A New Look for a New Year

-->

Monday, May 27, 2013 – A New Look for a New Year

 

Elliott surprised me this morning with his new look.  The change isn’t too radical.  In fact, at first I didn’t even notice the difference.  but if you look carefully, you’ll see that he shaved off the sides of his beard.  Handsome as ever, I’d say.  And definitely better than the time he shocked me by shaving off his entire beard.  That was when we lived in Fayence.  Fortunately, that look didn’t last long.  I guess now he’ll have to add a shaving ritual to his daily routine in order to maintain the new look.  I think it makes him look younger, don’t you? 

This has been a glorious weekend and more celebrating is in store for today.  There’s still some birthday cake in the refrigerator (that mocha buttercream is sinfully delicious!) so I think we’ll go out to Meadowlark Gardens for an afternoon stroll and a cake picnic.  

The cake on Friday night at Beth El

Marshall and Matt joined us at Beth El

Dinner at District Commons before ShowBoat at the Kennedy Center

Elliott designed a new T-shirt

Judy Bass took us to dinner at Cafe Renaissance

Sunshine, spring weather, smiles of family and friends – what a wonderful way to start Elliott’s 102^nd year.  We’re going to celebrate every single day.

Getting a Head Start on 101

-->

Thursday, May 23, 2013 – Getting a Head Start on 1-0-1

Last year at this time, we were deep into 100^th birthday celebration mode.  Guests were arriving from all over the country and our refrigerators (yes, both of them) were already bulging with party food.  This year, by contrast, the festivities for Elliott’s upcoming birthday are much more low-key.  So instead of stressing out, we’re feeling relaxed and are looking forward to the big day on Saturday.  But we’re getting a head start on the celebration.

First of all, today we joined a group from the JCC for a trip up to the Music Center at Strathmore in Bethesda, Maryland.  We were treated to an hour-long performance by students and faculty from the Levine School of Music followed by a tour of the beautiful concert hall and the stunning modern facility.  This is a venue that we hope to visit again in the near future.  Before returning to Virginia, the group had lunch at Parkway Deli in Silver Spring.  I surprised Elliott by arranging for a special dessert – a piece of strawberry cheesecake with a birthday candle.  Also, everyone on the bus serenaded him with “Happy Birthday.” 

Elliott has already received several cards, which he opened immediately.  (At his age, it’s smart not to wait around.)  And our friends Joel and Liz (Joel is “The Idiot” who wrote about his trek around the Mediterranean in The Idiot and the Odyssey) sent a pair of “idiotic” mugs.  We picked up a Wegman’s birthday cake inscribed with Elliott’s new motto: 101 and still having fun!

 

On Friday, we’ll have a special dinner at home with the boys (Matt and Marshall).  I planned a menu that I hope will please everyone:  skewers of marinated chicken with red and yellow peppers; kasha and mushroom pilaf; sautéed fennel, asparagus and arugula with shallots, garlic and goat cheese; a salad of mesclun with roasted beets, walnuts and raspberry vinaigrette.  After dinner, we’ll be going to Sabbath evening services at Beth El where Elliott will receive a blessing from the rabbi.

On his actual birthday, which is Saturday, we’re going to see Show Boat at the Kennedy Center.  The celebration will continue on Sunday, when our friend Judy is taking us out for dinner at a local restaurant.  We’ll keep the momentum going by having our neighbors over for a birthday gathering a few days later.  And that, I think, will be enough birthday for one year. 

It’s amazing how quickly the months have passed since the big long-weekend celebration in 2012.  Over the course of the past year, Elliott has maintained his energy level and his positive outlook.  If only his vision were better, though.  He thought he’d been using stick deodorant, but I discovered this morning that he’s been applying Resolve Laundry Stain Removal Stick to his underarms.  No harm done, however, and his armpits are sparkling clean!

Misty Morning Memories

-->

Sunday, May 19, 2013 – Misty Morning Memories

Proust had the aroma of his madeleines to trigger memories of childhood.  I have the scent of misty mornings to transport me back to my adolescence and summers in the mountains of North Carolina.  This morning, a light fog hangs in the early morning air.  It tangles with the green that swamps the trees.  I draw the muggy scent of the woods into my lungs, and once again I’m the awkward 14 year old whose life is a series of miserable episodes. 

