Let's do the time warp again

So the best part about working with kids and teens is that I get to be one. In the past week I basically relived the best parts of every age I've been so far. Even going back to high school wasn't so bad. Every day seems to be a surprise here.

I started in Kindergarten by helping prepare for the opening of the first public Jewish Kindergarten in Riga. I decorated the room with homemade art projects and ran errands with the teachers. Of course, running errands meant driving around the city, asking for our order, and then being told "what order?" When I said to the principal, "bad luck today," she simply replied, "no, that's just Latvia." Ha.

 

Then came elementary school, as the "degesh group" (5-8 year olds) and I ran around an indoor playground/maze/slide/wonderland. I actually played tag. And loved it. It was a little hard to keep up with the little rascals since I'm not sure I even had the energy of an elementary schooler when I was one plus the toys were not made for giants my size, but gosh darn I chased after those kids like it was my job (get it, because it is my job. maybe my sense of humor went back a few years too...) 

That night and the next day came a little bit of high school, mostly in that I was around high schoolers. We did what high schoolers do best: ate and watched movies. I showed some of the kids' madrichim about sweet potatoes, smitten kitchen, and "Clueless." I thought "Clueless" would be a wonderful way for Russian high schoolers to learn about American high school stereotypes (and realities) but I totally forgot how pretentious the language is in that movie. While the script might have been hard for them to understand, the clothes definitely were not. So at least they got the most important parts of the movie. The next day I hung out with more teenagers when I hosted the school of madrichim for another food marathon and afternoon of getting to know each other. I mostly got to know that they speak Russian very quickly. Just to remind you (because the programs and system still confuse me), the school of madrichim teaches 15-17 year olds about Judaism and program planning so that they can take over planning events and activities for the bamba (babies) and degesh (kids). There's a ton of overlap between the school of madrichim and the youth movement, which makes the whole thing even more confusing, but means I have fewer people to meet and more opportunities to meet them. Anyway, to reward them for a hard day of "school" we made french toast, cheese straws, and hot pretzels. Not that they knew what most of the things were, but, in typical teenage fashion, they ate all of it anyway.

Oh, I also saw "Gravity" with the teenage youth movement on Friday when I convinced (aka begged mercilessly) the teen programmers to turn the "night at the cinema" teen program into "let's all go see Gravity because I've been waiting to see it for months and I have the chance to see it for free!" What was particularly confusing about this night is that as we were leaving the theater,  I saw this: 

Free samples of alcohol... Yes, in a place filled with little kids, families, and teens, an alcohol company decided to advertise with actual alcohol. Oh Europe...

After all that time with high schoolers I had to spend time with people around my own age, so i entered the recent past by joining the university student's group, Chai+, in a billiards tournament. As it was only my second time playing, I didn't make it too far in the actual tournament, but I got to see the Latvian Billiards championship, I progressed from horrifically bad at pool to really bad, and I got to introduce my long lost cousin to the Jewish Community. Oh yeah, I found family in Latvia! Shocking.

I also took some much needed adult time, which landed me with free wine! I've gotten really good at the whole being overly friendly and meeting anyone who will meet me thing. It's gotten me some nice new friends and some really nice free things. First, a friend's friend was visiting from Manchester and I got to show him around the way so many others have shown me around. It was a great chance for me to realize how much I've explored Riga and how much I have left to explore. Plus, it was nice having a new travel buddy for a few hours. I also went to a wine bar with a friend and managed to befriend the waiter enough to get free snacks, drinks, and a pretty empty wine bottle that will make for a pretty decoration in my apartment. I like this place and I think it likes me too.
The only thing that would have made the lifecycle more complete was if I had knit with the babushka. Not so unsurprisingly, because this seems to happen a lot here, the teacher just kind of didn't show so I was left confused with the non-English speaking grannys. Eh, there's always next week. And what an interesting week it will be.

My Favorite Things. With guest host: Gnoam Chomsky

Welcome to a special edition of My Favorite Things! I am sorry to say my version does not include a free car, but it does include very cute pictures of a very cute gnome.

The gnome is Gnoam Chomsky and he is my best travel buddy.

He and I went for a photo tour of the city to show you all the wonders we've discovered in the faraway land they call Riga.

1. It's a city. It's a park. It's Riga.

I know I've mentioned this before and I'll mention it again. This city is all kinds of purty. Gone are the days of the concrete jungles where the only greenery is the graffiti (don't get me wrong, we still have graffiti, but it's more like outdoor art that just happens to have been painted with spraypaint). I'm not sure if I'm living in a city or a series of connecting parks that have buildings in between them. There are so many pretty trees that leave the land green and flowery in the springtime and the paths wyellow and red in the fall. And where there aren't trees, leaves, or flowers, the streets are clean thanks to the seemingly endless number of people sweeping them. Sometimes, it's nice to live in a place where appearances are important.

