The End-Stonia.

Where am I? Where have I been? Where am I going? These questions keep smacking me in the face when I look up, open my eyes, and shake my head in total disbelief that I am where I am…and where I’ve been is in the past.

I was in Estonia 3 weeks ago. I was crying my not-so-tiny heart out on my friend’s shoulders in Latvia on August 23^rd. I was in Dallas with my mom, my family, and friends not even 2 weeks ago. And here I am, September 15^th, a week and half into living in New York, one week of work under my belt, and gearing up to leave for Washington D.C. for my first work-related trip tomorrow.

Where am I?

At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.

But really: In some sort of whirlwind. That’s’ for sure. The thing is… I know who I am and what I’m doing more than ever…those two align seamlessly. And yet, the people surrounding me make it all feel like home. So when I look up at the tiny Spanish bodegas on my street corner in Brooklyn, or hear Russian whiz past me as I stroll through Central Park…it just all feels right. Like it was meant to be. Or rather, I made it be.

And I’ve gathered that I am where I am – not because of where I’ve been, but what I’ve done with where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, what I’ve felt.

I refuse to speak of Estonia in the past-tense, I’m not quite ready to let Estonia go back there. I’m holding onto it, trying to keep the memories active and buzzing – the people within arms-length. Or Skype-reach. I can’t, yet, dig deep into the year and all that it has meant to me – I want to sum it up and say “it’s meant everything”, but it filled certain holes, specific places that needed filling. Places that have made me more me. I am more me.

I feel good.

My heart literally tightens at the thought of the beautiful, giving, and fantastically special people in the Baltics. Thinking of them can turn a 45-minute subway ride into 5-minutes. And yes, hearing Russian in public spaces could not give me more joy than a CLIF bar and a vanilla latte. That’s big joy.

Getting messages from my kids saying, “We miss you”, “We love you”, “Our meeting was not the same without you” – Yeah, that kills me. These kids who are across the ocean, touching Russia, a ferry-ride from Finland, these kids think of me? They have to know how much I think of them – holding back my love for them was never an issue.

And these thoughts, these images hit me differently. Most times I’m sad knowing they’re so far away…other times, I’m just so happy and grateful we keep in touch with one another. And that I was able to experience the magical year I wanted so badly – so badly. And I got it. I made it mine, and here I am.

At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.

One week of work under my belt. Not just any ordinary week of work; meaningful work. Work that intertwines with what I believe in right now, and what I wish to see in the world – with people who care, with people who are on the exact same page as me. That makes me feel good.

I’m on some sort of cloud. Not sure if it’s cloud-nine; but it’s a cloud a little higher than the Brooklyn bridge – I can see Estonia, I can see Brooklyn, I can see Manhattan. Dallas, you’re there too. My co-worker shared a “Jewish saying”, that sometimes your head can be where you are, but your soul might be slowly trailing behind, taking its’ time to catch up with your body. I believe that. It’s happening. Currently. Like, right now.

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My soul is taking its’ time, and I’m not going to push it to go any faster.

Oh, but I have so many good stories of my first week in Brooklyn and Manhattan! I think, what I’ll do, is create another blog by the name of…

www.brookjenyc.wordpress.com

Where I start a fresh chapter/page/blog roll, accounting my stories of living in a place that is unlike any other place I’ve lived in – I’m talking way more culture shock than Kansas AND Estonia combined. This should be good. This should be interesting.

 Thank you SO much for following me on JENSTONIA the past year! Your readership, commentary, and presence has meant so much to me – and it will continue to as I navigate my next journey in Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Love to all,

Jenstonia – forever Jenstonia

“Today we celebrate the history of Jewish survival, and instill a passion for social justice”

Today, I’m sitting a quick train ride away from Auchswitz, the largest network of Nazi concentration camps. Today, I’m angrier, sadder, and more hopeful than before. I want so badly to scream, “I hate you” into the wind, reaching everyone involved in the heinous crimes 74-years ago. I want so badly to scream, “HEY! Look how far we’ve come! We’ll continue to go further.”

