Bonjour from Paris!! I have spent the last three days biking in France — the first of a seven-week vagabonderie in Europe. (The transition from Adamah to traveling was very quick: a week ago I was eating just-picked cucumbers and harvesting round 57 of our beloved & prolific green beans. I expect that this trip will give me space to think about everything that happened this summer, & fully intend one or two posts on the subject. But for now, though I’m still in my Carharts, I’m in Paris on a rented bicycle and it’s a few hours before Rosh Hashanah.)

One thing I will say about the summer, as it relates to me now in France, is that I’ve never FELT more Jewish my entire life than I did at Adamah. I’ve always been more or less connected and involved with Jewish people and events, but this summer for the first time I developped a Jewish practice that I really connected to, involving food brachot, morning prayer & Shabbat. It was easy this summer, living as I was with all Jews (& all Jews who mostly wanted to practice as I did). But now I’m here, & the holiday is starting soon, & I’m trying to decide how I can still “feel Jewish” while travelling with my non-Jewish friends & staying at a hostel in Pigalle!

I’m a little bit shy, thinking about going to a strange shul. Even in North America, I feel awkward. But that’s ok — I strongly connect to Jewish holidays through food (surprise!) AND I find that food is an easy “in” for my non-Jewish friends. (Incidentally, Katerli *loves* brachot — we made kiddush & motzi over our baguette & fromage & vin in the square in Epernay, & I was pleased at how, even in France!, the same set of words will set the meal apart from the rest of the day & create space for noticing, appreciating and connecting, even when the context is entirely unfamiliar…)

So Rosh Hashanah à Paris: let’s eat! I think apples & honey, & perhaps a round challah can be found???

I wish I had thought of the apples yesterday, because all along our route there were apple trees — HUGE, and covered in fruit, and we picked from the ones that hung over the road and congratulated ourselves for having decided to travel in September. But there’s also something karmic about only taking zhat you need when it is so freely given, trusting the abundance rather than hoarding, & so the apples were eaten in situ only. So fine. I bought some apples & honey at an épicerie.

Next! I googled ” kosher bakery paris” and of course someone had made a website of all the kosher bakeries in France. The ones in this city all seemed to be in the XIXe arrondissement — which turned out to be the one next to my hostel — so off I went.

And I admit — part of me just wanted to SEE some Jews getting ready for the holiday. The man in the suit with the kippah, holding the hand of a dressed-up little girl. The kosher butcher, already closed for the holiday. I found it comforting and familiar & grounding, even if my Rosh Hashanah wasn’t going to look much like theirs, to know & see it going on around me.

So anyways (all travel writing gets a bit long, doesn’t it?)… I’m biking in the XIXe arrondissement and I see Papa Yardou — the restaurant is closed but the take-away section next door is not. Inside they are packing up a big order, boxes and boxes of beets, potatoes, eggplant & more. There is one round challah left. There are chabbad candlelighting times and pamphlets on the counter, and a free magazine called “Chatan et Calla.” There were some kosher wines behind the register and I was glad to recognize the blue bottles of Bartenura, that sweet sparkly stuff that goes down like juice, well! they drink it here too. I spoke a little Hebrew with the owner. I was incredibly pleased by the whole situation.

Rosh Hashanah, 5768. I am meeting my friends for a picnic on the steps of the Sacré Coeur. I have a round challah, apples & honey, haricots verts, betraves (beets), carrottes (carrots), aubergine (eggplant) & meat balls in small take-away containers. We’ll probably also eat the brie we bought this morning in Coulommiers (local brie!) and the 2 euro delicious wine from Carcasonne, & likely a pain-au-chocolat (I’ve only had two today, after all, and this is FRANCE!). The bells from the cathedrals are no shofar but I’m looking forward to this feast as my way of marking the New Year. Shana Tova!!