Things have been moving fast. Since my last entry, i've:
Attended two seders. One was led by Rabbi Ari Weiss and Rabbi Charlie Buckholtz in the East Village, and was concise, pleasant, and full of spirit. Rabbi Weiss quoted Michael Walzer and Soren Kierkegaard, and talked about happiness. According to a certain harvard professor, happy people tend to say thank you to other people, to appreciate that they have others in their life.
The other seder was at my parent's house in brooklyn. It was also on the short side, with family, nice food, and familiarity.
I have mixed reactions to being home for Passover. I am relieved to be home, safe, and among my "own people." I also feel changed, and am little dissatisfied with the even familiarity of what ought to be home. Things feel small and easy, New York is a bit dead after Southeast Asia.
Earlier this week, I went to a benefit at the New York Athletic Club for an excellent Cambodian charity. The club is a bastion of privilege and power, situated on the Southern edge of Central Park. My grandfather worked as a waiter at the club, and once told a story about receiving a $5 tip from a Cardinal.
A successful Cambodian friend tells me that his mother and family can't even begin to comprehend his job, reality, or lifestyle. He grew up in extreme rural poverty, and now lives in Phnom Penh, a full partner in a land trust.
Perhaps you can't really go home again.
Loisaida is a term derived from the Latino (and especially Puerto Rican) pronunciation of "Lower East Side", a neighborhood in Manhattan, New York City. Loisaida Avenue is now an alternate name for Avenue C in the Alphabet City neighborhood of New York City, whose population has largely been Hispanic (mainly Puerto Rican) since the late 1960s.
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One of the profs here at the bioethics center who works in global health tells me he prefers spending time abroad because he doesn't feel 'at home' anywhere. Outside the US, he can escape the dissonance of feeling like a foreigner in his own country.
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