Just upstairs is an entire hallway overcome with 1,000 names, innocent people, who were murdered in Estonia. If you step outside, you can pass physical land that once held the 22 concentration and labor camps for foreign Jews. Here, 10,000 Jews were lost.

Today, I sit in what feels like arm-length to the 10,000 beautiful people in Poland, who are walking 3 kilometers on the same tracks thousands marched to their death towards the end of WWII. Today, they carry our people. Today, they illustrate the continued existence of world Jewry. 

“It is not a matter of remembering or forgetting, their blood flows in our blood, boiling till this day,” President Shimon Peres said. “We will not be calmed. The distance (March of the Living) is not that big, it happened 74 years ago, it is part of our biography, not part of our history.”

Watch the March of The Living LIVE here: http://www.timesofisrael.com/march-of-the-living-sets-out/

We shall never recover, we shall never forget, for the Holocaust lives within us. 

Jenstonia

Join me in running 6k for the 6,000,000 lost.

Hashtag #Pesach

Before I get into it, I’d like to take a second to recognize just how cool Estonia is

Listen to this Estonian band:

 

Tallinn Music Week: 4 – 6 April / 233 artists from 20 countries / http://www.tallinnmusicweek.ee <– Check out that lineup!

E-estonia: How did a small, post-Soviet nation transform itself into a global leader in e-solutions? Learn more here: http://e-estonia.com/

And well, there’s me of course:

It’s above freezing today, so naturally I’m sitting on a rooftop in Old Town..

 

 

Now do me a favor if you have Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook: I’ll use Instagram for this ‘exercise’  – I want you to search the hashtag “Pesach” or “Passover” or “Chag Sameach”

Take a minute or two to check out the photographs posted under the aforementioned #hashtags. These are Seder tables from all over the world. I’ll repeat, ALL OVER THE WORLD.

Here I go: Freely celebrating this holiday that commemorates an enslaved time nearly 3,300 years ago. Not only freely celebrating, but showing the entire world through photos, hashtags, and Facebook posts that Jewish people around the world are not ashamed. No, no, not ashamed.

Times like these reaffirm my total adoration for the power of Social Media (especially when it combines my favorite holiday).

20 years ago on the “Eastern Bloc”, where Soviet Expansion suppressed all forms of religion, matzah would not be a 12 year-olds Facebook cover photo. 10 years ago, no chance in hell would a group of teenagers feel comfortable with opening the door for Elijah in the middle of the city center – in a building built under Stalin, on a street that used to be called “Hitler highway”. But that happened last night. Celebrating freedom from suppression, from humiliation, from utter disdain and hatred – the meaning of Passover had never felt more real to me than it did this year (5773).

Growing up, my friends here didn’t celebrate Pesach at home –a reality that was reiterated to me at the Seder table on Tuesday night. “I was a Soviet kid” I was told, something I tend to forget as we live “normal”, day-to-day lives in Estonia.

I look back and see myself in public school (in Texas, mind you), proudly wearing my Star of David and bringing matzah to lunch. I was one of the three Jewish kids in elementary school, and by day 2 of Pesach I had my non-Jewish friends begging me for matzah. That was in 1996.

The teens that I work with in Estonia were born in the year 1996. The Soviet Union retreated in 1991. The Estonian Jewish Center was centralized and rebuilt in 1992. The only synagogue in Tallinn was built in 2007.

I have no idea how Pesach was celebrated between 1992 and 2012, but in 2013 (5773) I attended 3 Seder’s in Estonia – that’s 3 more than I expected to attend. The first night I went to the only synagogue located in Tallinn’s City Center; that evening, the synagogue hosted two Seders – one for Russian speakers and one for English speakers. I went to the Russian one.

I figured if I wanted comfort in an English Seder, I could go home to Texas – and I certainly wasn’t doing that. I sat near my friends and the other 20-something year olds as well as the President of the Synagogue and his wife. In no time, the President, his wife, and I spoke the language of wine and ensured our glasses were full before the Haggada told us to fill. I spoke my broken Russian, they spoke their broken English, and we sang the songs in Hebrew we both knew. I couldn’t help but smile the entire Seder knowing all too well that this is the experience I wanted. I wanted this. This is partly what I signed up for, and this is what I’m getting.

