23 in estonee: a birthday blog

Let’s just say this week has been full of surprises.

[No pictures for 5ish paragraphs due to context of surprise] 😉

Beginning on Monday with the Border & Immigration police pointing to December 19^th (my birthday) and reprimanding in broken English, “You must go back to America on this day.” My eyes widened, partially due to the dryness caused by the frigid winter temperatures. I curiously responded, “Does it have to be America?”

“UK, London, Africa, just not in Europe”.

I thought, “Okay, okay, I can work with that.” I traveled the globe in my head… for free.

I made eye contact with my supervisor who was also serving as my translator and instantly shook the romantic thoughts. Back to mirroring the police and putting my Estonian government-worker face on; AKA: Serious and stoic, yet secretly yearning for light and goofy energy.

After another day at the Department on Tuesday, my boss exclaimed, “Wouldn’t it be the best birthday present ever if Estonia lets you stay in the country?!” My eyes went to the right and my head slowly nodded, “Best birthday present everrrr”, I said in an uber-American accent, drawing out the “r” until my brain signaled for an emergency breath.

After a lot of Estonian and a little (or zero) understanding, my boss looked at me concerned, insisting, “Let’s meet tomorrow at 11am to discuss this Visa issue…”

2 words pop in my head, “Oh” and “Shit”.

OH SHIT.

With visa stress combined with annual birthday stress, I think my coworkers knew the only 2 words that had the power to fight off these demons: SUSHI and WINE.

 

Sushi and wine and everything’s fine. I went to bed Tuesday evening digestively and intoxicatingly coated to perfection.

I awoke to Skype and FaceTime calls, emails, and various other messages. My birthday arrived and I felt far from alone with all the non-harmonious ringtones singing. I ate breakfast and opened presents on Skype with mom, FaceTimed with my best friend in the States who has the same birthday as I do, and said goodnight to them as I got ready for my day. A little apprehensive to leave my warm apartment and not only bear the coldest day to date, but have another discussion about my visa.

I took myself, my 2 pairs of pants, stepped outside and welcomed my 90^th day in Estonia. A very important number to the Border & Immigration Department. I walked to the 2^nd floor of the Community and noticed the lights were MIA. I slowly rounded a corner and saw candles flickering through a glass door. I stopped. Meh, probably for a little too long. One of my supervisors motioned me forward, with her face saying, “come on Jen, you can do it, don’t be scared”.

I walk into a dark room only lit by candles and heard, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jennifer Rachel Berman” in perfect English. Someone tells me to make a wish, demanding that it can’t be one about my current visa status. I blow, and I am stuttering in my brain which obviously means I am speaking gibberish from my mouth.

The lights turn on. All my favorite people, some holding flowers, some holding gifts, all holding smiles. I can’t find the words. Part of me wants to cry, part of me wants to jump on everyone with excitement, part of me wants to melt into a little ball and say “awww” for 10-minutes.

Touched. I am so touched. We sit, eat cake, and I stare, totally mesmerized by the people in the room and the fact that they cleared their morning schedules to celebrate someone they’ve only known for 90 days. I’ve got good eggs all around me.

I’m not even at my desk for 30-minutes and 2 teens come from school to sing me happy birthday. In perfect English again,but just freshly Googled. The rest of the day was lovely and light, drastically different from the past 2 days.

The evening brought on another surprise in that I might have had the best Chicago-style pan pizza EVER. As they “cheersed”, I watched the glasses clinking and felt a warmness come over me; partially in utter disbelief that I could be 90 days in a new country, surrounded by a solid group of good friends. Already feeling comfortable enough to yell/whine for English when my brains too tired for Russian… Now that says something.

I engaged in many fits of uncontrollable laughter – to the point of tears and significant pizza calorie burning.

As we put on our gloves and coats, I thanked them for celebrating with me and for making my day so special. The words “thank you for being born” floated through my ringing ears and settled comfortably in my brain. Thank you for being born. Jesus, guys.

