Perhaps other people are right sometimes

As you can gather from all of my past posts, I'm pretty particular in my davening preferences. In general, I prefer minyanim where different people are leading services rather than having the same person lead every week, even if said person is good. Part of it is that I like to lead services, so if that someone isn't me I don't get a chance to lead, and part of it is that I think it can get boring to have the same person leading, and I like variety.

This past Shabbat I was at services. Person x said "[The Knitter of Shiny Things] should lead kabbalat Shabbat because I like it when she leads... I hope you don't mind me volunteering you. I'm going to continue to volunteer you every week."

Me: I'm happy to lead kabbalat Shabbat or ma'ariv, but I don't want to lead both of them. Maybe I should do ma'ariv, though, since I've been doing kabbalat Shabbat a lot.
(I actually did want to do ma'ariv in this case)
Person Y: I volunteered to do ma'ariv if we need me to, but I'd rather not lead anything.
Person Z: I can lead kabbalat Shabbat.

So we ended up with person Z leading kabbalat Shabbat, me leading ma'ariv, and person Y not leading anything (and person x not leading anything as well). My thought was that even though I think I'm good at leading kabbalat shabbat, perhaps others want to lead it and should have the chance to do so.

Except that person Z lacked energy, and there was this whole Lecha Dodi fiasco where they used tune A for the first half, switched to tune B which actually has 3 different tunes in it, and then in the middle of tune B, since they must not have known all of it, instead of doing tune B1, tune B2, tune B3 and tune B2 again they did B1, A, A, and B2. (i.e. as they switched back to the original tune they were using for the first half of Lecha Dodi, except for the last verse.) Which threw people off a bit. Also they sang in a high range which was really hard for the rest of us to sing in.

Then I led ma'ariv and did a fine job of it. (Though at the end of Yigdal I really needed a drink of water and I was having trouble singing it without coughing.)

But had we followed person x, I would have led kabbalat shabbat and done a fine job of it, and person z would have led ma'ariv and also have done a fine job of it.

I'm not saying that I'm the best person in the world at leading kabbalat Shabbat. I'm not even saying that I'm the best in the community. And there are other people around here (who are also J-bloggers and are probably reading this post and know who they are) who are good at leading kabbalat Shabbat. (They were not present this weekend.) They would lead it with less singing than I do, but they would sing most things. (Actually, person z did a lot of lai lais, which is something I normally *don't* do, unless the congregation is really pushing for it. Person z was the one who was instigating the lai lais. Lai lais are fine when people have energy, but if they don't, lai lais can be pretty darn painful.) As far as I'm concerned, both of them are equally good at leading kabbalat shabbat as I am. I just like to lead it more than at least one of them does, so I usually end up doing it if it's the three of us.

But there are some times when people lead and I think "I could do better than them!" And since there's no way of knowing ahead of time who these people are, perhaps I should lead kabbalat shabbat whenever the people who I know are good at leading it aren't there. And I don't go there every week, which means I'm not leading every week. I just feel like I might be doing the same thing to others that annoys me when people do it to me. But better that than sad kabbalat shabbat, right?

So after services I told person x that I saw the wisdom in her ways.

Autopilot

Many times when I'm davening, I go on autopilot. I stop thinking about what I'm doing, and yet the right words still come out of my mouth. I can even do this while I'm leading something I'm extremely familiar with, such as kabbalat Shabbat or [Shabbat] ma'ariv. I don't even do this on purpose; it just sorta happens. I feel like I'm on a ride of some sort--experiencing the forward motion of the service, and yet not actually making myself do anything.

If I had written this post a week ago, I could have talked about how the auto-pilot never leads me astray.

Enter this past Shabbat: I was leading kabbalat Shabbat and ma'ariv. When I got to lecha dodi, I did a tune which required a bit of thinking to make sure I stayed in the correct key. Which was all well and good, but I ended up skipping the second verse! By the time I realized my mistake I was already a line or so into it, and rather than restarting, I just continued. I think I was okay, since there's no actual halachic obligation involved. I was "economizing" so that I could sing other things.