Russian Hagada with my name written in Russian letters

I’m in a county where taking pride in Judaism was unheard of not so long ago; and here I was, sitting at the Seder table celebrating my most loved Jewish holiday in the only synagogue in Tallinn. 60 other people around the room unafraid to be in the city center bitter-herbing their matzah and dipping their potatoes in salt water. Not only that, but I was speaking their language and connecting – something I don’t think I could have done 6 months ago. “Krasivaya devushka” the President’s wife would say to me as we “L’chaimed” to another glass – she was calling me beautiful. She whispered to my friends in Russian, “She looks like such a Jewish girl!” I giggled while my friends pointed at my overly-blushed face and said, “eta ocheen pravda!” or “that’s very true!” and proud of it.

I was so grateful for her warmth at my first Seder in Estonia. She gave me a comfort I didn’t think I missed while celebrating a holiday that’s usually so family-oriented for me.

The next night I went to a friend and colleague’s house for round two of Seder’ing. All in our mid-20’s and early 30’s, some pregnant, some recently married, some soon-to-be married, and some happily single (that’s me!). The Seder totally improvised; YouTube clips from ‘The Prince of Egypt’ and Louis Armstrong’s “Let my people go” displayed from the 3D flat screen TV. Angry Birds played between meals. The best part: As we went through the Haggadah, we played popcorn around the table and read aloud text in Estonian, Russian, Hebrew, English, Latvian, and Bulgarian.

All 12 of us spent 20-minutes searching for the Afikomen even after our search area options were narrowed to 2 rooms. A humbling experience. And as the night progressed, iPhones and Galaxy 3’s came out and photos projected of possible bachelors for the happily single; “No, no, next, next, not happening, meh, not bad, hook me up!” I think I was still wearing my 3D glasses throughout the selection process.

Oh, and then the strangest thing occurred! While engaging in a community Facebook’ing session, someone at the Seder table said, “I know some girl from Dallas”. I jokingly replied, “Yeah, I probably know her and the other 7 million people that live in that city!” But yeah, it happened, you guessed it. The dude pulled up a picture of someone I know very well. WHAT ARE THE ODDS? “We met in Spain at some bar”, he said. I questioned, “Did you tell her you were Estonian because I’m about to use Facebook like never before”. At 2:00am on the second night of Pesach in Estonia, I was talking to my friend in Dallas confirming she knew my friend in Estonia. “And I think to myself, what a wonderful world…”

This is why I love Pesach. The improvisation leads to more improvisation. I might add, whoever developed the Seder service, the visuals, and the grub really gave us stuff to work with. The Seder table holds so many multifunctional props that make going beyond the Haggadah and improvising so unbelievably appealing. This is what I’m all about though: Having positive experiences. It might be super reform, left, or not traditional of me, but it keeps me wanting more.

On Saturday night, I held a Seder at my apartment for teen leaders to celebrate a job well-done their first time being counselors at Estonia’s Spring Camp “L’haim 2013”. Remember when I mentioned them jumping up to greet Elijah at the door? It did happen, and here are some photos from the night!

Before Pesach, I was in Pedase, Estonia (about 60km from Tallinn) for Spring Camp. More like winter camp really, as the snow was very, very present. Like too present. One week full of dancing, singing, cool programs, no sleep, and carb-fueled camp style meals. Except unlike camp in Missouri, USA, they had tea for breakfast. Which was funny and cute to me, and once again proved I was not in Missouri or the United States of America.

Someone once asked me where I am truly myself. My answer to them was “camp”. The image of running around with blue paint all over my face, wearing two different pairs of shoes, and screaming a camp cheer with 50 kids around me is where I am so myself it hurts. So when I was able to do this once again at Estonia’s Spring Camp, you can imagine how ME I felt.

Co-counselors and staff would ask, “Jen, what do you think of camp in Estonia?” My response, “I love camp!” You might have tea for breakfast, sing the Birkat (blessing after the meal) a little differently, but to see kids jumping around to songs in Hebrew, coming up with their own cheers, getting dressed for Shabbat and feeling more connected than ever…camp is camp and camp is GOOD!

