The Orthodox Jewish Mother and The Bumdog
“Imagine a man thrown into a jail cell with a madman. After a while the man realizes that he is losing his own sanity. Soon he will completely lose it. So he begins to talk to the crazy man, slowly talking him out of his insanity there by preserving his own. I wonder if that man would have any idea that he was following in the footsteps of the Hassidic Masters.”
-Elie Wiesel
I was going through the trash bins they got put out on Thursday mornings for garbage trucks. If you hit them early enough before the trucks got there, you could make good money digging though them for glass, bottles, and aluminum cans to recycle. Up to about thirty dollars as an average, one time I hit fifty. But they changed their schedule every couple of weeks. Sometimes I could do my whole route and load down my shopping cart without seeing a single truck. Other times no sooner had I started then the trucks were everywhere. Thats when I had to scrap the whole day. But today was pretty good, I got a good load. I did most of my round in front of the apartment buildings where you had all these wonderful groups of alcoholics, and diet cola addicts living together filling up their trash cans for a week so I could valiantly dig through pounds of freshly hatched maggots, leftovers, maxi-pads, diapers and dog-shit to get by another day.
I was on my final stretch toward the recycler on 3rd and La Brea, pushing my shopping cart full of goodies pass the private homes of this heavily Jewish neighborhood. Men in black suits, long black coats, long grizzly gray beards, with yumakas, black hats or huge black fur King-of-the-Cossacks headgear. The women long sleeved shirts, ankle length dresses, head covered in a scarf or a seemingly universally agreed upon big Barbra Streisand haircut.
They didnt bother me much. I actually had some admiration for their tight close-knit respect for their family and tradition. Even as this unapologetic clannishness saw me as being from outer space. As a 6'4, black bum Im used to people being afraid, or nervous at the sight of me. However most people usually try to play off any fear they have on seeing me bearing down on them on the same side of the street. But the Orthodox Jews had no shame in their paranoia. On the sight of me, grown men would actually get up and run! At least they were honest about it.
I was digging through this one trash bin in front of a house, when I see one of the long sleeved, ankled dressed, covered head types walking my way. I immediately started pulling my wagon towards the other side of the street to dumpster dive. She was a small woman walking her dog. As I start crossing the street, she calls out to me.
“I know you found allot of stuff in that one!”
What immediately hit me was her voice. Although obviously Orthodox she didnt have the thick foreign or square Yiddish accent I had become accustomed to hearing from these yids. Her voice was friendly, open, American liberal. Quite jarring considering the costume she was in.
“Huh?”
“My trash bin. There’s allot of recyclable in it.”
“Oh I havent looked in that one yet. “
“Well theres lots in there. You can have it if you want. “
“Thanks.”
Then she walked up to me her face was dark, intense and full of concerned.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah.”
“Do the police give you any problems?”
“When they feel like it.”
“Thats awful.”
“Thats the way it is. You know how some people are.”
“Yes I know. But its still hard to deal with.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I have some more plastic bottles out back, would you like them?”
“Sure.”
“Is there anything else you need?
“Um … Do you have any extra trash bags. I need some more for my cans.
“Ill check.”
She went into the back of her house. I stood there in front of her very lovely two-story brick farmhouse style home. From the house right next to her a middle-aged woman came out, she walked half way down the driveway when she looked up and noticed me. Upon which she turned tail, scrambled back behind her gated front porch. From there she just stared at me, as if waiting for me to make my next move. Only her eyes were visible, looking over the guardianship of her brick fence. “you have to give it to these Jews, at least they were honest about their paranoia” I thought to myself. The lady came out from back of her house and said hello to the woman behind the gated front porch.
“Hello Sara.” The lady with the plastic bottles said to the woman behind the gated fence.
“Hello. Ruth.”
“Thanks for that shovel, the boys will be done with it this after noon. Ill have them send it over to you when theyre done.”
“Oh dont worry. Take your time its not like Im dying to get it back.”
The women behind the fence said, shifting her eyes back and forth from the lady to me. From me to the lady.