What a remarkably special day it turned out to be; honestly, I was a little anxious and so not looking forward to waking up alone in a quiet apartment on my birthday. Usually, I’m cool with it and I rock some tunes to offset the silence, but this was a definite first for a birthday. With technology, thank G-d, I was far from alone. The rest of the day, I was far from it too.

The great news is I’m staying in Estonia, although I can’t travel beyond its’ borders for the next 30 days. Good thing there’s a thousand Estonian islands. I wonder how big the country would be if all the islands were pushed together and added to mainland Estonia? Think about it.

Normally this time of year I would be hopping standby flights to avoid winter in Texas and enjoy summer in South Africa; this includes spending Christmas in the Atlanta airport and not thinking twice about leaving my coat behind. This year I definitely won’t be escaping winter – in fact, I legally cannot. It’s probably not even a good idea to be near the airport, and it’s definitely not a good idea to leave my coat behind. Polar opposite, but it’s what I signed up for! Bring it on.

By the way, Dr. Oz says persimmons and pistachios are good for fighting cardiovascular disease. I thought you should know.

Merry almost-Christmas! Enjoy the spirit of the holidays and spread some joy!

Blurg,

Jenstonia – stayin’ in Estonia. No really, I can’t leave.

when two worlds collide.

It’s so hard not to smile when I walk into work.

Every day, I walk past the ONE Synagogue in Estonia, along the path that leads directly to the bright orange doors – the ones that guide me to the people who work tirelessly to keep the Estonian Jewish community vibrant.

Along the path I can see some of those people through their office windows; a wave hello from the outside keeps me smiling as I walk through the doors to the inside.

I step in, look to my left (where I can always find a cluster of people), and Russian greetings fall naturally from my lips.

• “Privyet, kak deela?” (Hello, how are you?)
• “Privyet, Jen, harisho, kak deela?” (Hello, Jen, good, how are you?)
• “Atleechna, spasiba” (Great, thank you!)

And today I entered the building the exact same way – except this time I had been gone for a week. I was happily, yet urgently led to The Maker of All Beautiful Scarves in the community. The Maker, who I shall name BumbleBee, is in her young senior years, and buzzes with such zest around the community. Let us not forget the Swarovski crystal on her French manicured nails.

She pulls out a long, luscious, Tiffany blue/green scarf from her bag.

She forces me to take off my coat and current scarf. She wraps the one she knitted around my neck.

I’m pushed to look at myself in the mirror as another colleague follows me and translates the following to me in Hebrew, “Is it okay? Do you like it?” – Yes to all of the above.

“She cuts, you wash, you wear.”

Okay, she cuts, I wash, I wear.

Hugs, spasiba’s, and smiles follow me up to my desk.

I sit here, in front of you, happy to be back in Estonia and deeply inspired from the past week.

So, Jen, tell us, where have you been?

With 90 Jewish teens from Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania in Pedase, Estonia – about 60km from Tallinn. This is also why I have a cold today.  Sniff.

4 days at “Kadima” – a teen seminar devoted to leadership training and team building infused with inspirational Jewish learning. Pedase is a camp-style hotel; wooden bunk beds, shared bathrooms, shared sauna’s, shared laps (people sitting on top of other people), and oh yeah, shared germs.

And SO in my element. Camp counselor Jen came out to play those 4 days; being fun, light, positive and bubbly with teens. Pushing them to put their phones away and take advantage of the learning experience, giving them they eye when being too loud or too goofy. But most importantly, the part that fills my soul with purpose and reminds me of my favorite memories: having meaningful one-on-one conversations with younger generations. Talks of relationships, family life, social life, best friends, enemies, teachers at school; what is G-d? What is Judaism and why should I explore it? What do you believe in? Do you believe in anything? Etc.

Don’t imagine the conversations going completely fluidly; they were broken, absolutely. Words translated by others, and frustration had by the teens when they couldn’t find the word in English. And in my head? Well, in my head, I saw my pieces of my world connect with other pieces; creating clearer images of my life’s puzzle. I realize that sounds absolutely obscure and “out there”; but I felt purposeful. Blessed.

I wrote on the bus, “I feel: Purposeful. Blessed. To be a member of the involved Jewish world. To care about our tribe and its’ future – I feel like a tiny piece of the puzzle who’s just finding connecting pieces ALL.OVER.THE.WORLD.”

