Let my people grow

“It’s a Jewish festival where we don’t eat bread…No, I won’t be home for dinner tonight because I’m going to the Israeli Embassy…Yes, the Embassy of Israel…Kind of like Easter, but different.”

This was me trying to explain Passover to my host dad, when he was asking why I wouldn’t be home for dinner, and also why I couldn’t eat bread for the next 8 days. This whole time I’m pretty sure he, along with the rest of my family, thought I was Christian; something I understood when they kept asking me if I was fasting on Friday. With the language barrier a lot of things get lost in translation, but I also think it is the fact that my host family probably has never met a Jewish person before. Thus, the word for Jew may not even be in their vocabulary (something I confirmed when trying to explain I was Jewish, using the Wolof term, “Yawut” and they just stared at me blankly). So I let it slide, it didn’t really matter anyways, I thought. It’s not like I’m celebrating Shabbat every week since there is no one to celebrate it with. But when it came time for Passover, I knew I had to clear some things up since this is a holiday I cannot completely gloss over.

Passover has always been an important holiday to my family. It was always a time where my whole family tried to get together, even my cousins came in all the way from Israel. It was also my Zayde’s z”l favorite holiday, where he would sit at the head of the table and lead the Seder, making sure we always stopped to insert my Uncle Kimmy’s and Eitan’s commentaries. Our Seders lasted forever, sometimes not eating until 11 at night, but they were always the moments I looked forward to each year. Moments like these I knew I was going to be missing out on this semester, but had put in the back of my mind so as not to be filled with despair or regret the entire semester.

Here we now are, at the moment where my favorite holiday is about to begin. Seeing all my friends posting on social media about how they are going home, making the traditional dishes for Passover, and even the laborious activity of cleaning the kitchen, all made me so so homesick. But I was lucky, because I was going to the Israeli Embassy for the first Seder. I was going to get a little touch of home, maybe get to sing my favorite songs, and maybe, just maybe have some matzo ball soup.

6:45 PM: “I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do. She just can’t come.” This was a text I received moments before my friend Harriet and I were about to leave for the Seder. The connect I had at the embassy told me that Harriet wouldn’t be able to come because he hadn’t known in advance that she was coming. I could have sworn I told him she was coming, but I also had sent an email RSVP as per the instructions on the invite. He told me the email was not enough and there was nothing he could do. I knew going to this Seder was too good to be true: going to the embassy and celebrating my favorite holiday with the few Jews scattered throughout Dakar. I knew that something was going to stand in the way of my plans.

I called my mom hysterically crying because I was just so disappointed. I could hear the sadness and frustration in her voice and just wished at that moment I could be home in her arms, helping her cook her famous macarons. She asked me to send her the guy’s number so she could maybe try and help plead my case. A couple minutes later the guy called me and said to try and come to the embassy and he would see what he could do. At this point I didn’t know if he had seen the message from my mom, but I went anyways, praying for a miracle.

My friend and I met him at the entrance of the embassy, my hands shaking and sweating with fear. He and the large gate were the only things keeping me from reuniting with my people, with experiencing a spiritual liberation I had been yearning for so long. He asked us the many questions one always receives from Israeli security officers, and then he finally let us inside wishing a “Chag Sameach.” Hebrew! Wow, I haven’t heard that beautiful language in so long, a language I would sometimes speak with my dad when I didn’t want people here to know what I was saying. It had been our own secret language that no one around me understood. But now I was in a place where most people, if not all, understood even just the phrase, “Chag Sameach.”

The grounds of the embassy were beautiful. It honestly looked like a house right in the middle of Jerusalem with the white, Jerusalem stone and beautiful pink flowers in the garden. We went inside and I was immediately transported to my Aunt Ruthy’s home: a white tablecloth with beautiful china, delicate sculptures and intricate paintings capturing some of the gorgeous views from Israel, bowls of charoset and horseradish on the tables with the matzahs stacked so neatly nearby. The ambassador welcomed us into his home, wearing cool trendy glasses characteristic of many Israelis, and ones that looked just like my mom’s.