I’ve had a magical past 2 weeks here in Estonia, and am looking forward to much more. Please, just tickle my fancy one more time and check out those hashtags, Instagram photos, and Facebook posts. If you’re not into Jewish holidays or find it hard to wrap you head around how 3,300 years ago connects with modern times, don’t wrap your head around it. Know that it is a remarkably beautiful thing that anyone with a smart phone, a Facebook or Twitter account, feels empowered and SAFE enough to share their traditions with the rest of the world. Oh, and the best part is that people “like” it.

To #connecting,

Jenstonia – #Diyeinu

Soul Shaking – the 2013 BBYO International Convention in DC

Woof it’s been a while – thankfully, I found some time between Purim parties.

(Sidenote: Can’t believe I just said that) Anywho, while I’m here and you’re there and I have you if only for a few minutes…let’s do this.

There’s a great possibility I could have just returned home (Estonia) from one of the most deeply rewarding experiences of my young adulthood. Enriching, meaningful, impactful, whatever — there aren’t powerful enough adjectives that can describe every millimeter of your soul being shaken.

I traveled to D.C. for BBYO’s 2013 International Convention with 4 teens [2 from Estonia, 2 from Latvia] and 1 additional advisor [from Estonia]. This was their first trip to America.

Before leaving, I received phone calls, emails, or texts from teens saying, “Are you serious? Am I really going to America?” or “This has always been a dream of mine” or “I’m in shock. This can’t be real.”

You can imagine how this chilled every fiber of my being. I knew being able to experience this once-in-a-lifetime trip with them (and return to the Baltic’s) would not only cause me to break down in tears every minute, but be an extraordinary highlight of all of our lives together. To be able to return home with them and continue the conversations and reflect on the memories is a double blessing. To have a soul-shaking, immersive experience, and come home to let it wash away in the suds of your everyday, routine life at home is a shame. It was my goal from the very beginning to never let the post-BBYO convention spirit dwindle.

And so we departed for America.

  

Into the wind or “hambe kahle” as my Zulu-speaking friends and family say. We arrived with all passports and checked luggage intact, and were welcomed by a swarm of 40 teens from all over the world; more importantly, I had a Skinny Vanilla Latte from Starbucks waiting for me. *Gulp*, 5 months too long.

Next thing I know I’m in an 8-person SUV with luggage stacked to the brim, 3 teenage girls from Argentina, 2 from Bulgaria, 1 JDC Fellow based in Ukraine in the passenger seat, 1 past JDC Fellow who was based in Latvia in the driver’s seat, and me. I proactively demand no jet-lagged Russian speaking in the car; I hug my Starbucks and listen to the sounds of international snoring fill the car on the 4-hour drive to Baltimore.

I feel the burbs and a JCC coming closer when I see the following commercial developments: David’s Deli, some non-chain Laundromat, Best Buy, Fro Yo, Target, Chipotle, 4 Starbucks, need I say more? I am really back in America. Oh. My. Development.

A very surreal feeling to jump back into the Suburbs of America, but I will say there is an unspoken comfort when walking into a JCC. Normally, I’m a tip-toer and hypersensitive to other people’s spaces and time, but I ran into the Baltimore JCC like it was the Dallas JCC [aka my second home].

The kids got cozy with their host families and adapted quickly to their slice of American life. Facebook posts and messages confirmed they were overly satiated mentally, socially, and digestively.

 

I could not wait to be sucked into BBYO convention-life; 1 week of 150 staff, 1600 teens, 52 international teens, thought-provoking speakers (meh, like Obama), cheering, panel discussions, deep conversations, the feeling of togetherness, and every day with Jewish elements scattered throughout. There are few things in this world that I value more than learning; so when it comes to seminars and conventions created for the sole purpose of expanding knowledge, I am a truly the science geek in the Natural History Museum. What can I say, it’s my ‘jam’. 

