A few months after my first conversion, I went to Israel as a volunteer. I ended up less than a mile from the border with Lebanon teaching English to recent immigrants. Any dream I had that Israel was Nirvana was quickly dispelled by shelling and frequent trips to the local bomb shelter. I would grab one of my elderly neighbours and try to run.
Only in Israel do people cope with the threat of annihilation with a semblance of normality. One of my neighbours would chat with her friends on the phone because her husband ran a phone line into the shelter. If we had electricity and could get a signal, we might watch TV. I tried to improve my non-existent Hebrew. The people who came from Eastern Europe would speak to me in Yiddish. I developed my own d=rt (distance=rate x time) algorithm to estimate how far the batteries were from us and how much time we had to make it to shelter. I read, “Self Portrait of a Hero” the letters of Yonatan Netanyahu while waiting for the “all clear.”
Eventually, every conversation turned to my background. My reddish hair and green eyes betrayed me. They called me “Gingi” and told me I didn’t look Jewish. I explained that I was a mixture of French, Sioux and Scots/Irish. This all lead to the fact that I was a convert. Most of them had not met one before, and sometimes warmth gave way to suspicion. The next question was always, why? What kind of crazy person choose to be Jewish? “Do you see the number on my arm? This is what I got for being born a Jew, and you are nuts for choosing this!” They told me stories of the camps or their expulsion from Tunis. I was told I had made a mistake. I would experience anti-Semitism. What was worse, I would subject my children to the same hatred they had experienced. There was little discussion. I couldn’t understand how people who had gone through so much to remain Jews would choose not to practice their religion. I never asked that question. I couldn’t walk in their shoes, but I could be a good and compassionate listener. It is one skill I brought back from Israel.
After I fulfilled my volunteer time, I made the decision to return to the U.S. My friends asked me to stay, and marry a nice Israeli, but I had nothing to live on and no marketable skills. I had no one to learn with and moving to Jerusalem to attend a seminary was financially out of the question. I wish G-d had tapped me on the shoulder and gave me some sort of advice, but that didn’t happen. I left home, and returned to the States.
When I came back I continued to learn. I met people who had grown up secular, but were now learning about their Jewish heritage. I also had to come out of the religious closet and face my family. Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.
Although my own family was not religious, my mom was bothered by my adult interest in Judaism and my trip to Israel. Christian holidays had never been a big thing in our family. Our Christmas tree always resembled Charlie Brown’s and the few gifts we exchanged included socks and underwear. Hallmark made no money off of us. All of that changed when I returned. I had been on my own since I was 17 and never had a Christmas tree. My mom made one of her few visits to my flat and insisted I buy one. Knowing she wouldn’t, I offered to let her buy a tree for me. I also told her I converted. She was flabbergasted. She turned my family on me.
Until my extended family found out that they had a Jewish relative, they never paid much attention to me. I didn’t look like anybody in my mom’s family, and family get togethers were the time to make fun of my looks, weight, height, interest in history, math and anything else they could take aim at. Now they wanted to “save” me. My cousin appeared at my door with a bible and the phone number of her Southern Baptist father in law. She prayed, cried and told me every biblical “proof” he had given her. My mom’s bigoted older brother paid a visit. I received bibles and letters. They started calling me, “Heb.” The family I never had became the family I no longer wanted to be a part of.
The best was still to come. My friends decided I needed to get married.
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