Of course, in a more just world, I wouldn’t have been stuck in rural North Carolina for two months of the summer.  No, not when I belonged in Paris, sitting at a café on the Left Bank, discussing the philosophy of Sartre and Camus.  I’d have French boyfriend, of course.  We’d sip absinthe, smoke cigarettes, and then we’d slip away to….  Well, enough said.  At that stage, I was still too naïve about the opposite sex to have any idea what we’d do next.  Anyway, it was just a fantasy, and I wouldn’t cross the Atlantic for several more years.  In the meantime, I was a self-consciously intellectual New Yorker out of place in a distinctly non-intellectual Southern locale.   

To say I didn’t fit in was a major understatement.  But my parents had chosen this particular camp because it was owned and operated by close friends of theirs from Georgia.  (Yes, my mother is from Atlanta and my father grew up in Augusta.)  So for several summers, my brother and I had been making the pilgrimage from Long Island to this outpost of Southern Jewry in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  And every summer, I immediately became my cabin’s make-over project.  I can hardly blame my fashionable cabinmates who had hauled trunks full of Madras shirts, hair dryers with domes, and palettes of eye shadow from their homes in Miami, Atlanta, and other hometowns south of the Mason-Dixon Line.  With the artless cruelty of the young, these self-assured young women were convinced they were doing me a favor.  Unlike my daughter, who sailed through adolescence with incredible beauty and grace, I was in a prolonged awkward and unattractive phase – and I knew it.  Despite their best efforts, however, I remained hopelessly unstylish as well as socially inept.  The weekly dances were agony.  I did my best to ignore the boys my age, and the boys, even the gangly and pudgy ones, did their best to ignore me.

Aside from enduring the social aspects of summer camp, I didn’t enjoy being stranded in the great outdoors.  I couldn’t fathom why anyone would choose to be in an environment full of bugs and insects and dirt.  Fortunately, the camp had a library and I spent as much time there as possible.  When the library was closed, I’d wander by myself in the woods.  I chose not to participate in most of the activities, such as swimming, boating, water-skiing, softball, volleyball, tennis, camp craft.  I made an exception, however, for arts and crafts.  Although the projects were strange – popsicle stick constructions, lanyards with plastic gimp, etc. – at least I felt more comfortable there than I did with sports. 

I suppose I learned things at camp.  I may have learned to tie knots and start a fire, but those are skills I forgot immediately. On the other hand, some of the things I learned at camp have remained with me to this day.  For example, I can still chant the grace after meals in perfect Hebrew.  I didn’t even look forward to mealtimes, when we all crowded into the dining hall.  The food wasn’t particularly memorable, except for my first taste of grits.  I do recall supplementing the meals with three or four ice cream sandwiches a day, which I purchased from the camp store. 

This morning’s musty forest aroma has unleashed a flood of details: how we all dressed in blue and white for Shabbat and attended services in the open-air chapel; how we painted our faces for the dreaded Color War; how the warm water tasted from my dented metal canteen when we went on hikes. 

It certainly was not a happy period in my life, but I savor the memories, perhaps because it reminds me of how far I’ve come since those days.  With the summery weather here to stay for a while, I look forward to stepping out each morning, taking a deep breath, and waiting for more hidden memories to come swirling to the surface.

Into the Pool

Tuesday, May 14, 2013 – Into the Pool

I knew I needed some real relaxation after my busy week in New Mexico and the inundation of family activities when I returned.  The solution?  SpaWorld, the 24-hour Korean spa in Centreville.  In case you’ve never been there, the best way I can describe it is a water-park for adults, plus a meditation center with interesting food.  My favorite part of the multi-sensory experience is the pool area.  There are actually two pool areas, one for women and one for men, because there’s a no-clothing policy.  It made me a little uneasy on my first visit a couple of years ago, but I quickly overcame my self-consciousness.  It’s liberating to leave your vanity behind for a few hours. 

Obviously, no photos are allowed, so I’ll just mention a few of the features that I particularly enjoyed.  In the pool area, there are multiple pools, with the water maintained at different temperatures.  The main pool, at a comfortable 90 degrees, features water jets at various levels, allowing you to target shoulders, lower back, legs, feet, etc.  It feels like you’re getting a massage, and I emerged from the pool with a sense of total relaxation. 

