Jewish Camp, OU Style

Well, here I am in Monsey, New York. Some red-carpet treatment! First, nobody was in the office. Fortunately I ran into the head rabbi's son, who showed me my room. No sheets, no air, and drab. I guess it's like visiting a college while everybody is gone. Summer school. First impression: not good. Apparently there are thirty people here on an outreach program. Me, I'm just here. I have a feeling I won't get to talk to anybody. Yep, it's a processing plant!

Saturday night, 7:30 p.m. Another day, more impressions. I still feel as if my existence here doesn't matter. I will allow that I met two wonderful families, the Katzes and the Weisses. But my first impressions, the anger, the sense of not belonging, have not gone away. I don't think I could last one more day than necessary. The problem is that I need to learn. But I tell ya, if it hadn't been for those two families, I would have packed it in! No distractions, no joke! I am too intense for this place, not in the learning sense, but these guys can't relate.

I learned once that G-d never tests somebody with a test they can't pass. I feel that after three years I have failed miserably. And this experience is one more nail in the coffin. One more day. Sunday. G-d, everything hinges on Sunday.

I know Shabbat. I know how to keep a kosher home. Really, what is my purpose here? Learning won't speed up the process of giving up non-kosher food. That is a matter of will. Tefillin, negiah, tzitzit and all the rest are matters of will and struggle, not more philosophy. Underlying all those mitzvot is the principle of faith that G-d wrote the Torah. Keeping kosher, negiah and the rest would be very easy here (as in Israel). I wouldn't be doing them out of choice, but because there would be no reason not to. If I can keep kosher, the idea of negiah (because the fences aren't 100% necessary) and tzitzit in Atlanta, then I will know it means something to me.

I am already religious. Not in the same way as the black hats. Not because I don't believe in their way of life, but because who I am inside is very different from who they are. This place, and perhaps any institutional learning environment, would strip me of me, which isn't necessary in order to become "religious." I guess I am not a yeshiva bochur, just as I was never a typical college student.

So what next? What do I do? Obviously a woman is going to want a man with formal learning, but I am not the type to learn all day, no matter the circumstances. I don't want to become a uniform, nor do I want somebody who wants a uniform. No, Sunday won't matter. I'd go insane here. I'd miss being able to do what I want. Now, I know that to "be religious" one can't always have one's cake and eat it too, but this is too extreme.

As I sat with my legs crossed and this book of lined paper in my lap, something very unusual occurred. The room began to rotate very slowly. I began to feel the earth's movement in my room. It was very slow but noticeable to my body. I began to wonder if anybody else felt their rooms move. Then I woke up.

This weekend was one of restless exhaustion. What does that mean? Exactly what it sounds like. I felt very restless, yet as soon as I went to my room, no matter the time of day, I would fall asleep. Then, even though I wasn't tired at night, I'd go back to sleep after being up only an hour or two. And all night long I would toss and turn, continuing the cycle of restless exhaustion.