It's funny how time and distance change you, the roads you take don't always lead you home.
Tonight is the penultimate night of Passover in India. Since we were all traveling for Holi last week, we decided to plan our seder for the end of the traditional celebration. We gather tonight around the table to share the story of passover over a delicious meal. I made charoset by myself for the first time with the ghetto ingredients I could scrounge up at the local supermarket. I obviously had no trouble finding the cinnamon as spice is a necessity in every aisle here. Fresh produce on the other hand is not. I had forgotten that American watermelon is manufactured without seeds and that picking large black chunks out of your melon was something that plagued previous generations**. My hunt for perfect apples was quite similar. Bruised and battered they stood perfectly stacked in the market waiting for the unlikely person to overlook their wreckage and buy one. That lone person was me. Even the checkout girl looked at them unconvinced.
**NOTE: shout out to my favorite episode of Rugrats when Chuckie eats a watermelon seed and Angelica convinces him that a tree is going to grow in his stomach. On the topic of Rugrats, this seder was perfect minus the lack of the Rugrats Passover episode, which artfully tells the tragic tail as Tommy Pickles proclaims “Let My Babies GO!” So powerful.
Back to our seder. We dined on charoset and Matza (fedexed from the US of A), mango daal, lemon rice, and other indian delicacies. We sang Dayenu and tried to get our program directors niece, the youngest at the table, to recite the four questions. She is only one, so it didnt work out too well. Overall it was an amazing get together with friends program wide. Something I know I will tell my own kids, WOOHOOO, about when I perfect my charoset recipe for generations to come. Oh, I forgot to mention that as Indian tradition goes–we ate with our hands! There is nothing like rice and matza coming together so perfectly in a hand crafted bite.