But usually this doesn't happen. I once started a random lecha dodi tune that I hadn't intended to sing, but it was a good tune and no one knew better, and that time I didn't skip anything. I think this time it was because I was focusing so much on not screwing up the melody. I also got thrown off because what I normally sing might be part harmony, and I had to figure out what the actual melody was. Maybe I should prepare these things more in advance...

I also led slichot. Slichot was hard. I at least knew the nuisach and where to say things out loud, and got a hold of a slichot book with actual directions in it. I even learned the melody for one of the piyutim in time. (I had wanted to put other ones to tunes, but the meter is so irregular that it would have been too much trouble/would have involved scrunching lots of syllables into one syllable, which is never a good idea.) And I got to use my shinier/more elaborate high holiday nuisach for everything which overlapped with other services. And I faked the chazti kaddish tune well. I stumbled over some of the Hebrew, but everyone was stumbling over that Hebrew. People said I did a good job, so I'll just go ahead and believe them.

Sketchy Hekschers

I live in a house with a bunch of other people, where we have kosher kitchens and communal food and dishes and whatnot. The last of our housemates to arrive has somewhat higher standards of kashrut, so we had to toivel the dishes (immerse them in a ritual bath) and get rid of things with hekschers that our new housemate didn't hold by, a.k.a. "sketchy hekschers."

So what are these sketchy hekscherim? (Why) are they sketchy?

In some cases, they are "sketchy" because they aren't on the lists that certain rabbis put out of acceptable hekscherim. Theoretically one could look into them by asking certain rabbis certain questions, and it could turn out that they are fine. They might not be on the list because they are small or new and unheard of.

Sometimes it's due to political stuff, where maybe the head rabbi does something that other rabbis don't approve of, and even if it doesn't have anything to do with food (like, say, riding Shabbat elevators) they think that the rabbi can't be trusted with food. Or maybe they just don't like him.

Sometimes it's due to actual practices, where the rabbis might certify something that is produced on the same lines as something else and maybe you can't really be sure of whether or not they have adequately cleaned the equipment. Or maybe they certify restaurants that are owned on the Sabbath. Or something else entirely.

Why do we have sketchy hekschers? Sometimes there actually will be a scandal, and then the hekscher can't be trusted anymore. Which then ruins it for the rest of us, who would really like to be able to use this food. And then that begs the question of why companies will get sketchy hekschers in the first place. The best example I can think of is certain well-known brand of cheese that has cheddar that most of the year is under a sketchy hekscher, but around passover they produce cheddar with certification from a much more respected institution. They know that one is better regarded than the other, and yet they use the sketchy one the rest of the year.

I guess it must be economics. Sketchy hekshers know that they are sketchy, and therefore charge less money. Or they might be more willing to be affordable for small companies that can't afford to be certified by the O-U or Star K.

But I feel like if a rabbi is going through all of the effort to inspect something, it should be kosher. Wouldn't that make sense? I often do hold by things that might be considered sketchy by others, a certainly a good deal of things not on the relevant lists. I have a stricter standard for my own house, but in cases where I'm visiting friends and it's hard to procure kosher food as is, I'm willing to rely on sketchiness. How sketchy could it be?

In some cases, giving them up shouldn't be too much of a problem, but there are certain foods that I really like which have sketchy hekschers. Though it may be a moot point, since we might have a kitchen for sketchy hekschers, since there are 3 kitchens.

Tisha B'Av and perhaps starting up the blog again

I have not updated this blog in forever. At first it was being busy with finals and whatnot, and then I sort of forgot about the blog, and then I had nothing to say, and then I figured if I never updated then no one would be reading it anymore, and why bother. I think now with school being over and with my current state of unemployment, now would be the perfect time to start blogging again.

Part of the problem was that my Judaism is pretty stable right now. I've had a lot less desire to make it to davening every week, and have opted instead for making lots of Friday night dinners. Saturdays became days of D&D, which happened at my house since I was the only one who was shomeret Shabbat, and thus no morning services.