Then it was on to the poultice room.  In this large open area shared by men and women, everyone wears the baggy shorts and top (in a particularly hideous shade of mango) that you are given when you enter the spa.  In the poultice room, I had my choice of several therapeutic chambers, small rooms that supposedly provide various health benefits.  For example, a short stay in the Amethyst Gem Room will help remove toxins, improve blood circulation, and cure certain geriatric diseases.  I can’t validate this claim, but I enjoyed my five minutes in the 151 degree domed chamber, which was lined with a multi-colored stone mosaic.  I skipped the Red Clay Ball Room because it hurt my feet to walk in.  I was tempted to try the Salt Room, despite its 163 degree temperature, because it claimed to break down cellulite.  It felt surprisingly comfortable once I was stretched out on the floor mat with my head resting on a wooden support.  I ended with a quick but refreshing visit to the Blue Onyx Ice Room, a frosty ice-lined chamber. 

Then it was time to sample the Korean cuisine.  With a juice bar and a restaurant, SpaWorld offers plenty of options.  Unfortunately, about two-thirds of the menu was off-limits because the dishes were clearly labeled as spicy – Koreans are immensely fond of crushed red pepper – but with careful ordering, I was able to enjoy a complete Korean meal.  I love the Korean tradition of serving several small dishes to accompany the main course.  Along with a plate piled high with an udon noodle and vegetable stir-fry came with a comforting bowl of miso soup; a small dish of crispy pickled vegetables; a sesame-garnished dish of marinated green beans and fried tofu; some cubes of something gelatinous that was an unappetizing shade of gray but tasted delicious; and the requisite bowl of kimchi, the very hot pickled cabbage, which I avoided. 

Before I ventured back into the outside world, I spent an hour or so curled up in one of the spa’s comfortable chairs, leafing through magazines (there is a selection in both Korean and English) and savoring the sense of serenity that my visit to SpaWorld had engendered. 

Time Travelling in the Land of Enchantment

Monday, May 13, 2013 – Time Travelling in the Land of Enchantment

Enchanted Mesa - seen from Sky City (Acoma Pueblo)

 

I offer my apologies for not blogging sooner.  I spent most of the past week time-traveling through New Mexico.  I’ve been an Acoma Pueblo Indian living in an adobe house on a high mesa in 1200; I’ve been a Spanish Jew forcibly converted to Christianity in 1391; I’ve been a converso fleeing to New Spain after the Edict of Expulsion in 1492; I’ve been a converso living in fear of the Inquisition in Mexico City in the 16^th century; I’ve been a proud Spaniard army officer leading a group of settlers to the northernmost regions of New Spain in 1598; I’ve been a 17^th century crypto-Jew in an isolated village who lights candles every Friday evening; I’ve been a Pueblo Indian rebelling against the Spanish in 1680; I’ve been an 18^th century Catholic priest who guards the secrets of his crypto-Jewish family; I’ve been a 19^th century Jewish immigrant from Germany starting a new life in Albuquerque and giving money to complete the Church of San Felipe de Neri; I’ve been a modern-day Pueblo Indian seeking to retain the ancient rituals of my people; and I’ve been a 21^st century Catholic woman from an old Spanish family, discovering my Jewish ancestry for the first time.  No wonder I’m exhausted!  

Sky City (Acoma Pueblo)

Sky City (Acoma Pueblo)

Interior of San Felipe de Neri in Old Town Albuquerque

Old Town Albuquerque

Santuario in Chimayo

From our expert Road Scholar lecturers and from the recommended readings, I gained a wealth of information about the history of conversos on the Iberian Peninsula and then in the New World.  We concluded the program by learning about how today’s descendants of conversos and crypto-Jews are dealing questions of identity and their past.  In addition to attending lectures, we explored the city of Albuquerque (the Pueblo Indian Cultural Center and Hispanic Cultural Center were standouts) and the surrounding area.  Field trips to Sky City (the Acoma Pueblo village on the high mesa), Chimayo (its church is the holiest Catholic site in New Mexico; the village was settled by conversos), and Santa Fe (the colonial capital city) added immensely to our understanding of the unique blend of cultures (Native American, Spanish, and Anglo) alive today in New Mexico.  In addition to the fascinating history and culture, it’s a world like none other in terms of the landscape.  What it lacks in greenery, it makes up for with dramatic rock formations, seemingly endless vistas, and an enormous dome of sky.  I understand now why New Mexico’s nickname is “the land of enchantment.”   

The only disappointment of the trip was the traditional New Mexican cuisine.  I’m not a big fan of chiles, which seem to be included in every dish.  In fact, the official state question is “green or red?”  After one scorching taste of enchiladas doused in red chile sauce, I quickly learned to specify “chile on the side.”  This, however, resulted in some boringly bland and heavy meals.  And while the sopaipillas, cheesy quesadillas, and freshly prepared tortilla chips were tasty, the high fat content was a challenge for my indigestive system.  I’m sure my stomach is glad to be back home. 

