Packing for Dummies

I feel like all I've done the last two days is pack and unpack, pack and unpack. I suppose I should get used to it, since that's what I'll be doing for the next two months! Here is all the wisdom I have about packing:

Step 1) Start by packing everything you think you want to bring. Stuff it all into your backpack, then put on your backpack and walk around for a few minutes.
Step 2) Have a back spasm. Nearly fall over backwards. Put the bag down, throw up your hands, and walk away.
Step 3) Take everything out of the bag. Carefully consider each item and only put back the ones that are absolutely essential to life.
Step 4) Put on the backpack. Notice how light it feels. Walk around the neighborhood wearing it, thinking, "Yeah, I could do this!" and get weird looks from people.
Step 5) Compartmentalize! Inside the big bag there should be NOT a bunch of clothes and books and wires all mixed up in each other, but rather a bunch of littler bags. One sack for electronics. One sack for writing utensils. One sack for socks. One sack for underwear. One sack for books, etc.
Step 6) Step back and admire your compartmentalized bag.

I feel like the compartmentalizing represents giving in to the reality that I will be constantly packing and unpacking. By having lots of little bags, I can find what I need and put everything back with a minimum of disruption. That's the idea, anyway.


Last night, I went to a seder. (Happy Passover, everyone.) It was at UCLA Hillel. It was your typical, reform, institutional seder. Lots of 10-person, round tables. Too-salty food. Suspiciously moist brownies. Matzo balls the size and consistency of golf balls.

The seder was led by a rabbinic intern from HUC, rather than by students, which does not speak well of UCLA Hillel, IMO.

I might offend some of my readers by saying this, but in some ways the seder typified reform practice at its worst. The rabbinic intern reminded us several times that asking questions was integral to the seder and to Judaism, and that everyone was encouraged to ask questions and discuss. After each of these reminders, we were instructed to turn the page and hurry on to the next phase of the seder, so that it would not take too long. So, there was really no time for questioning. The readings in the seder packet did raise questions at times, but generally these readings immediately answered their own questions with pat, politically correct sentimentalism. The singing, such as there was, was perfunctory, not joyful. E.g. "Now it's time to sing Dayeinu, but we're only going to do three verses so we don't get bored." By the end, the leader resorted to cheap tactics to get people to sing along: "The mitzvah of singing chad gadya is not complete unless you make animal noises." When the photographer would wander by, we'd try to look interested. Well, it was an institutional seder, so I should not have expected too much.

And, don't get me wrong, I'm not writing off the UCLA Hillel community just because they couldn't muster some students to lead the seder. For all I know, there may be a very dedicated circle of student leaders there who were all home with their families for seder.