There were a few causes of my decline in davening. Part of it was that last year I had lots of friends with futons. I would go to services at SCM, then go to gaming with my friends, stay over, and then go to services in the morning, where I was usually leining or leading one of the services. Those friends with futons graduated, so that made it a bit harder to go to SCM. I've since moved closer to campus, so if I want to start up again in the fall, it will be much easier, even without the friends with futons.

The other main reason is probably the fact that I don't need to go to services to have singing in my life. Last fall I joined a Jewish a cappella group, so I get a chance to sing twice a week at rehearsals. At first I didn't make the connection between davening and a cappella-ness, but when I finally figured it out it made a lot of sense.

Over the sumemr I've been a bit better about services. I live 2 blocks away from shul, so it is easy to roll out of bed and over to services. I've done some leining for them, too. And kiddush gives me a source of lunch.

And then we come to tonight, which is Tisha B'Av, everyone's favorite depressing fast day. I will be reading chapter 3 of Eicha (Lamentations). This is my favorite chapter because it is completely different. It also doesn't follow trope, so I do not need a tikkun to read it. Which is good, because I haven't unpacked my Tikkun yet. The past few times I leined I borrowed a Tikkun from shul, but I really should just find my own. It's in the house somewhere, in one of the many boxes we still have lying around.

And normally tomorrow there would be some post about me being bored to death and wanting to knit or something. This year I'm actually flying to Guatemala on the day of Tisha B'Av. I don't mind the not eating part, but not being able to drink water will be miserable. As a compromise, I've decided to allow myself to knit on the plane. If I get very dizzy I'll allow myself a small sip of water (under 1 oz.) every 10 minutes. I should try to drink as much as I can now before the fast starts, though.

And the plus side is that I get to end my fast almost an hour early. The fast ends here at 8:43 PM. In Guatemala it ends at 7:05, which is actually 8:05 EST since they are in Central, but 8:05 is still earlier than 8:43.

We'll see how hard it will be to find stuff to eat in Guatemala. I'll be going to Chabad for Shabbat, and they will have real food. Apparently they also make and delive packaged meals, but I'm not sure how good quality those will be. I might just eat a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables.

Also, it is pretty much impossible to find a modest bathing suit in a store. I ended up with something semi-reasonable which at least covers my entire stomach, but I might wear a t-shirt over it or something. Or I might just not go swimming. I've been happily not swimming on vacations for a long time now. If we were going to my cousin's river house with the wave runners and awesome view I would be more tempted, but apparently Guatemala is not the safest place to be right now, and the only swimming we'll be doing is in the hotel pool.

A meme (or two)

I don't usually post memes on this blog, but I was tagged by Katrina for these two memes, and I'm procrastinating, so here goes:

Meme the first:

Pick up the nearest book to you, turn to page 56, and post the 2nd-5th sentences.

So I actually have a book open from a paper I'm working on: Women’s Work: The first 20,000 years by Elizabeth Wayland Barber. It's on textile production and is useful.


(In this area, the Neolithic, or New Stone Age, last shortly from after 6000 BC to the introduction of metal, around 3000 BC.) We have such statuettes from various parts of Ukraine and the Balkans (fig. 2.5 b-d). In Denmark and northern Germany, moreover, in addition to figurines, we have the remains of string skirts on the bodies of young women buried in log coffins during the Bronze Age, late in the second millennium B.C. One of these skirts (fig. 2.6), made of woolen cords stained a rich brown by the acidic groundwater that preserved it, is complete; we can inspect its mode of manufacture.

I guess this is not so exciting to the average person. And I'm too lazy to scan in the figures.

Meme the second: State 7 facts about yourself, and then tag other people and link to them and leave a comment in their blog saying they've been tagged.

1. I've visited Israel 9 times in my life.

2. I currently have an artifact (or three) on display at the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. Granted, they are hidden way in the back of the 4th floor in the teaching gallery, but they are definitely there.