But this trip gave me a greater appreciation for the rich diversity of our country and made me eager to continue exploring the U.S. 

Cinco de Mayo

Sunday, May 5, 2013 – Cinco de Mayo

 

Eleanor and I touched down in Albuquerque last night just as the sun was sinking behind the mountains.  The airport terminal was quiet, all the restaurants and shops closed down for the day.  After the mammoth sprawl of Dulles, it was a pleasure to find the baggage claim area just a short walk from the gate.  By the time we went outside to wait for the hotel shuttle bus, the darkness was complete.  “Where’s the traffic?” we asked our friendly driver.  “Oh, we never really get much traffic here,” she informed us.  Clearly, we’re not in the DC area anymore.  Our hotel, the MCM Elegante, reinforced that impression.  Although I was tired after a long day of travel, I could appreciate that the colors and contours of the building were inspired by the adobe architecture of the Southwest. 

Since our Road Scholar program didn’t begin until late this afternoon, we had the day free.  I managed to stay in bed until 6 am, but then got up and checked the weather.  The wind was still blowing pretty hard, so we decided to leave the Sandia Aerial Tram for another day. 

Then I realized today was Cinco de Mayo, so I checked online for special events.  There was the Cinco de Chihuahuas Adoption Day at the city’s animal shelters – can you imagine Elliott’s reaction if I came home with a Chihuahua as a souvenir?  We could go to a traditional Matanza feast where they roast a whole pig.  On second thought, maybe that wouldn’t be such a great idea for a quasi-vegetarian.  Another possibility, although it had nothing to do with Cinco de Mayo, was an afternoon Albuquerque Isotopes (minor league baseball) game. 

After careful consideration, we opted to start our day at the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History.  Although it’s quite small, the museum has an impressive sculpture garden, the highlight of which is entitled La Jornada, an ambitious bronze piece portraying the 1598 journey of 600 settlers north from Mexico into the northernmost region of what was then called New Spain.  

In addition, we enjoyed seeing the museum’s interesting permanent art collection (including a painting by Georgia O’Keeffe), and a very informative exhibit on the history of Albuquerque – or Alburquerque, with two r’s, as it was originally spelled.

A Georgia O'Keeffee painting from the museum

By the time I finished looking at all the museum exhibits, it was after 1 p.m. and I was famished.  Since Eleanor is on Weight Watchers, she explored the gift shop while I devoured a cup of delicious but sinus-clearing tortilla soup with green chile, half a turkey sandwich, and a mini lemon-blueberry cupcake at the museum’s café. 

After our museum visit, we strolled over to the plaza in Old Town and sat down on a bench to contemplate our options for the rest of the afternoon.  It was a very pleasant spot, despite the preponderance of touristy T-shirt shops.  In the shady park at the center of the plaza, a young female singer/guitarist was giving an impassioned performance.  The sun was shining on the San Felipe de Neri church, turning its adobe walls a rich buttery hue.  We also observed an interesting ritual.  Cars would drive around the plaza very, very slowly, just to be seen.  The same white Silverado pickup truck passed us three or four times, as did a vintage purple and white striped Corvette Stingray.  Isn’t there a Spanish word for this activity? 

Since the winds had moderated, we decided to give the Sandia aerial tram a try.  Yes, the taxi ride up to the tram was $56 and tram tickets cost $17 each (with our senior discount!), but it was worth it.  This is the longest aerial tram in the world, and we had magnificent views of the stark landscape during the 15-minute ascent.  The temperature at the top was only 46 degrees, so we didn’t linger at the summit.   

 

The view as we ascended on the aerial tram

 On the tram ride back down, Eleanor had a brilliant idea.  She called out to the crowd, “Who wants $25 to drive us back to our hotel?”  We ended up getting a ride from a young couple from El Paso who told us that the Texans don’t like the New Mexicans.  When we asked why, they insisted that their cultures were very different, but they couldn’t give us any specific examples.

Exhaustion struck us late in the afternoon, due to a combination of jet lag, altitude, and sightseeing.  Fortunately, I had a chance to lie down for about an hour before the official start of our Road Scholar program.  We met for the first time at dinner, which was followed by our welcome orientation session.  There are 27 in our group, with a big contingent from California, but several East Coast participants as well.  I hope I’ll get a good night’s sleep so I’ll be ready for class at 8:30 tomorrow morning.