"Where Ever You Go There's Always Someone Jewish, You're Never Alone When You Say You're a Jew"

I recall now a concern of the CJHS community that was expressed to me when I announced I would be attending the University of St. Andrews. A common question was: "What about Jewish life?" Well, let me me tell you one story.



Before even coming to St. Andrews, I was in dialogue with a local in hopes of spending Yom Kippur in Edinburgh. My correspondent was very helpful and arranged for me to spend the holiday. Unfortunately, due to some mistakes in my visa application, I was unable to make it. Judaism was put on hold.



Then things went a bit smoother and I finally arrived in St. Andrews. I spent the first week wandering around trying to find a group and place where I could belong. One day there was a student fair. At this fair different societies (clubs) and sports teams were present. One of these societies was JSoc - the Jewish Society. I joined immediately and paid my dues.



One Friday JSoc held a Shabbat dinner in a small room of the chaplaincy. The room did not have your typical Shabbat atmosphere. Thirty people were in an odd array of clothing, a T.v. hung on the wall and hardly anyone said the familiar words: "Good Shabbas." Some time went by, more people came and the room filled. A set of candles and a challah were set in place on a small table at the back of the room.



Then a whisper was heard, a man in the front of the room with a small kippah began to speak in a soft voice: "Welcome everyone, we are now going to begin. If you can please pick up your prayer books, then we will start." He started to sing:

Lekhah, Dodi, Lekhah Dodi Liqrat kallah, p'nei Shabbat neqabelah, lekhah dodi liqrat kallah, p'nei Shabbat neqabelah.

At first, his voice alone filled the room. Gradually, we all joined in. If a person knew the song then they sung, if not, they read, hummed or listened. Everyone was tuned in.

The songs ended and we were left to chat again amongst ourselves. Within seconds, six degrees of Jewish separation kicked in. The man to my left was a Jew from Chicago who grew up just 15 minutes away from my home. A woman further along attended the same camp as some of my friends. A united community.

We ate our food, though there wasn't much (Jewish fail). A raffle was also done with tickets throughout the meal. The winner would receive free tasting at a Jewish bake sale or a month supply of homemade challah. The dinner then drew to a close slowly. The chatter died down and people left as they pleased. A total of two and a half hours had past. I almost had forgotten where I was.

Improved by Rachel, who chose to leave her surname out due to conceitedness and the assumption (an ass out of just her, not me) that everyone knows who she is (she even had the guts to edit this line).