Tico Passover

Before I describe the wonder that was Tico Passover, I have an announcement to make. I just received my permanent site assignment: for the next two years, I am going to be living in the coastal town of Puntarenas. From what I´ve seen, Puntarenas is like Detroit on the water. It used to be the thriving port city of CR, but the port has since moved and what is left is the shadow of a former city. I will be living in a government housing project on the outskirts of town. I´m actually really excited about my assignment because I will have other volunteers near me, strong Tico counterparts, and access to the albergues (orphanages). I´ll let you know more about the site when I get there in a month.

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Let me tell you, getting in with the Jews here was TOUGH. My training director said that she would secure the two other practicing Jews and me seats at the seder of the Synagogue here in San Jose. That meant names, photos, home synagogue references, telephone numbers and ID. I even had to bring my passport to the seder. However, once I passed through the high walls to get in, I could see why they were so protective. They have one of the most beatiful synagogues I have ever seen.

The first building containing administrative offices, a cafetreia and a museum has an atrium opening out onto a sprawling lawn perferated by stone paths. These paths span the length of a football field or so over the grass to the main building. Inside the great stone building is the sanctuary which is the size of Avery Fisher Hall. There, I had Havdallah and Mincha.

The funny thing about this Orthodox congregation was its similarity to my beloved Brotherhood Synagogue. People were social, outgoing, and more often than not...white. This community started before WWII; as pogroms and oppression spread, Jews from Eastern Europe moved here. Why? Because Costa Rica did not charge a twenty-five dollar fee like most other countries in this hemisphere. So the community grew and grew and the result was the fine three year old synagogue that I was standing in.

I made a lot of new friends. The President (or at least I think was the president) sat me down near the beamah with is friends Ariel and Rodolpho. We chatted for a long while about the Peace Corps and my work and after a bit I realized that I had been speaking Spanish when one of them asked me if I spoke Hebrew. "Of course he does, he studied in Israel" boasted the President. I asked him how he knew and he told me that he saw my student visa in my passport. So of course the three of them shot me questions in Hebrew, and I suddenly felt that the giant building of worship was the Tower of Babble. I did the best I could with the three languages and felt relieved when people came over and introduced themselves in English. I left the service with invitations to services, shabbat dinners and even a free crocadile tour by the director of a tour company.

After we put our sidurs away, I met up with my two female fellow volunteers (yes, we were separated), and we filed into the dining room for our seder. The seder was sponsored by two Chilean Rabbis from Aish Hatorah. The set up was beautiful, complete with specially made hard-bound hagadahs for the Synagogue. At the table with us was a fantastic family of Eastern European grandparents, a Tico-Israeli couple and their friendly children. FYI, Emile, one of them lived and studied in Pikesville, MD. The seder was interesting; not a single detail went unquestioned. And it was in Spanish (I got a kick out of seeing the word "pesach" spelled "Pesaj"). The seder took all night and I loved all of the differences. Here, the bitter herb is lettuce (weak sauce). The matzoh balls were almost inedible, and I think that I may have scared people by forcefully asserting that mine were far better. After the meal, we actually continued the sevice with an hour of song. The family at our table really got into it and I eventually found myself belting out the songs I knew. The entire table was rewarded with Kosher for Passover lollypops.

By the end of the night, I felt as if the family was part of my own, and told them so. They responded by giving the three of us kisses and a ride home.

I must admit that I was hesitant about going to the seder, as Passover is my favorite holiday; a holiday I associate heavily with family. But I am so glad that I found a Tico-Jewish home for myself, being so far away from the Jewish haven of NYC. Just being in a synagogue was comforting, as was hearing the familiar prayers that I have become used to repeating in the solitude of my room in the house of my Catholic host family.

I hope that all of my friends and family back home are having a Chag Sameach. And if you aren´t Jewish, I hope that you are enjoying everything American that I miss.

Dave