3. When I was younger, when I ate tri-colored pasta, I would first eat the green noodles, then the orange ones, and then the white ones. Occasionally I still do this.

4. I've spun wool from an alpaca I actually got to meet.

5. I'm addicted to Lindt's Lindor truffles. Particularly the dark chocolate ones. And I like the little square ones better than the big spherical ones, because the texture is slightly different. Though really, I like them all. Unfortunately Lindt is not hekshered in the U.S. (I'm pretty sure they're kosher in Switzerland). But it's one of those unhekshered things I will eat.

6. I've never actually owned a pair of gloves that fit. (I've been meaning to finally knit myself a pair, but this has not yet happened. I still have to make mittens first, since they're easier and would be good practice. Also, I'd have to modify whatever pattern I'd be using, so it's a bit intimidating.)

7. When I was in middle school, my best friend and I invented an alphabet which we used to write each other notes. We both became fluent in writing and reading it. Years later I taught it to another close friend, who still has it memorized (I don't think I could recreate it if I tried.) Becoming fluent in this alphabet was probably the only useful thing I did in middle school.

I don't much believe in tagging, so whoever wants to do this meme can do it.

And to those who celebrate it, Happy New Year!

Can Someone Please Explain this Minhag to Me?

I was reading Torah at a shul this morning that I don't normally daven at (it's one of the shuls my family davens at). They have an interesting take on the tradition of telling someone "yasher koach¹" and shaking their hand after they've either received an honor or have led/read something. The normal tradition is that the people around the honoree at the bima will shake his/her hand, and then also sometimes people will shake his/her hand after he/she walks by them on the way back to his/her seat.

So at this shul, people will deliberately go up to people and stick out their hand so you'll give them a "yasher koach."

To me, this seems a bit tacky. I'm all for saying yasher koach and shaking hands, but I feel like it's weird to be going around asking people to congratulate² you. As you're praying, suddenly you're confronted with a hand right in front of your face, and you have to stop whatever you're doing and shake that hand or risk looking like a horrible mean person.

I guess my point is that praise is something that should be bestowed, not something that should be sought. And this is the only shul I've ever been to which has the minhag. And I knew it was coming, but it never fails to make me feel uncomfortable.

(For the record, after I read, I went straight back to my seat, and did not go around to everyone asking them to say "yasher koach.")

¹This translates roughly to "good job!"
² As I was typing the word "congratulations" it made me think of cake wrecks, which is one of the most hilarious blogs ever. Specifically, see this post

It's been a while

Up until this morning, I hadn't been in shul for over a month, due to sickness and schedule insanity (mostly sickness, though).

I had one of those moments where I almost forgot my Hebrew name, despite the fact that I had a couple of minutes between when I was given the aliyah and when I went up for it, and I actually went over it in my head. How sad is that?

Also, they sang aleinu this morning. At weekday minyan. I can understand singing acheinu/relevant song during gelilah, since some people take longer than others at wrapping the Torah. But aleinu? At the end of services when everyone wants/needs to run off to class, or to work, or to do work, or to sit around and pretend to do work but really be blogging? When the chazzan started I didn't sing, but then everyone else joined in. I think the congregation should have revolted. (At least it wasn't singing aleinu at ma'ariv after Yom Kippur... That service was painful. If you want to sing a service, don't lead ma'ariv after Yom Kippur. Lead ma'ariv after Rosh Hashana, or after Shabbat or something; not before everyone is about to break a fast!)

And I was thinking about asking whether or not I had been sick enough that I should have bentsched gomel.¹ But I didn't ask, and thus didn't bentsch gomel.


¹Birkat HaGomel is what you say if you've survived a dangerous/life-threatening event. However, the definition of "dangerous" is pretty loose. Some people have the custom of saying it if they've been on a long flight (like to Israel). I don't think my illness was life-threatening, though it probably was more dangerous than traveling to Israel. Maybe I should talk to a rabbi. Though it probably is too late to say it now. Or not. Also, I'm still not 100% recovered, just better enough to go to services...