I reunited with many; fellow JDC Entwine Global Service Corps Fellows, co-counselors and campers from Camp Sabra, familiar faces from Dallas, people who’ve stumbled upon this blog, and so many more. One of the most gratifying things for me was to be a part of the International Delegation; while I could have easily been pulled toward Dallas-folk or even the Midwest, I felt such a strong sense of responsibility to be with the international staff and teens as much as possible. I was that kid 10 years ago completely infatuated with international delegates at conventions – to be a part of it was a dream come true. Really, it just showed me if I made the world my priority, the world would gracefully open itself up and let me be a part of it in some special way. This was special.

While there were truly incredible and inspiring moments, like… I don’t know… 52 International teens getting initiated into BBYO, the Hatikvah (Israeli national anthem) when more than 15 Israeli delegates hopped on stage, Nancy Carr’s speech, Obama’s speech, Susan Rice’s speech, I’ve gotta say one moment hit me the most:

Preface: I really pushed my kids to go to services on Friday night (Chabad is the only option in Estonia)

• I asked one of my kiddos on Saturday morning: “So, how were services last night?”
• Her response: “IT WAS SO COOL!”
• I had to step away for a moment and gather my heart that just spilled out of my chest. For a teenager to say that a Friday night service was “cool”… Hello!!!!!
• She continued, “I didn’t think services could be so fun! With songs and everything… At home it’s so hard to understand”

I knew this time in America would show them a world of Jewish pluralism; options, flexibility, engaging ways to connect to religion – I can’t imagine how deeply this peeked their curiosity to connect to the more traditional aspects of religion that really are just, as she put it, “hard”.

The rest of the convention was everything I wanted it to be: boisterous cheering under sleep deprivation, long nights of absolute absurd goofiness between staff, teens being completely independent (after the first day of awkwardness and clinging) and making friends from around the world, epiphanies, realizations, passion for the Jewish future, motivation for next year.

I’m back in Estonia only for a few days to catch some of the highest quality air (it’s true – #1 in the world), do Purim, make sure everyone remembers my face, and have some cool working conversations.

Off to Israel for a seminar with all the JDC Fellows (YAYY seminars) and then 3 days of Mediterranean vacation in Greece and Turkey! This year aint bad kids, it aint bad.

Hasta la pasta! Missed you all and talk soon after I’m all tanned and Greek-looking.

Jenstonia – #azabbgic2013

New: Year, Residence, and Gym Memberships

Here I sit in a cozy bistro named “Bonaparte”, which can only shed some light on how unRussian-esque (this is a word) Estonia is. I know I fell asleep in every AP European History class in high school, but I’m pretty sure Napoleon Bonaparte invaded Russia in the 19^th century. In any case, no, I’m still not in Russia. I’m totally in Estonia; in fact, I would prefer if you called me Miss Jenstonia, RE (Resident of Estonia). Yep, you read that correctly, I am officially of resident status – but I’ll get to that a bit later.

HAPPY 2013, EVERYONE! I hope you all were able to celebrate the New Year in a wholesome manner- Lord knows I didn’t. Just kidding. Kind of. No but really, wishing you all a happy, healthy and most inspiring 2013! Stick to your resolutions, but when they start making you unhappy, stick-less, then stick again. Rinse. Repeat.

NYEstonia:

My New Year’s celebration began at 9:00pm on the 31^st and ended 10:30pm on the 1^st. The following things occurred: starters eaten at 10pm, Putin spoke at Midnight, sprinklers lit, fireworks shot in adjacent field – legally, walked in 2 feet of ice water to get to the Old Town, screamed Happy New Year in British accent with champagne bottle in hand for an hour, and made it back by 2am for the main course: salmon and thinly sliced roast potatoes. Mmm mmm. Johnnie Walker and I became the best of friends by 7am, and then I traded him for a little napski (Russian nap) on the couch until noon tea time. I stayed at my friends the whole day and we ate leftovers while movie marathoning our hearts out. I only left the couch once.

These may seem like such trivial details, but there’s something that struck me after the New Years haze faded: PEOPLE.

I get nauseas thinking about the glamorous, over-privileged New Year’s parties that exist throughout the world. The ones that cost a fortune and are too posh to really enjoy. When attire and handbag selection are top priorities. I know I’m being tough and judgmental, but not once did we discuss attire or logistics beforehand. Just be there at 9:00pm and expect to have a good time with good people. Wait, hold up, you didn’t know I had absolutely zero interest in talking about my New Years outfit a month in advance? Too cruel?