The lady came down and gave me some plastic soda bottles with a few plastic shopping bags. When the woman behind the gate saw us talking she slowly came out from behind the brick fence, walked to the trash bin in front of her house, dumped a bag in and quickly trotted back into her house at the same time looking back over her shoulder at me.
The lady sez to me, looking over from the woman.
“A nice woman … But very fearful.”
“I hadnt notice.”
“Is there anything else your going to need?”
“No thanks this is enough … But can I ask you a question?”
“What?”
“What are those things?” I pointed to this thing that was like a hut. It had plywood walls and palm tree branches for a roof. Id seen them pop up all over the neighborhood. Behind houses, on the side of houses, and in every single synagogue and Jewish school. I once tried to asked this one Rabbi what it was, but he said it was too difficult to explain.
“Thats a Sukka.”
“A what?”
“A Sukka. You never heard that before?”
“No.”
“A Sukka is a Jewish tradition that we have this time of year. For eight days we eat all are meals in it. Its to remind us of the 40 years we spent in the desert. You see how its made fairly flimsy. Thats to remind us there is no real protection except God. And see the roof how its made up of branches, but not too many. Thats so we can see through up to God. The whole purpose is remind us of how difficult it was for our ancestors to reach the holy land. The poverty, pain and sacrifice they endured to achieve God purpose. Back in Detroit we dont have palm tree so we used cypress trees. As a kid when I thought of sukkas I always remember the smell of cypress.”
“Thats beautiful.”
“Yes it is.”
“But if you really want to know what it was like living like they did why dont you live in the Sukka for eight days?”
“Some people do. It depends on their tradition. I grew up in Detroit. And its somewhat impractical to live in a Sukka at this time of year.”
“But isnt the purpose to make you realize the power of God to protect? To make you closer to God?”
“Living in a Sukka in the middle of September in Northern Michigan will make you allot more closer to the hypothermia ward at the county hospital. Although your point is still well taken.”
“Ive been living in sukkas off and on all my life but I didnt know it. I remember being able to look up at the roof through to the sky, but I never thought about God while I was doing it. I wish I had heard about these sukkas before. I would have appreciated those spots more.”
“Its never too late.”
“Thats one of those sayings that Ive heard more times then Ive experienced.”
“Dont tell me youve given up.”
“I wont tell you that, but thats whats happened.”
“You cant let that happen. Theres a thing we call menataza. Basically it means your purpose for going on. God has a purpose for everyone even though we may not know what it is. But when you give up, you give up on Gods divine plan and thats a mortal sin.” She stepped closer to me. “Ill tell you something, there are days when I feel like jumping off a roof when I think about all the p6ople in the world and what they do to each other. But the reason I dont is because my religion forbids it.”
“Be nice if I had a religion like that.”
“What is your religion?”
“Nothing specific. My mother was something of a hippie. One week wed be in a catholic church, the next in a Buddhist temple then shed drag me to some damn place where people mediated all day surrounded by pictures of people levitating over fences. I pretty much have a open architecture when it comes to religion…. And what about you. Have you always been an Orthodox Jew.?
“No I used to be a typical left wing open minded liberal. You know I was an activist for all these causes. Always doing the right thing for the right people depending on how you look at it. But I just felt there had to be something more then what I was doing. Then I had my four children. And I didnt want them to inherit this huge void I was experiencing. Thats when I rediscovered the traditions and values of Judaism. The spirituality was just amazing. Amazing because even though I was a Jew, it was all so new to me. Judaism has been one of the saving graces of my life. Like I said if it werent for that Id have killed myself a long time ago. So while I still have problems it gives me the strength and direction that I really dont know where Id be without.”
“Youre lucky like that.”
“I know I am”
“Well as long as youre here, can I ask you another question?
“Yes.”
“I dont get to talk to many people who would know these things… Is there an equivalent of a “J” in the Hebrew language?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Oh really. I just asked because I know Jesus original name was Yeshua or Joshua-”
“Yes I know.”
