The Night of Passover

Monday night I went over to the Zuerkel families’ house bearing a bottle of French Reisling wrapped in lavender wrapping tied with a beautiful purple flower which I purchased from an organic market in Ramat Aviv. It was warmly received, of course. Myself, Reut, her two sisters, brother and parents made our way over to Reut’s uncles house on the other side of the city. The roads were packed with cars like sardines in a can all in a hurry to not be the last arrivee at the family gathering.
Gathering there before the whole clan had gotten there, we exchanged kisses, hugs and formalities. In Hebrew, I explained to everyone who walked into the door (and there were about 30 people) that I was Reut’s friend and we had been roommates in Haifa. All this was in Hebrew. For those of you who know me, you know I am rarely reserved or shy. I felt so out of my element surrounded by Hebrew speakers in an intimate family setting on a Jewish holiday…all things which I love but at the same time stressed me out a bit. I just sat back and observed more than I usually do.

Reut’s father led the Pesach dinner with every family member reading different sections of the story of Passover. The men sat wearing kippas (yamacas) all in a line. Reut’s father headed the table, leading the dynamic that set in for the whole evening. Raising your voice for your opinion to be heard is the norm. Even the reserved family members had learned throughout their lives in Israel that it is an absolute necessity to speak up, and loudly in order to be heard at all. Politeness is dismissed. If you want to speak, just continue speaking until everyone else gives up. Hands are decoration. No good story is complete without flying hands, exaggerated facial expressions and maybe even an uprising from the table! Meals with Israeli’s are anything but dull. The dynamics between the family are amazing to watch. Grandpa and Grandma sit at the end of the table mooshing their food around with the teeth they have left. The son and his Russian girlfriend hold hands and snuggle while engaging in conversation with the rest of the family. The women of the family are constantly moving, refilling the bowls with various salads- eggplant and garlic, lettuce, carrots with pecans, liver, radish, every salad you could think of. They check on the children, refill the table with napkins, drinks, and of course more wine. The kids scream in protest of vegetables and joy when they receive their presents.
The men huddled together on one side of the table, murmuring the blessings for the Seder. One began and another would follow, finishing his sentence. We leaned to the left to drink the wine with our right hands, sang all the Seder songs and ‘amen’ed when appropriate. The food was a blend of Turkish and Moroccan cuisine because her family is half from Morocco and half form Turkey. At the end, we sang a special Seder song in Hebrew and then again in a dialect of Turkish with Spanish influence called Ladino. Passover dinner is always quite lengthy so the teenagers became a bit restless. Jokingly, the men reciting the Seder began throwing wine corks at the kids who were talking, in a half-serious attempt to make the Seder more serious. By that time, everyone was enjoying the company, the food and the general atmosphere of the Seder. Huge fail. Giggles ensued every time the men would miss a throw, especially when they landed in various household objects. Throughout the course of Passover dinner each adult consumes four glasses of wine. Add the wine with the typical conversation style of Israelis and what is produced is an amusing evening. The cousins all got a little tipsy from the wine and then desserts come. Everything is brought to the table; desserts without yeast, coconut cakes, mint tea from the garden, even pictures form the grandma’s fashion show.