last Friday, i was at the 770 for the Shabbos service: my headache conjured away, devotedly.
I arrived between the two sirens of Shabbos. I thought that the sound of the siren came from 770. But not!
I took photos during the service. I was a bad Jew to do that. But i enjoy these last moments there, and i want to keep some souvenirs. Nobody saw me. :-)
The shul was packed. The ladies section was mainly full with little girls and teenagers.
A few ladies were there. They were all dressed up. They looked at me with my cleavage and sandals.
I didn't think tzniut when i heard the sound of the first siren. I ran out of the apartment.
If i feel a weird glance, i smile like an idiot. :-)
Let me enjoy the devotion, ladies!
I saw some men who were there to converse with their friends, not really there for davening. :-)
Everyone is relaxed for Shabbos!

The death of the Challah before Shabbos, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Running for Shabbos, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Tushes, bike for Shabbos, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Shabbos service, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

A visitor from Spain, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

The crowded 770 for Shabbos, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Outside 770, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

Outside 770, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

On his way to a Shabbos meal, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

As you know, i enjoy this shul, but each time, there is a new lady, speaking French, who is stuck to me.
They follow me, inside and outside.

Last week, i was meeting my Hasidic nephew for the first time.
A Sephardi French lady started to talk to me. She was gentle, but she couldn't stop talking despite i told her that my friend was there. She gave me the name of a rabbi who works at the Consistory in Paris.
He could help me to find my Jewish roots from my mother lineage.
And, she asked me for money. Honestly, these ladies pisses me off now. Leave me alone with your pushka, please!

I too saw the same lady of the blessing of the other day. She ran after me to give me the book of prayers.
I was outside with the Sephardi French lady, the book of prayer in hands, and my Hasidic nephew.
If i could, i would jump with him in his stroller, and sleep, arms up, not to see this world.
The lady left me alone finally. But she was persistent with the money, and i asked her for giving me the address of the website of the book, and i will have a look.
In France, ask for money all the time is very rude!

We barely talked. The mother of my nephew had to go to a doctor appointment. The nephew had a bris the Sunday before. She has to check if his zizi is fine. :-)
We met up yesterday because there was a Kosher block party on Kingston Avenue. I wanted to go, and she wanted to say hi, and that i take photos. She recognized people on the photos that i took all the time. She is discreet, thus she doesn't tell me who they are. She laughs when there are some guys sleeping at the shul.
Nothing serious, everybody can see them sleeping.
This Kosher block party was crowded with rascals and their stroller. I spent a long time there, and around.

I have been twice to the shul that day.
The second time was for the afternoon prayer and the rabbi was there for the 'dance' of the Sunday charity.
My mind was tired, and i saw a man who was holding a baby. I thought that it might be a bris. I am going to faint, but i could not move. On the table of the rabbi, the men were taking and putting money.
I asked a lady finally about what was going on downstairs. She explained to me.

Before leaving, i have been to Chocolatte. There was a red haired young man, and i took his photo frontally. I blushed when he saw me. But we smiled at each other. He was Hasidic and was with a friend, Jewish but not Hasidic apparently. I explained that i like red hair and he had amazing colors. His hair was ginger, and his beard red. His eyelashes are ginger too, and his has blue eyes. 100% organic red hair!
I talked a little with his friend. He is from South America, and lives in Crown Heights. He is not shomer, he shook my hands twice. The red haired man came to me before leaving. He was worried about the photo. I wanted to show it to him. He said that it was fine if i don't show it online.
Thus, you will never see his face. I respect his privacy. I too have been punished by Him, above my head: the photo is blur. That's for my personal collection of red hair. :-)

I will post videos later, only photos for now. Be nice, Hashem is watching you if you are doing a good introspection. :-)

Kosher Block Party, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Are you looking for a sukka? This is your man,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

Balloon and Barbapapa* (*beardofdaddy),
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

Chabad street art by kids, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Rascals, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Such a beard, yummy!, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Mom and son. Very touching how close they were to each other,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

"Tzedaka", September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Rascals, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

A visitor from Willy or Boro Park,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Oh!, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

Trying to hide his black hat, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

A red haired visitor, very cute peyos,
September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

The rabbi and charity, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein 

A flag in 770, September 2014, ©emmarubinstein

What is it written on the flag? Thanks for your reply! :-)