Oh, and apparently pretty places bring pretty weddings. I can't walk through the city on a Saturday without seeing at least 3 blushing brides (though they're mostly blushing because it's getting far too cold to take pictures outside. Anything for a pretty wedding album, I suppose). The only problem with so many weddings is that I'm seriously contemplating living out the movie Wedding Crashers and joining all of them. Free food and free dancing. What could possibly go wrong? 

Anyway, how many weddings can you spy with your little eye?

2. I'm living in a 90's flashback. Portlanders would be proud.

I think they're a little behind culturally, because, you know, they had a bit of cleaning up to do after the fall of the Soviet Union. What that leaves are so many bizarre things I have not seen or thought about in years but am happy to know still exist. Like these childhood favorites:

I can never really tell if I'm happy Furbies still exist, but I am certainly laughing about the many ways Latvians encourage me to show my love for those creepy fur balls with moving eyes:

They take creepy to a whole new level. Maybe the conspiracy theorists were right that furbies are actually soviet spies. That would explain why they're so popular in a place so close to Russia. Uh-oh.


3. I'm on the market. for food.

When I want to buy food, all I need to do is walk over to one of the markets for fresh fruits and vegetables.
Enough said.

4. It all gets mixed up in your stomach anyway. 

That seems to be their motto for food and restaurants. My belly is confused. 

First there are the snacks. I haven't quite figured out why most of them exist. And I REALLY haven't figured out why I like them.

Like these puppies. I tried them before I knew what they were. It's a mini dessert cookie that's crunchy and sweet and has the aftertaste of a spa. There's something oddly satisfying about them that kept me reaching for more.
Then I found out what they are: black bread + sugar + apples + nuts.
Black bread confuses me in general. Russians have 2 words for bread because apparently not all breads are alike: black bread (chliep) and white bread (boolkah). The first time I tried black bread I only tasted it because it was a sample, and I never say no to those. It was so dry I spit it out, chugged a bottle of water, and vowed never to return. And yet, it keeps coming back to me. First I got a loaf as a present, then I unwittingly ate these cookies. As it turns out, the flavor and texture of this dry, sharp stuff helps it soak up other foods beautifully. It's like Italian unsalted bread. Sounds strange but it just works.

Also, Latvians have found a crafty way to get their kids to eat their cottage cheese: they covered it in chocolate and called it dessert.
The first time someone told me to eat cottage cheese with chocolate I crinkled my nose and asked "why?" Then someone handed it to me and, since I've made it a personal mission to try anything cultural (that's vegetarian), I had to take a bite. Thank goodness what they called cottage cheese was a little different and a lot sweeter. It was creamy and sweet and almost like eating a chocolate ice cream bar. Very crafty, friends. You win again.

   

Oh, and I'm not sure how to explain these other than to say these are what marshmallows should be. They're kind of like a cross between a meringue and a marshmallow and they're wonderful.

You have to have a good kind of alcohol in a place that gets this cold and this dark and has a soviet past. And so, Grandpa, since I know you wanted to ask, "what do they drink in Latvia" here is my answer:

Balzams. I've only had the black currants version, but it was tasty. And apparently it's even better in the winter. They even use it for sore throats... They take alcoholism to a whole new level. And I might be robotripping for real soon.

Oh, and speaking of Balzams, there is a whole bar/chocolate shop dedicated to the classic drink. They made St. Peter's Basilica out of chocolate. They also had chess sets and so much more but I had to stop taking pictures so I can show my face in there again and taste it all. 

And now onto the weird things I haven't tried but couldn't resist showing off:

I've decided with this one that it says "not for kids" in English so that the Latvians won't notice and they'll sell more chocolate bars. Because every city needs it's entire population hyped up on caffeine. I did buy this one and I'll let you know how it goes.


And then there are the restaurants. Apparently every menu HAS to have pasta on it. Asian restaurants, Mexican ones. I guess there's something to be said for offering options and appealing to the masses? But I'm still not sure who thought of these fusions:

Interestingly, the sushi at the place pictured above is actually good. Even if it is an Asian/Italian fusion restaurant. As long as they don't put Italian in my Asian, I'll let it slide. Oh, and sushi is the cheap meal here because it's usually buy one get one free. Can't complain about that.