But really I had the best time. I never heard a whiny complaint or anything remotely negative. Though my socks were soaking wet from swimming into Old Town, nothing else mattered but being fully present with all those around us. We just giggled in unison as sparklers were lit and champagne glasses clinked. Estonia crew + some Latvians, you are truly a breath of fresh air for a Dallas Jewish girl who’s never cared about anything material except for descent running shoes and cappuccino. Thank you.

Community

Speaking of people, at 11:30pm on January 1^st, I had two American teenagers swing by and stay with me in Tallinn. They were representing BBYO, an international teen-led Jewish movement I was super involved with in high school. In 2 days I showed them my city, the Tallinn I fell in love with from day 1. They were shocked, just like I was, at how truly special the Jewish community is here. When describing the Estonian community, the local Rabbi said, “Because it [the community] is so small, people talk to each other, not about each other”.

 

This resonated hugely in my head. It was so true. As you know, I come from a major U.S. city and most of the information (good or bad) you hear about people is from other people.  Dallas is quite spread out on a geographic level, and you can see that this affects (positively and negatively) the community dynamics. I’m not saying that this is good or bad, I can only tell you how it felt to a middle-class Jewish girl from the ‘burbs. My culture was soccer, sports, art, curly hair club, Hebrew school, Sunday school, BBYO, Camp Sabra, etc. Nothing too Dallas-specific, hence why I don’t think I ever found love or deep appreciation for the city (or state of Texas rather). Except for Tex Mex.

I came from a city with at least 8 synagogues, which rightly so functioned like businesses and competed against one another. Reform vs. Conservative, Orthodox vs. Ultra Orthodox. I never saw integration, I never fully understood community. But I yearned for it. Ask my mother how many soccer, basketball, volleyball, track, art, local Synagogue, and BBYO meetings she took me to until I was 16. My teams were my subcommunities of the greater Dallas community. Finding community in 45,000 Jews in the greater Dallas area was, and still is, a struggle.

After 4 years in Lawrence, Kansas (population 200,000; Jewish students: 2,000), and 4 months in Estonia (population 1,000,000; Jewish: 2,000), I know Community and I know Culture – with capital C’s. Granted this strictly entails the Jewish Community, but now l know what it means to not only to be a part of, but to love and appreciate one. I am someone who needs to understand a concept in its’ most simple form in order to genuinely love (or dislike) something; I cannot be bothered by “things”, by rubbish, by unnecessary words or falsities. KU Hillel and the Estonian Jewish Community gave me this.

After this brief moment of reflection with the local Rabbi, the 2 American teens and I continued touring Tallinn. We surfed the cobble stones from Lower Old Town to Upper, learning Hanseatic history and fantastical myths of Medieval Tallinn from a local Community member. After a few hours one of the teens pointed out to me how often I physically point out to something that is my so-called “favorite”. Oh, what can I say, I love it all – except for the outrageous Euro/Scandinavian price inflation and black-iced roads… and DBI [death by icicle] copywrite JB.

Residence

It was during their visit when I found out Estonia accepted me as a resident. The next morning I rushed over to the Immigration Department to swoop up my ID card. Completely awestruck at the fact I had a personal identification number, and even more awestruck at my strategically posed Soviet “smile”.  Uhhhh Darwin, is this supposed to happen? Natural ex-Soviet adaptation?

Gym Memberships

I decided I would celebrate my residence with a gym membership; after my first gym session, I found that this was a real sign of settlement. The fact that I have a gym in Estonia. I wonder what symbolized settlement to early homo sapiens? Perhaps breeding or tool creation?

At any rate, I am no longer a tourist, a visitor, or someone just passing through. I am really a part of the Jewish community, I am really a resident, I am really someone who has a gym membership (non-binding contract, thank you). I have a freaking gym membership. I AM SO IN!

What’s next? A library card?

2013 y’all!

Jenstonia – Proud RE [Resident of Estonia] and Gym Member. 

View from Gym