-so I was wondering if there was even a J in Hebrew.”
“No there isnt.”
“So what do you call God? Yahweh? not Jahweh
“There is no name for God.”
“There is no name for God?? What do you call him then?”
“The name of God is too holy to be spoken by man. Its always silent.”
“Then what does Baruch Ashem mean ? Doesnt it mean thank God?”
“Yes but not literally. Ashem means the name or master. We say thank the name or the master but we dont say God because God is too holy to be spoken by men.”
“Then whered they get Yahweh from?”
“That was the Greeks when they were translating the Old Testament, they made allot of mistakes because Greek letters all signify sounds, but the Hebrew alphabet have letters that are meant to mean both sound and symbols. We write the word God but we dont actually say it. Because God is too great to be expressed in words. But the Greeks, they didnt understand this, or the ones who wrote it decided not to go along with it. When they saw the letter for God they decided to give a sound-JA or Jahweh or Yahweh etc.” Out of her dress pocket she pulled out a small notebook and a pen, sat down on the curb, and nodded to the space next to her. “Sit down Ill show you.”
“I dont like sitting down.”
“ … why not?”
“Because I got a bad leg, sitting down makes me uncomfortable.”
“Oh well I have gout, see my ankles” I looked. She was a small birdlike women but her calves and ankles were swollen giving her those piano legs I always associated with old ethnic women. “You can’t sit down because of your leg and I cant stand up for very long because of my legs. We’ll just have to make do.” She started writing on the pad.
“You see these are four letters the Hebrew alphabet. The first two are my name Ruth. There are no vowels in Hebrew. Then the next two are letters that dont have a sound. The first means ‘To Life’. The second is the symbol of ‘God’. When you write it you have to remember not to link the upper line with the lower line, cause that symbolizes how the material, which is this world, can never touch the spiritual, which is God.”
“Thats remarkable. I always thought it would be cool to learn Hebrew because I like to learn new Languages, but I had no idea it was that beautiful.”
“Can I ask you question?”
“Yeah.”
“You seem very intelligent, why are you homeless.”
“Well its not really one thing, its a string of things.”
“Do you have any mental problems?”
“Yes. Yeees I dooo.”
“Really. Do know you what kind?”
“To be honest Im going paranoid schizophrenic. I can feel myself getting crazier and crazier every day you know. Like I think cars are following me, or trying to hit me as I walk down the street. Now I dont really think this, or believe this is happening. Its just like a sensation that goes through my mind. Like Im looking at a tree in a park, and I start letting my mind go and can imagine the tree getting up walking away. I havent lost my grip on reality yet, but my hold on it is definitely loosening. Im not crazy now. But Im getting there. Id say in three or four years tops Ill be completely insane. I can see it coming like the darkness at the end of a tunnel that doesnt go anywhere.”
“I can understand that, I have mental problems myself. I suffer from manic depression”
“Yeah got manic-depression too.”
“One day everything seems so beautiful and I see that people deep down really are good and mean well. But then another day comes and I see the reality of what people are here and now. And gulf of what people could be, and the reality of what they are right now, and what they do to each is too great for me to look at day in and out that I just wanna die. People tell me to just stop being so sensitive to things like that, and just go about my own business and dont concern myself with anything else. But living my life totally mindless like some dronish worker bee is worse then death to me.”
“Yeah I know.”
“The other day I asked my son if he thought I was manic depressive, and he said ‘Not manic mommy. Not manic.’” She smiled at the cleverness of the episode.
“How old is he?
“Ten years old.”
“Does he know what manic-depression means?”
“Yes.”
“How does a ten year old boy know what manic depression is?”
“Ive been crazy for years.”
“Oh.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Well now Im going to take this down to the recycler and cash in.”
“No I mean in general. In life.”
“Oh I dont know. I barely know what Im going to do after I turn this in.”
“No really.”
“Well … what Im really planning on doing is going up into the mountains for a month or so and fast. I met a guy up in the park who said he would take me up there. Ive been basically waiting around waiting for him to show up again. Im thinking of moving up into the mountains.”