And then I wrote a reminder as I walked away from the weekend, “and don’t forget: you, yourself, need be inspired to inspire others.”

A collision of two worlds:

A 5-hour bus ride south took me to Riga, Latvia. The largest city of the Baltic’s. My first trip to connect me to the larger Baltic picture.

Monday, November 12, 2012:

“Sitting at breakfast in the Albert Einstein Hotel in Riga, Latvia. Beatles playing in the background, the view of Riga’s cobble-stones streets and colorful architecture beyond the window. Just saw a dog carrying his/her own leash. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. E=mc^2”

A little taste of my Catcher in the Rye/stream-of-consciousness journal styling’s.

That evening I was surprised by the JDC Entwine Steering Committee. Without hesitation, I threw my arms around the JDC Staff I knew. Staff, by the way, who interviewed me for this very position. A very surreal, full-circle feeling – a collision of two worlds, if you will.

Rachel, who is a former JDC JSC Fellow and who now works for JDC-New York, was my first connection to this current chapter of my life. Rachel interviewed me via Skype in April; I remember it vividly. Sitting in my apartment in Lawrence, Kansas, rocking my business professional attire, just 2 months shy of graduating. The moment that literally led me to this overwhelmingly connected hug with her in Riga, Latvia. Where my current Baltic life exists, with my Baltic colleagues and friends, rocking my more trendy-euro-hipster attire, just shy of 2 months since landing in Estonia. All in one room together.

Hello surrealism.

And I spent the next day with the JDC Entwine Steering Committee on their tour of Jewish Riga. Incredibly educational and necessary for me to better understand past and current Jewish life – clarity was gained, and feelings were undoubtedly felt. We walked through Jewish ghetto’s, where Jews were forced to live during ww2; we saw cemeteries, memorials, Jewish museums, and artifacts that left us with emotions too hard to put into words.

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Anger, sadness, confusion, optimism, belief, and even greater motivation for the future.

“what the eyes can’t see, the heart can’t feel”

I was told this 3 months ago as I prepared for my new life in the Baltic’s. It resonated in my heart exponentially as I drifted from images too difficult to grasp.

But now I saw.

And I feel more than ever.

And I understand so much more.

 And I’m grateful I get 10 more months to put that better understanding, that motivation for the future, into my work here. I don’t just walk away and sit in Dallas, Texas with the memory of a destroyed Jewish community in my head – I get to help in their revival, their renewal.

“You’re one of us now”,said the President of the Jewish Community of Riga. I am. Without question. I am so a part of this community it baffles me at times. When people ask me how I am, how I’m doing, I point to the people and say, “Just look at them. Look how funny, how beautiful they are. That’s how I’m doing”

Thanksgiving is in a week so hurry up and send me recipes! If you’d like to send me a turkey, that’s totally okay too.

Lats of Love,

Jenstonia – Feelin’ so Baltic. 

 

packets of mayonnaise – a post of continued ‘firsts’

“Excuse me, do you speak English?”  I rip off my headphones, smile and say, “you bet!” The next question he asked could not been worded any better.

“um, do they have mayo here?”.

I chuckle. Hardy -har.  We’re in the middle of a small market – not the one closest to the harbor where you can expect an international demographic. I ask, “Where are you from, sir?”

“Kansas”

You’re kidding me. Of course my eyes produce happy tears almost instantaneously. I point to my KU hat and we shake hands.

“Before we get to talking about how awesome the Midwest is, lettuce find you your mayo” I say. (find the pun)

I propose going to Hesburger, the Euro version of McDonald’s, and asking for packets of mayo. Problem solved and we continue our chat over shopping baskets, through the pickled-cucumber/salsa/Thai noodle and soy sauce aisle. Turns out he’s from Bonner Springs, Missouri and just got to Tallinn from traveling Northward through the Baltic States. I had to jet out quickly, but I walked away shaking my head at another serendipitous moment. How does it happen? Alright so maybe I’d rather not question it and let it continue happening.

