Christmas Jews
This time of year is always steeped in nostalgia. Every Anglo reminisces about the lovely atmosphere during the season of good will, looking at the lights, the dressed up shop windows and the decorated trees. Oh, and those cold winter nights crunching through the snow. Ah happy days! Well, go back then if it was so wonderful. I have nostalgic moments too and then I remember how bloody cold it was, how I was excluded from the office parties because I couldn't eat their food, drink their wine and didn't want to wish every stranger 'Happy Christmas' and kiss some drunk secretary under the mistletoe. Ok, maybe the mistletoe thing... I was more interested in rushing home to light Hanukkah candles and publicize the miracle of how the few vanquished the many, how we stood on the brink of extinction, culturally and religiously, to be saved by an army and leader who knew that the Hellenization of the Jews would have destroyed them just as surely as any holocaust. An unfortunate drop of discrimination
The 7:43 train pulled out of Modi'in Central station. I sat on my seat mildly out of breath after a last second sprint and acrobatic dive saved me from waiting another 25 minutes for the next train. In the UK, when you're on public transport, the idea is to be as anonymous as possible. You don't look at anyone and you certainly don't speak to anybody. In fact, if you say hello or ask an innocent question about changing trains, people look at you with suspicion and you are immediately branded as strange and people will avoid sitting near you. Great, if you're on a packed train. |
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