“Well whatever you do keep in touch. Write to me. I dont go around telling everyone meet how I felt like jumping off a roof. But when I walked up and saw you I notice you gave off such a nice energy and I … Hold on a second, dont go away.” She walked over to her driveway where a sleek black Japanese sports car was pulling out. She stopped at the window and started talking. When she was done the car drove back into driveway as she came back. “Thats my husband Bob. He suffers from depression too, but then he bought that new sports car and now he feels allot better. That sports car helped him deal with his depression… Maybe thats what you really need a new sports car.”
“Maybe.”
“You know he got a real deal with that one they usually go for around $37,000 but got a used one that was only two years old for $15,000 less. Lucky uh?”
“Lucky.”
“When he was shopping for a new car I told buy any kind of car you want just please dont let it be German.”
The car came out again, and again she went over to talk to him. When she finished she came back to me. I couldnt make out her husband, the windows were dark tinted as he pulled out of the driveway and drove away. Even though I couldnt see him I could feel him. I felt the strongest vibes in the world that warned LEAVE ME ALONE. I suppose I felt it even stronger because it was so diametrically opposite from the willingly open vibes Ruth gave off.
“Is he orthodox too?”
“No. Hes a very special man. Hes married to a orthodox woman even though hes not orthodox.”
“Are you a Hassid Jew?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Wild guess.”
“Do you know anything about Hassidism?”
“No. The only thing I know about it is they were the group of people back in Crown Heights Brooklyn that got into the swab with the blacks.”
“Yes that was another depressing affair.”
“There was a very small community of Hassid Jews back in Santa Monica. And they were very nice people. They invited me to several times to come and eat with. But every time they asked me I was always smelly and grimy. So I was always saying no. I felt bad I wanted them to known that it was me not them I didnt want to be around.”
“They were probable Lubavitich Hassids.”
“What?”
“Hassid is a sect of Judaism but there are different sects of Hassidism. Hassidism started back in Russia with a man called the Baal Shem Tov, which means the Master of the Word, in the middle of the 17th century. He believed in dedicating every facet of life to God. Eating, working, raising your children, singing, writing, even sex could all be done as a form of worship to God. He stressed experiencing God as opposed to just reading about in the scriptures. The key was being conscious of God in everything around you. Everything you did. All of what you absolutely are there God is. So that you must never exclude God from any of your thoughts or actions. For when you forget God even for a moment You forget why your really here and who you really are. Hassid means pious. And the Baalshem promoted living apart from the rest of society in small tight communities that would be pure. After he died his followers were known as Hassidics. They spread across Eastern Europe and became the dominant form of Judaism. During the war many of them emigrated here to America although they actually considered America Treyfe medina a decadent country.”
“Why is that?”
“All the freedoms they had here was contrary to theyre philosophy of discipline and obedience to the Torah. They felt that American Jews had been spoiled with freedom and materialism. But of course after the war freedom to worship was the main reason they came here. Hassidic Judaism is a very clannish faith. They only move around in theyre own community theyre own Kehilla which means community. At the head of this Kehilla is a Reba.”
“A Rabbi?”
“No its pronounced Reba. The Reba is everything to the Kehilla. He is their teacher, their spiritually leader, their guide in this material world back to the spiritual. Hes both their foundation on which all their problems fall upon and also their highest leader whose purpose is to serve as their intermediate link to God.”
“Like the Pope?”
“Something like that. Actually the Catholic concept of a Pope is derived from the Jewish Rabbi. The main difference is that the Catholics only have one in the whole world, whereas in Hassidism each Kehilla has their own. This makes them feel more spiritually connected because they have a personal relationship with this spiritually link to God. Thats why the whole community must always be close to their Reba. All their jobs and businesses are always close to their Reba and synagogue, because on the sabot its forbidden to use electrical or mechanical devices, so they have to be able to walk to their synagogues. You mentioned Crown Heights earlier. The problem there occurred partly because Crown Heights use to be a predominately Jewish neighborhood. But eventually the non-Hassidic Jews began to move away into the suburbs and other places. And the community began to see a large influx and Caribbean and Hispanics. And people say ‘Well why dont these Jews just move out of the neighborhood like the others?’. Well its not that simply for Hassidic Jews. Because they dont function as individuals, they cant move away as individuals. The whole Kehilla would have to make the decision to move some place else together. Which considering their businesses and homes, would bring up more complications then would really be worth seriously considering. So they stay there.”