So yeah, that just happened. Anyway…

Hi everyone! How have you been? Good? I’ve missed you this week.

I write this post contently ending my third (that’s right) week in Estonia. Some pretty cool moments need be highlighted:

I had my first “girl’s night” on Monday. Pasta and tomato sauce made, bottle(s) of red wine drunk, MadTV YouTube videos watched, and boys were intermittently talked about when we weren’t saying how much we didn’t need them. So by omission, and according to my calculations, men were 99.9% of the evening. Such a girl’s night.

I had my first emergency hospital visit on Tuesday. Fret not, I’m totally fine. And because I’m not a hypochondriac and do not like medical attention, I’m not going into the details. My mom pretty much found the silver lining with, “well, now you know where the hospital is!” In addition, I now have a handful of nurses who know “American Jenya”, an awesome doctor, friends willing to take me there at 2:00am, and I know how to say blood pressure and uterus in Russian. See, everything is fine so don’t be worried or look at me with those concerned eyebrows. Thank you. (I wrote a private post about it so if you want it, just ask!)

I had my first pancake on Friday. Are you thinking, “What? Your family deprived you of pancakes when you were a kid? How awful”? No no, this isn’t so. These pancakes are special and mine contained smoked chicken and feta cheese. My friend’s contained smoked trout and some other cheese. My mom microwaved plenty of mini-pancakes growing up, don’t worry. Check this out: www.kompressorpub.ee

I played my first game of Cobra on Saturday. I hope you read the word “game”, because I didn’t play with a cobra on Saturday night. That would have been cool though. Cobra is a game developed by John Zorn, and is a type of musical improv game played to make beautiful, or not so beautiful, music. My Russian tutor invited me to a game of Cobra with her friends; her husband is a Saxophonist and has a studio in “Radio City” – an area in Tallinn where some awesome music is made. I walk into a studio full of instruments; piano, keyboard, drums, bongo, triangle, speakers, and about 20 instruments I’ve never seen in my life. I’m with 15 Russian-speaking individuals, most of which are getting a PhD in “Russian Philology”. Not philosophy, but philology. I’ll give you the honor of breaking up the Greek roots to make a field of study.

These were really cool people. We literally jammed out and made our own music for a solid 5-hours. All of those years drumming in school on desks with my hand and pencil really translated well to drumsticks and cardboard boxes. I think I may have gotten a record deal last night, although I’m not sure.

We left around 3am and it finally happened. I’m totally okay with it, but it really happened, guys. It finally got cold.

Thankfully I had my newest friends around me showing me how to behave in these types of situations. We don’t tense up; we don’t clench our jaw so much to where our teeth shatter. We don’t bounce around like we’re on a pogo stick. We relax, we breathe, and when that doesn’t work, we drink vodka.

Some manly-men walked me back to my apartment to ensure I got back safely. Note: All guys do that. American men, I am generalizing, so read up: You walk the ladies back to their doors and you don’t have any other intentions just because you engaged in this “noble” act.

A wintry Baltic breeze has finally squeezed its’ way through Tallinn, and I’m thinking about wearing gloves. Only thinking.

Next weekend entails “Yachad”, a weekend convention for all Estonian Jews. It will be in “Parnu”, the main beach city located in Southwest Estonia. About 500 Estonian’s will be attending and I’m having a hard time containing my excitement. I cannot wait to meet new people, talk Judaism, dance, and get closer with the people I will have known for 4 weeks.

The “newness” of being in a new country has yet to wear off, but I choose not to let it. I try to keep things fresh as much as possible; even walk the same route and focus on a different building or different tree I hadn’t noticed before. May sound cheesy, but I really don’t want to get “used” to being here. I usually wake up every morning and remind myself where I am:

 “My name is Jennifer, I live in Europe, I live in Eastern Europe, I live in Northern Europe, I live in a Baltic State, I live in Estonia, I live in Tallinn. Don’t get used to it and remind yourself often this year will never recycle itself and it must be embraced fully”.

That’s my usual speech and I’m sticking to it.

Cheers to YOU,

Jenstonia – “thank you for this gift” as my Birthright group and I said upon landing in Israel.