TheBanyanTree: Yet another letter to India

[Tobie Shapiro]

February 16, 200000000006


Dear yawl,

	Inbetween being overwhelmed and freezing my hands off in the 
basement, I wrote another letter to my friend in India.  Here it is.

	Love,

	Tobie






February 16, 20000000006


Dear Phiroze,

	My ex wrote to me via e-mail (he never ever phones) and 
notified me that he wished to come over and collect two rugs for his 
use, as well as make an appointment to remove this gigantic desk that 
belongs to him.  It was actually a gift from a former colleague who 
turned sour on the Lab and disappeared after having been fired when 
he quit for the third time.  The desk is a modren chic monument with 
inlay and drawers that slide out and in effortlessly.  It takes up an 
enormous chunk of this room where I write and think and frankly play 
computer solitaire.  The space could be better used by some filing 
cabinets which are currently taking up space in the middle of the 
room.  I will be glad to see the thing go, stick by stick, which is 
how they will have to remove it, because it won't fit through the 
door in one piece.  I can't even remember how they got it in here.

	So this morning, ex came over and collected two rugs.  It was 
a busy time of day.  Meyshe's taxi was about to arrive, and Feyna had 
to leave for work.  Neither of the kids wanted to lay eyes on ex, so 
I had to coordinate ex's arrival, rummaging and leaving with Meyshe 
and Feyna's departures from the house.  Who will be downstairs and 
who will be walking out the front door while ex is formicating around 
the basement door.  All this to prevent a scene and trauma.  They 
really don't want to see him at all.  Feyna is adament.  She thinks 
that ex is an evil element in the world and is controlling her life 
from his perch in hell.

	I'm  not so sure.  Could be true.  Maybe not.

	What I do know is that every time ex comes over for any 
reason, it takes me hours and hours to get over the feeling that I've 
been violated.  I can't get him out of my mind.....how superficially 
sweet he will be in person while in private, outside my sight, he is 
writing nasty letters to lawyers and trying to undo me, stalk me, 
criticize my overwhelming job as a mother, take pot shots at me, do 
the kids out of child support.  It all makes me cringe.

	I need a respit from cringing.

	And in keeping with that prescription, this evening we were 
going to go with Yvonne to see an Ethiopian Israeli stand up comic 
(next year in Addis Ababa!  this is a play on something that happens 
during Passover, so if you don't get it, don't sweat it.)  But I 
couldn't get child care for Meyshe who would never sit through 
something like that in a crowd in a strange place listeining to 
someone with a double thick accent, once for Amharic and once for 
Hebrew.

	So we'll go to our Talmud/Torah teacher's house and study on 
the questions we asked her to do research on:  What is the Judaic 
attitude toward good and evil?  Specifically, how do we live in a 
world in which evil is going on in distant places, maybe even close 
by?  Do we tell ourselves, "Yes they are dying in Iraq, but now, in 
Berkeley, we must eat our lunch, maybe even enjoy it."?  What are we 
required to do about injustice, wretchedness, poverty, travail, other 
people's injustice, wretchedness, poverty and travail?  Can there 
ever be rejoicing, and if so, do we acknowledge the injustice, 
wretchedness, poverty and travail while we are rejoicing?  How do we 
live our lives?

	That will keep us busy for an hour.

	When we ask what is the Judaic attitude, we will not get a 
simple answer.  What we will get is a discussion of all the disparate 
views that great thinkers have had about the issue.  No one sage will 
be right and no one sage will be wrong.  We are told to know what all 
of them said if we want to form our own opinion.

	That's how it always was for me growing up:  a confusion of 
opinions, all demanding equal knowledge and attention.  There is no 
dogma.  Or damn little for a religion anyway.

	It's easier to get rid of two rugs and a desk.

	How are things in India, oh two fingered typist?

	Love,

	Tobie
-- 




Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net