“What a shame.”
“Not necessarily. A Reba in Russia after the Communist Revolution refuse to leave even though his temples and scrolls and books were all destroyed by the Bolsheviks. He said that God had put him there to preach Judaism and thats where he was going to stay. He could have left for Palestine or America but he refuse to leave his followers in the Kehilla, who couldnt possible leave with him. You see he was a Reba who thought of his responsibilities to his people first before himself.”
“What happened to him?”
“After the Germans invaded, the Kehilla was completely destroyed and he was force to leave for America.”
“So much for God wanting him to stay in Russia.”
“Yes. But that story is a inspiration to the whole Hassid community. Maybe that was the reason God wanted him to stay, so his story would live on as a model of loyalty for other. It is a powerful story.”
“I gotta give you that … Russia? Is that why you see all these rabbis with those big Cossack hats?”
“Yeah. Theyre probable Russian Hassidics. Those things are often passed down from their fathers. Thats why they still wear them even in this 100 degree California heat.”
“Im glad you explained it to me. I hate admitting it but I was beginning to just think they were just crazy. I hate thinking like because I know theres a reason for everything, but I knew I couldnt just walk up to them and ask them why they were wearing those damn things because every time they see me they get up and run.” Ruth nodded knowingly. “And that kinda made me frustrated not being able to figure out what they were doing, and it kinda makes me mad at them too. But I know thats just the way they are you cant change that …. Like those Sukkas. I tried asking this one Rabbi what it meant but he wouldnt explain it to me. I damn near begged him but he wouldnt tell me what it meant. he seemed like a nice enough fellow, but he really pissed me off.”
“Was he foreign?”
“Huh?”
“Was he foreign? He speak with a foreign accent?”
“Yeah as a matter of fact did. He was a foreigner.”
“Well maybe he didnt feel he knew English well enough to explain it to you. It can be a bit complicated to explain and if you arent familiar with the language you would be a little reluctant to get into a conversation about it.”
“Yeah … yeah youre right that was probable it now that I think about. Things are allot easier when you understand them. I must say youre awfully open minded for a Orthodox religious person.”
“Being a Orthodox Jew doesnt make you as closed minded as allot of people think. Its very strict and disciplined but it encompass everything. Every aspect of life. Even meeting people who are digging though your trash can.”
“Really? what does it say?” I laughed. “Have you been following the party line with me? And here I am thinking this was all just spontaneous.”
She laughed. “Well its actually very specific in the torah to show hospitality to all strangers. Its massimtounim which means good deeds. To always help the poor and needy. Theres a Jewish saying, ‘Do not stand and watch while your brother bleeds.’ Its one of the steps to being Tzedakah. Which translate into whats called in English, Righteous. The other two steps are study of the masters law, the Torah. And to perform those laws in everyday life at all times, mitzvoth. So youre right. Being orthodox means you must follow the word to the letter. You see how special my husband is? His not orthodox but hes still married to me.”
“Hes a lucky man.”
“I think Im the lucky one. But hes got problems too though. Im afraid depression runs in our families. My mother was a very depressive person, she got it from my grandmother. Gods know how far back it goes. Thats another reason why I have to stop it, I dont want my children to have it.”
“Yeah I get it from my mother too.”
“Depression runs in your family too?”
