On Monday, September 30, I was off to Taipei's Jewish Center at
7:15 am for the first morning Rosh Hashanah 5780 service, riding the bike to Taiwan Railroad for a local train to the HSR. I
thought maybe I would stop in to New York Bagel at Taipei Station before
heading over there. There was a typhoon rolling east of Taipei so I was taking
care; a fold up umbrella, waterproofed Converse, and a plastic poncho for the
ride home if it was raining in Taichung I
would be in Taipei by 9:30 with a twenty minute subway ride and walk to the center,
so I wished I had an earlier ticket. I had to wait fifty minutes for the bullet
train, fifty more minutes to Taipei. I spoke with my son, Ariel, on the train up to
Taipei and text-messaged with Jim, the source of most of this journal
entry text.
I wouldn’t have time to digest the fat bastard
before the shofar was blown. It was
G-d's will. I had to leave room for the rabbi's wife's lunchtime, stay hungry
till then. Maybe I would get a sausage McMuffin while I was waiting, but Jim
urged me to hold on. The bagel was burning a hole in my mind. I had a plastic
bag to bring a half dozen home! What better way to bring in the New Year, a
bagel and a shofar. I would have brought bagels for Rabbi Shlomi but they're
not kosher.
Jim
and I chatted about Bob, an old friend, as we usually do flippantly. I had gotten a cedar
tree to plant in his mother’s name in Israel when she passed away but Bob
scolded me for wasting money not sending it to him directly. “If he lived
close, I would throw a plant pot with only soil in it through his window,” Jim
retorted. I wanted my Israeli gift sapling back, I wrote and sent him a report from
a local activist about Israeli
occupation authorities approving the destruction of thousands of trees between
the western entrance of the town of Taqou’ and the entrance of the village of
al-Minya, southeast of Bethlehem, in the occupied West Bank.
When
I arrived at Taipei Station, I marched around looking for the N.Y. Bagel
restaurant for a good fifteen minutes. Finally, I gave up and found the Banan
subway line to the Brown line to Da’an, getting an egg salad sandwich to eat
outside the 7-11 as the rain fell around me.
I was warmly welcomed by the rabbi, as
I always am. He hugged me and introduced me as “the rabbi of Taichung” amusingly. A few congregants asked me if it was true; I’m a rabbi, a teacher. It’s true, I said, but I have no minyan. I am the only Jewish Temple in Taiwan. The Rabbi honored me when I was asked to read a prayer, in English, open
the ark, remove the Torah, parade it among the thirty-five men present ( a few
women sat out of sight behind a petition) to kiss, and cradle it in my arm for
the rabbi. Not too shabby; I was proud.
Afterwards,
the man opposite me at the table in the service complimented me on my heartfelt
reading of the prayer. He sat down next to me upstairs when the smorgasbord
lunch was served. I had a great lunch at the center, and spoke with the Zionist pleasantly when he asked what brought me to Taiwan. When I told him the
story about being shunned by my gentile playmates in Brooklyn, it opened a door
for him to talk about Israel and the Muslim in similar terms. I would not let
him get away with reverse-discrimination and fired back. His attitude of
elitism, I’m afraid, is supported in such in the Rosh Hashanah prayer book; how
Israel is our land and our language is the one G-d loves best and we are the ‘chosen
people’, so you can’t blame the zealot for his attitude but I debunked his ‘original
occupants’ idea asking if the Native Americans should expel the white settlers
that took their land. I explained that Israel was disliked for its political
posture, not because of anti-Semitism; indeed, Jews and Muslims had lived side
by side for thousands of years before the European Ashkenazi Jews interfered with imperialist designs. Naturally, I
could not make a dent in his hawkish attitude. Jimmy Carter was a racist, he
said, for supporting peace, and Menachem Began would have changed his mind if
he lived to see. All I could do was
shake his hand; at least we both believed in the one G-d. We even joined a
minyan for prayers to all sentient beings over a goldfish the rabbi had.
After the service I walked to the
subway and met a few fellow worshippers on the train. One nice man, Michael,
held my attention talking about Taipei American School and I got off a stop too
soon to reach Eslite. I walked through the windy rain under as many verandas as
there were to Dun-Hua South Road and turned left passing Ren-I Road to reach
Eslite. I found nothing I wanted to buy so I turned my attention to bagels
again. I couldn’t find NY Bagel so I texted Leona and asked her to check for
me. She sent a map with a NY Bagel location a block from Eslite! I went off to
find it. Imagine my disappointment when after locating it and approaching the
counter I was told they were closing. They were not selling. I walked to the
Banan line to Taipei Station to see if I had time to find the one in Q square near
the Y3 exit. NY Bagel in Q Square only
had cinnamon and chocolate bagels and the place near Dun Hua said they were
closing early because of the wind. Q Square said they had no delivery because
of the weather. G-d’s will, indeed.
I had a great day. My wife, Leona, feels great,
rode her scooter to the hospital for the first time since February, and exercised on the
treadmill. I got to march around Taipei, talk with Ari, celebrate Rosh
Hashanah, and enjoy the rabbi’s wife’s delicious dishes. I shunned Krispy Kream
because of its roots of Nazi ownership and got no books or bagels, but what I
got is happiness and thankfulness that I am alive, healthy, and have my sense
about me! Shanah Tovah!
Copyright © 2019 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved
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