This is not a favorite thing this just had to be shown:

T.G.I Friday's was the only restaurant in the Russian airport and, along with McDonalds is the only American restaurant in Riga. At least the waitresses in this branch wear funny costumes. But the existence of this restaurant as a representative of American cuisine explains why Latvians think Americans are crazy.

5. There were a few other things I happened upon that don't fit into any category, other than that they're wonderful. So, enjoy:

This is from the Black Fridayesque sale. They hired free shuttles to make sure everyone could attend. And they apparently hired creepy ghosts to attack people and make sure everyone DID attend.

They have electronic cigarettes to make sure they can smoke inside and now they have these to make sure they can reek of the stuff all the time:

In how many languages can I say, "no thank you?"

And this is just great all around:

Thanks for joining me on my tour of the city while it is still warm enough to be outside.

Shabbat, beer pong, and Canadian Thanksgiving; the culture shock begins

            Aaah. Another week, another spa. I didn’t actually spend time in the spa this weekend, but I am not one to complain about staying in a nice hotel with nice families and nice, free food. This weekend was much smaller and quainter than the conference I had attended in Estonia, with roughly 15 of Riga’s Jewish families gathering for Shabbat shlufen an hour outside of town. While the families learned about Judaism and each other, I learned about cultural differences that sent me for a whirlwind.

            The first and hardest lesson came before the retreated even started, when I tried to help pack the car. Lesson number one: if women lift anything heavier than the family’s dinner they will not be able to have babies. At first, I thought this was a joke. I knew the men wanted to appear chivalrous and strong, but I didn’t mind bruising their egos just a little if it meant I could help. Then, when different men of different generations wrestled boxes away from me and yelled at me to protect my baby maker while the women agreed with their “science” I realized I had a problem on my hands. I can deal with cultural differences, but I’m not sure I can deal with misinformation. And I really can’t deal with weakness or misogyny. I appreciate that the men want to be helpful and recognize that this tradition might come from a good place, but I also appreciate the importance of female strength and independence. Taking heavy things away from me is like taking a bagel away from a Jew. It’s not going to happen. Not to mention, men can also get hernias and damage their babymakers from lifting. I never thought I’d miss the overly cautious PC American ways but absence makes the heart grow fonder and apparently stronger.

            Eventually, after the men packed the car, we were on our way. We got there, the men set up, the families filtered in, and the festivities began. We began the weekend the way any good Jewish gathering should begin; with singing, dancing, and eating. A good and enlightening first day.

The Goldstein Weinstein name represented on the family tree with a cute baby to show it off

            The next day was spent with family games, adult lectures, and kid activities.

 I spent most of the time with the kids, getting to know the programs and madrichim (counselors) that brought me to Latvia. I am continually impressed by the madrichim’s innovation and program execution. For this one activity, I watched a 17 year old transform into the cutest Russian babooshka (grandmother) I’ve ever seen. She had the headscarf, loud, shrieky voice, and everything. Even better, kids programs rely on basic enough Russian that I was only kind of confused! What an improvement!

            Shortly after lunch I returned to Riga for the Jewish University Students kick-off event: An American-style college party.  Yes, I left America and college for this. I wasn’t good at being a party college student when I was in college, and suddenly I was supposed to teach Russians how to play drinking games and have a rager… What a great way for me to show off my four years at school. So, I taught them beer pong because almost every other game proved too complicated. All in all, if all college parties were like this one I might have gone to more of them. It was organized and there were fruit and cheese platters galore. Either Russians have a better impression of Americans than I thought they did or they just party in style. The best part was that after the party was over and I returned to the spa, the adults were raging harder than anyone else. Russians know how to live it up.

            The next day was filled with more learning, as I found I could connect with the adults about psychology and middle child syndrome and the kids with games. I also learned a lot about eating. First of all, I would like to publically apologize for telling my Grandpa he uses too much salt and pepper. He ain’t got nothing on these Russians. Exhibit a and b:

I then learned about the many uses for jelly, ketchup, and mayonnaise. Jelly can replace syrup on pancakes. Fine. Ketchup can be used instead of sauce on pasta. Um… And mayonnaise can be used on, well, everything. Hmmm… It took me about half an hour to realize they were not playing, “let’s lie to the foreigner” and they actually do these things. Health be damned! Let’s over season! This is going to be my most interesting culinary adventure yet.

            After the retreat came a cultural learning experience of a different kind, as I was transported back to my hemisphere for Canadian Thanksgiving. I know it’s un-American, but so is living outside America. Plus, I’d already been to what is basically a 4 day black Friday at one of the local stores, so Thanksgiving was in the air.

