Dati

Today in class we had a involved discussion about family relationships. That doesn't mean such deep topics as two-parent families vs. one-parent families and their effects on society...We are yet babes in the language. We learned how to say sister, sisters, father, fathers, brother, brothers, uncle, uncles, married, single, oldest, youngest, only child, and other such words. Then the teacher went around the room stressing people out by asking them simple questions like this, "Rami, do you have brothers or sisters?" "How many sisters do you have? How many brothers?" This is always an interesting moment in class- I take delicious pleasure in having seven siblings in a room full of two-sibling families. "Katie, how many brothers and sisters do you have?" "I have three brothers and four sisters." "Really! How many is that total?" "Eighty." Okay, okay, I don't really, but eight an eighty are almighty close in sound and syllable when you are nervous and speaking in another language. At least I provided entertainment for the rest of the class.

I was also provided with the opportunity I had been looking for recently. I couple classes ago I realized that my teacher labored under the impression that I was Jewish. It was a completely understandable impression, but I didn't want her to continue under it for long.

A week or so ago we were having a discussion about the Jewish holiday of Purim (celebration of the story of Esther). She went around asking the Jews in the room what they had done for the holiday celebrations. The usual activities are highly suspect in my book- getting very drunk and having loud parties. Not that I am against loud parties in general, but well, you know. Anyway, she asked me if I had danced during Purim. I suppose I could have come up with some smart response, or something goody-goody, or used the opportunity to say I wasn't Jewish, but none of these seemed right, so I just slunk down in my seat and said that no, I hadn't danced during Purim. Sigh.

So today, after our class discussion about families, we had to talk to our neighbor one-on-one some more. The teacher came to me and asked me if my family was religious. I quickly said that I wasn't Jewish, but Christian. She was surprised, but persisted, "Okay, but are you religious Christians? Because in modern times only religious families have such big families."
The word in Hebrew is dati, and is fraught with meaning. Dati applies in varying forms to the Ultra-Orthodox in Mea Shearim, to the American religious Jews, and to any Jew who takes his religion seriously. It is also a bad word to all the secular Jews who have been treated badly by dati Jews. "Religious" doesn't even really fit me in English! But how do I explain all this to my Hebrew teacher when I can't even remember how to say my numbers? "Well,..." I say slowly, "I guess so." and leave it at that. Again, sigh. Someday, in my dreams at least, I will be able to say that in Hebrew...

And by the way, I was beaten for the title of Biggest Family by one-the priest from Poland is one of nine children.