We sat down at the end of one of the tables across from this couple who were both teachers in Senegal and who had moved here from Canada. We also sat near this woman with her adorable son, who gave me the little kid presence I needed to remind me of my niece and nephews back home. I asked all of them how they could endure living in a country with no Jewish community; how they didn’t feel isolated every time Shabbat rolled around, every time they wanted to pray, every time they wanted to sing. They told me it was hard, but that they were used to travelling and not being around a community of their own. They also would share their traditions and holidays with their non-Jewish friends. This all sounded nice, but for me, it would not be enough.

The Seder finally began with the ambassador saying we must sing Shalom Aleichem as it is Shabbat after all. The words of this melodious song filled the room and I sat motionless. This was the first time I had heard this song in over three months and a huge smile spread across my face. Surprisingly, I didn’t cry, but I closed my eyes and immediately felt that I was at my family’s Shabbat table, holding hands with my dad. and taking in all the beauty of this ballad.

The ambassador then gave an outline of how the evening would go. With each explanation, I would whisper my own commentary to Harriet, and share with her the traditions we have in our family. The ambassador explained that there are so many customs that it would be hard to cover all of them, but that he was going to do his best to make everyone feel at home. We went through the entire Seder, honestly was the longest I’ve ever stayed at a Seder (I always leave after the meal), and we made sure to read every line written in the Haggadah. We sang all the songs I’ve known since elementary school and in the tunes only me and my sister know when leading our family Seders. I was shocked. I could not believe that everyone really knew all the same tunes that I did. There are so many ways to sing the different songs and prayers, yet once one person began singing, the whole room joined in unison. I turned to Harriet who was amazed at the fact that everyone knew what was going on, knew the same songs in the same tunes, and were able to come together and just sing. I told her how I felt like I was transported back to my family’s Seder table, listening to the voices rise up, singing of our freedom.

The true success of the night was measured in the fact that I went home with a package of matzah in hand, something I received from the ambassador’s sister-in-law after I explained to her that I was trying to keep kosher as much as possible. She commended my efforts and wanted to give me all the matzah they had! I honestly had never been so excited to have matzah in my possession. It truly gave me an appreciation for all the kosher supermarkets in the states with an endless amount of Kosher for Passover products I have always had access to.

We walked home after receiving the contact information of one of the women we met, who invited us over anytime to play with her son. Harriet turned to me and said, “Thank you for that experience. This is something I will truly remember forever and that I can’t wait to share with my friends and family.” Hearing these words filled me with joy, as I was looking forward more to sharing this part of my identity with her, than I was for myself getting to experience the Seder. I knew things would be different than how I do them at home, so I really tried to have zero expectations going in. With this mindset, I was able to have the best experience I could have asked for, and was equally excited that Harriet had felt the same way. It really takes a special person like her to show up for you and come with you to this hours long event with the weirdest traditions (seriously like explaining all the customs and reasons for things made me realize how weird they all are, but how much I value them as well). Needless to say, Harriet will be one of those people in my life forever and who I can’t wait to learn about some of her home traditions as she has mine.

When I got back to my house, I texted my mom letting her know that everything had worked out. She said she already knew. She had been texting the guy at the embassy this whole time, who had updated her once we were inside. I have included their text conversation below because there is nothing that makes me happier than seeing the messages from my mom, advocating for me and making sure no one turned away her baby girl.

I am honestly really ready to come home and be with my family and friends again. I miss my people, but it is really reassuring knowing that I was able to add to “my people” while abroad. I now have the strength and motivation to keep going and to finish this semester with my best foot forward. It will not be easy the next 8 days, but when have things ever been easy? We learn so much about ourselves from the challenges, from the strife endured, that I couldn’t imagine being abroad without such difficulties. Having said that, I am so so thankful for the people who are always in my corner and who have never stopped showing up for me since the day I met them. It is with these people that I can take on the challenges I do. So please, be open to accepting new people into your "people" and show up for those people as they should for you. Show up for the ones you love because we all need to take on challenges and to grow, but we can’t do it alone.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/8b7ecb_8e939f4b49e24a2ab20e120fa9f73bea/1080p/mp4/file.mp4