This Thanksgiving still has the turkey and fall foods but none of the Native American murders. And, unfortunately, none of the football. But, when I saw the turkey wrapped in bacon, I knew I was home. Well, not my home, but maybe the home next door. 

I should get locked in my apartment more often...

I must have been a saint or a rebbe in a former life. That is the only way I can understand the luck I have had with this JDC gig. Or maybe this is the universe’s way of apologizing for locking me in my apartment last week. The only thing I can say with certainty is, things are looking up. Oh, and thank you JDC powers that be.
No, JDC did not pay me to write that. But you’ll all understand where I am coming from as I break down my past weekend:
I spent the whole weekend in Estonia.
At a spa.
Surrounded by amazing Jews and Jewish speakers.
With free food and wine.
And it was free (for me at least).
Oh, and I got to swim three days in a row (which, if you know me, is enough of a selling point anyway).
Now, I’ll explain. Last Monday, immediately after discovering that my power kicks were not strong enough to free me from my apartment and just before I found help to get me out, my boss called to inform me that I would be attending Yachad, the Estonian Jewish Conference. I was far too frazzled to think about what that meant or to understand the Russian he was trying to use, but it turns out the conference was just the solace I needed.
And so, when Friday came, I got in the car to travel the mere 2.5 hours it takes to get to the beach town of another country. Yes, it is in fact faster for me to get to the beach in another country than it is for me to get to the beach from my home in America … I like Europe. A lot.
The conference was at a hotel/spa in Parnu, a town filled with a beach, pretty houses, Soviet style blocks, and apple trees.

When I arrived, I was reunited with the fellow in Estonia, Jonah Adams. I think we were both pleased to have another English speaker again. He introduced me to the Estonian madrichim (teenage leaders) and we practiced our Russian over lunch.

By the time we got back from lunch, the rest of Estonia seemed to have arrived and the hotel was hopping. I was still a little overwhelmed by it all so I relaxed and prepared for Shabbat by going swimming (shocker). After I was refreshed and clean it was time for Kabbalat Shabbat. All of the families gathered for Shabbat songs, dinner, and a mime (still not sure about that part, but you got used to being confused when everything is in Russian). I also met some of the famous speakers who were in attendance, including the Israeli deputy ambassador to Helsinki, the Estonian American Ambassador (who had to cancel his lectures due to the American government shutdowns. Go figure), some Russian actress, and the Ken Jennings of Estonia. I was in for an interesting weekend.

I got my beauty rest and woke up to a wonderful European style  breakfast, the only lecture in English from the Israeli deputy ambassador, and a cooking lecture with the Ken Jennings of Estonia. Not so surprisingly, the Israeli deputy ambassador talked about Israel. The cooking lecture was a whole other story. All I know is you can open hardboiled eggs with your forehead, you can drank olive oil out of the bottle, and you can put fish and apples in the blender. It was confusing and I don’t think I’ll be using any of the recipes but it was my ideal way to practice Russian.
With my mind still reeling from the strange Estonian concoctions, I took a mental break by swimming and cheering on the runners of the charity “marathon,” (which was really a 3 km jog).

Then came lunch and Jonah and my chance to help with the conference. We led an activity for kids about the most recent Torah portions: creation and Noah’s Ark. It was a great way for us to play with the kids, work with the madrichim, and practice counting to 7 in Russian. We started by coloring in a wheel with the 7 days of creation.

Next, we taught about Noah’s ark with one of the best improv games, host at a party. One kid “hosted” a party, to which everyone in attendance was an animal. The host was in charge of guessing the different animals as they winnied, woofed, and crawled around her.

To wrap up, we ended the way any event with kids should end, with konfietes (candy). The kids sorted M&M’s into a rainbow while holding their hands behind their backs. They were happy, their noses were blue, and they had more sugar than they needed.

And, thanks to the Madrichim translating Jonah and my muddled Russian into something intelligible, I think the kids even learned something.
After a nice walk around town, dinner, havdallah, and a concert, came my personal highlight of the weekend: 6 regions of wine, food, and dance, in 60 minutes.

One of the best chefs in Tallinn presented canapés and wine from South Africa, Argentina, California, Spain, and Italy. We ate, drank, and danced our way around the world.

With each wine came a new dance, and with each glass came a little more absurdity. By the end, there were people doing tribal cheers for South Africa and the Cotton Eyed Joe for America. It was a perfect way for me to celebrate with the Jews of Estonia.

My weekend only got better, as I woke up for another swim before heading back to Riga. I was sad to go but always happy to be back in Riga. Especially because when I got back, I ran into some of the Jewish teens, who were nice enough to teach me pool. And I must say, very, very patient. It was a good weekend to prepare me for another good week.