“No actually insanity runs in my family. My Grandmother was in and out of mental hospitals all her life. Then theres my mother whose not so much legally insane, but has definite mental problems. Which are worse because she refuses to admit to them. Its not so much depression as it is fear. My mother is a very fearful person. Very paranoid. Everyone was plotting and planning against her. All my life Ive been surrounded by so much fear its just ridiculously difficult for me to function. I tried many times to break away from it but I was never able to. But now I know Im going to have to. Im going to start by breaking it off from my mother. I just cant be around her any more. Its just not healthy for either of us. Ive been hoping all these years there could be another solution but theres not. You know I swear if I didnt know better I would think she was Jewish. One time at my school they had this Jewish comedian. He kept telling these Jewish mother jokes. I was the only one in the whole auditorium who laughed.”
“What is your mothers background.”
“My mother is Puerto Rican.”
“Your mother is from Puerto Rico?”
“Yeah.”
“You know when Spanish exiled the Jews from Spain, many Jews were allowed to stay on the account that they convert to Christianity. Theyre called Mooranos. And while they became Christens officially, they practiced theyre Judaism in underground chambers. And they were known for being very paranoid because if they were found out they would have been immediately killed, because the Inquisition was still going on. Your mother could somehow be a descendent of them.”
“Hmmm that would explain allot of things. Im not saying its true but I wouldnt be surprised if that was the case.”
“So when are you going up to the mountains to do this fast?”
“As soon as I get a new pair of shoes.” Looking down at my shoes. “These ones here are turning into sandals on me. And Im not going to be able to make it to mountains in these.”
Ruth stared into all the huge holes in my shoes separated only by threads rubber. “Yeah those shoes are going on a wing and a prayer. What size shoe do you where?”
“16.”
“Sixteen??? Really? Wow thats going to be hard to find.”
“Yeah.”
“Ill keep my eye out.”
“Thanks.”
Then she put her hand to her mouth as if a memory just surprised her. “Oh my goodness I told you my whole life story and I dont even know your name.”
“Bumdog.”
“What?”
“Bumdog.”
“I cant call you that.”
“Its my name.”
“Okay….Bumdog. I have to go now. But be sure to drop me a letter sometime so I know how youre doing.”
“Its a deal.” I reached out to shake her hand but she pulled back her hand and placed it against her chest.
“Oh, I never touch other men.” She said. “My religion prevents me from touching any other men but my own. I can touch my men, my husband and my sons. but no other.”
She smiled. Obviously enchanting by structure and tradition of this custom. It wasnt just a rule written in a musty old book. It was a eloquent living principle, just one of which she lived by, that gave her life meaning and structure. Coming out of someone elses mouth I would have dismissed it as gibberish. But she said with such strength and power in her face when she explained it, it made me not just understand but feel its purpose. Gods purpose. So much so I brushed of my initial impulse to reach out and grab her out of spite.
We said our good-byes and I walked my shopping almost to the end of the block when I heard her call me back.
“Bumdog! Bumdog!!
She was standing next to a tall man waving me back over. I pulled my shopping cart all the way back to them.
“This is Josh, Bumdog. And guess what?! He has shoes your size!”
“Hi how are you.” Sez Josh. He was dressed in old faded jeans and a T-shirt. He looked like a bum except he was getting hes things outta a brand new Mercedes. “Yeah Ruth was telling me you need some shoes.”
“Yeah.”
“What size do you where?”
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen? Wow I know it must be difficult finding shoes I wear 14’s and hard as hell for me to find em. I can only imagine what it must be like for you.”
“Yeah you try to explain it to people but they just dont understand how hard it is.”
“Yeah well I believe you. I have a pair of Nikes I can give to but their 14's.”
“Hey actually I could use those. Theyll be a tight fit but I need new shoes because Im about to go up into the mountains and the shoes I got on just arent going to make it.”
“Yeah I notice they arent in the best of shape.” He says looking down on his tattered shoes. “You wont be able to climb any mountains with those.”
“You see how things work out Bumdog.” Ruth said smiling.
“Baruch Ashem” I said.
“Baruch Ashem.” Ruth smiled.
“Baruch Ashem.” Josh added. He looked at both of us. “What did I miss a Hebrew lesson here?”
“Yeah! “ Ruth and I said simultaneous.
