Because those were the 2 most important days in my past week...Not really but I did things that require writing about.
Saturday
ISA planned a volunteer day for us. A group of 9 students (and 2 other people) woke up ridiculously early on a Saturday morning to help the local food bank, Fundación de Banco de Alimentos. Half of us went to one country club, the other half to another maybe 20 minutes away. Once at the country club, we found a giant blue plastic bin filled with donations that people had already put there. We sorted these donations by type of food and put them on a table. Then we split up and walked around the country club, asking the families of the kids playing in the rugby and field hockey tournaments if they had any donations. People kept telling us that they had put their food in a blue tub earlier. After a lot of walking we realized that the bin everyone was talking about was the one that greeted us earlier; it had just been moved.
When we got back to the table, we bagged up the food. One bag got something from each of the most popular categories: noodles, milk (which does not have to be refrigerated here), and sugar. Once every piece of food was in a bag, it was lunch time. Someone was running a grill outside, selling food for cheaper prices than whatever sandwiches the country club restaurant offered. I tried something new and got a bbq pork sandwich. It was delicious. I don't eat a lot of pork, but I would eat that sandwich every day if I could.
Then we went home and slept. All in all, it was a good day.
Monday Night
Monday night was the first night of Passover. My host mom is Jewish so she had her (adult) children over for a nice, big, family dinner. I asked her if we could invite a friend of mine, who is also Jewish, over because he said he wanted to do something to celebrate the holiday. She said yes.
The food was delicious, of course. While I was expecting to eat different food, I was not expecting to see so many similarities between her family's Passover seder and mine. We ate salads, carrot and apple salad, artichoke hearts, pastrami (instead of brisket), gefilte fish (which was baked in a casserole so I mistook it for kugel when I first saw it), drunken pears (definitely taking this recipe home with me), honey cake. And, of course, matzoh. Lots of it.
The biggest difference between our families (besides the language people speak) is that, at least for one seder, we try to read the Haggadah. We make it to the story of Passover, skipping things here and there, and then we pig out. After dinner we might sing a few songs.
On Monday, no one even had a Haggadah. Before we ate, we sang a few prayers and all tried to sing the Four Questions (out of tune and out of order, even though some of us had the words in front of us).
Really, everything we did -- including being surrounded by a family that loves each other -- reminded me of home. Not in a bad way, because I am still not homesick yet, just in a "this is a good and familiar feeling."
Also, it was my roommate's first Passover. She rocked it. She can eat matzoh and dulce de leche like it's her job.
Saturday
ISA planned a volunteer day for us. A group of 9 students (and 2 other people) woke up ridiculously early on a Saturday morning to help the local food bank, Fundación de Banco de Alimentos. Half of us went to one country club, the other half to another maybe 20 minutes away. Once at the country club, we found a giant blue plastic bin filled with donations that people had already put there. We sorted these donations by type of food and put them on a table. Then we split up and walked around the country club, asking the families of the kids playing in the rugby and field hockey tournaments if they had any donations. People kept telling us that they had put their food in a blue tub earlier. After a lot of walking we realized that the bin everyone was talking about was the one that greeted us earlier; it had just been moved.
When we got back to the table, we bagged up the food. One bag got something from each of the most popular categories: noodles, milk (which does not have to be refrigerated here), and sugar. Once every piece of food was in a bag, it was lunch time. Someone was running a grill outside, selling food for cheaper prices than whatever sandwiches the country club restaurant offered. I tried something new and got a bbq pork sandwich. It was delicious. I don't eat a lot of pork, but I would eat that sandwich every day if I could.
Then we went home and slept. All in all, it was a good day.
Monday Night
Monday night was the first night of Passover. My host mom is Jewish so she had her (adult) children over for a nice, big, family dinner. I asked her if we could invite a friend of mine, who is also Jewish, over because he said he wanted to do something to celebrate the holiday. She said yes.
The food was delicious, of course. While I was expecting to eat different food, I was not expecting to see so many similarities between her family's Passover seder and mine. We ate salads, carrot and apple salad, artichoke hearts, pastrami (instead of brisket), gefilte fish (which was baked in a casserole so I mistook it for kugel when I first saw it), drunken pears (definitely taking this recipe home with me), honey cake. And, of course, matzoh. Lots of it.
The biggest difference between our families (besides the language people speak) is that, at least for one seder, we try to read the Haggadah. We make it to the story of Passover, skipping things here and there, and then we pig out. After dinner we might sing a few songs.
On Monday, no one even had a Haggadah. Before we ate, we sang a few prayers and all tried to sing the Four Questions (out of tune and out of order, even though some of us had the words in front of us).
Really, everything we did -- including being surrounded by a family that loves each other -- reminded me of home. Not in a bad way, because I am still not homesick yet, just in a "this is a good and familiar feeling."
Also, it was my roommate's first Passover. She rocked it. She can eat matzoh and dulce de leche like it's her job.
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