L'hitraot - Leaving the Abayudaya

I leave the Abayudaya in two days and I am by no means ready to go. I know I have done a terrible job of keeping my blog updated, so here is an entry to try and summarize my experience.

I have been living blissfully here, asking all the questions I can think of to all sorts of people, eating well at every meal (and in between meals), moving around, playing, learning. Everyone here tells me to delay my departure, that they are sad to see me go. One of my host sisters told me I’m leaving a hole behind and their next visitor will not be able to fill it. I’m not sure if they are just paying me lip service, or if they are genuine, but it sure is comforting to hear.

The past few weeks have been my happiest in Uganda. Some days, without any reason, I experience this overwhelming sense of giddiness. I just get so excited about where I am, what I’m doing, and whom I’m spending time with. I’m going to miss the dark nights lit by a single lantern, all of the kids singing, playing guitar and teaching me hand games. I’m going to miss philosophical Jewish discussions in the middle of rural Uganda. I’m going to miss the friends I have made, the families I have been welcomed into. I will miss the African melodies during Shabat services, drinking beer for Kiddush instead of wine, sniffing lotion at Havdalah instead of spices.

My first week here I couldn’t get over the Jewish presence in these villages. I thought it didn’t belong. Living such a life in such a setting seemed awkward. But now, now it is completely natural to me. I don’t think twice when kids break out into “David Melech” or when I see men wearing kippot. It doesn’t matter that the founder of this community wasn’t born Jewish. What matters is that people here have been Jewish for generations. They have been Jewish from their birth up to today. They know they are Jewish – what could make them more Jewish? Sure, I feel connected by my lineage, but they feel connected by the Torah. Their existence is therefore no more bizarre than the Jewish populations in Ethiopia, India, or the United States for that matter. We are the same – believing in an ancient religion, upholding old customs, perpetuating a similar culture.
I can’t deny, though, that I have grown up in a different place with different privileges, and therefore will always be different from this community. But still, when I leave Saturday, I will leave knowing that I will always have a place here.