I often feel I’m not understood; does that sound familiar? But wait; seriously, there is a feeling of uniqueness among us. We’re a certain kind, and therefore one cannot hold it against us for not complying with any particular culture. Who is ‘my kind’ one may ask? Who is ‘us’? Well, let’s start from the united nation type background. My grandparents were Bukharian. Although both my parents were born there, they moved to Israel as children and consider themselves Israelis and I was born in the States, to be more precise, Boro Park. Like many of my kind, we moved to Queens and lived as a close-knit very small community. Most of us had a strong influential American Ashkenaz schooling through Yeshiva. I remember some of the kids in the class would ask us “what’s your background”, and we would answer “Bukharian.” They would look at us strangely and ask, “Where’s that?” They had no clue. If we would have answered ‘its part of Texas’, they would have believed us and truth be told, if it were convincing enough, we too would believe it as well.
We’re not considered Ashkenaz American; they’ll be the first to testify to that. We’re not rough and tough enough to be Israeli. My mother-in-law always asks me “why didn’t you marry your own kind?” (My wife is born and bred in Bukharah). So if we are not any of the above….SO WHAT ARE WE???…ARE WE FROM MARS??!!
I’ve tried to bond with different cultures but I never really felt comfortable with any of them. It wasn’t home, and when I asked my fellow ‘men without countrieans’ (name created by fellow member Rafi Sharbat); they had the similar feeling.
Although there are advantages, Ofir Haimoff (one of the clubmembers) said we could appreciate every culture to the fullest whether it’s chulent or osevoh, (different Shabbat tables) understanding jokes and sarcasms or different music. We know what good things a particular culture has to offer and appreciate them like they do; ‘Men with-out countriean’ could fluctuate between cultures as easy as changing hats. One can go to different synagogues being aware how the service is ran and even lead it (hazan) and not feel awkward; the convenience of having a choice of more synagogues and the ability to tolerate certaincuisines in ‘high pressured-no time New York’ is a big plus. People, who are not like us, go to a Temple that’s not of their kind and feel like lost puppies. Another club member says I feel I’m not committed to anything; I’m a free bird. There is no pressure of ‘having to follow the Jones’. However – and trust it’s a big however – we’ll never feel at home anywhere.
Last year I gave a lecture on this topic and it was such a hit. I received so many responses. Someone stopped me in the street and said ‘I can really relate, we’re unique.’ The ironic thing is the person who approached me was Bukharian who came here from the Soviet Union when he was fifteen. If you think about it, there are 30,000 people with a similar background. If we had four Bukharians in our eighth grade class we felt important. He has an entire city just like him, how can he relate?! How absurd is that!!
Presumably, the reason many people feel a sense of not belonging, a feeling of seclusion, unable to express ourselves resulting in stifling our emotions and feeling too uncomfortable to disclose our inner thoughts, is because there is no common denominator. What do you mean, one may ask? I believe I found the answer.
I have a friend (Boaz Davidoff, fellow member) who made Aliya (moved to Israel) about ten years ago. The reason is because it is our Jewish homeland. He said ‘it was very difficult to make the adjustment in the beginning and I was very homesick. I still can’t swallow some of the characters and how the country is ran. However, surprisingly, I could get into an argument in the street with a stranger (which as an American I always made fun of) about politics, security, economics and religious issues very easily because I care. It’s my country. Yes, that’s correct, it’s my country; it’s the Jewish homeland; the land of my Fathers. I was never able to say that about Queens, New York, although, I grew up there. But the feeling I have for Israel is deeply rooted. I feel this is my home and all of us living here have a commitment to make this country flourish and work correctly. This is the common denominator we have.’
We read in birkat hamazon ‘thank you for giving us the good land’ our land, a land we can call home, which we can go especially for our fellow ‘men without countrieans.