1. new snow on Piltriquitrón ridgeline
2. kid [mid 20s, angry looking face--made me think 'did i leave the door locked'] walking up our street
3. a black horse (mare) with lead tied to fence along San Martin
4. Ford Falcon crashed into middle of plaza with front wheels hung up on brick curb
5. no other cars downtown
6. supermarket security guards checking bags / receipts of a couple who had just bought a Playstation, the man in his mid 50s, white, the woman in her early 30s, dark-skinned, with freckles, possibly pregnant, and pushing infant in top of shopping cart
6. three kids stalled out in Ford Falcon where the pavement ends and dirt begins on calle San Martin, the driver’s head against the headrest, eyes closed, mouth open, a liter bottle of beer between his legs
7. the black mare with lead now completely entangled in fencewires [when I approach to try and untangle, her eyes get huge and she starts jerking her head up, ripping part of the fence out of the ground]
8. 4 guys on side of San Martin beside a mid 80s Audi with no license plate, no rear windows, but ‘mirrored’ front windows and windshield, the 4 dudes machete-ing a slash pile of willow for firewood
9. rainbow (snowbow?) in notch at Cerro Lindo along Andean cordillera
An 1878 painting by Maurycy Gottlieb depicting Ashkenazi Jews praying in the synagogue on Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement
Notes on Yom Kippur:
1. All over the world my people are alternating sitting / standing in synagogues. In dense cities, look for the garment and fabric sellers’ neighborhoods. In the suburbs, look for the churches with no cross, and lots of nice cars in the parking lot. Listen for an organ playing long and droning minor chords.
2. I remember growing up that Yom Kippur services were so crowded you had to buy tickets and it was like $50 a person or something. Pay to Pray. That part seemed unreal. They had television monitors broadcasting the service live out in the lobby. Among American Jews this is almost a cliche. The “Superbowl” of worship.
3. I just got back from the park with Layla. We listened to community radio in the car. They played Yom Kippur music and Layla and I sang harmony.
4. There’s a great tradition of singing something even when you don’t know what it means.
5. At the park there was a lady who saw Layla and commented on her curls. The lady talked to her–asked her what her name was–in this really loud and clear and enunciated way as if there were an audience of people all around us listening.
6. Then she said: “We prayed that this pavilion would be open today–you know it’s first come first serve–our church group has an event today–and see, God provided a little air-conditioning–feel that breeze. All we need is to wipe down the tables, and . . .look, here comes my husband with the leaf-blower.”
7. I asked my Dad if they were going to services later but he said he didn’t think so. “We’re definitely going to the memorial services tomorrow though.”
8. I wanted him to ask me “Do you want to go?” after that.
9. You can miss services and still be Jewish here, I think. The could do just about anything today and still be Jewish–dodge tear gas at the G20 summit, be out at sea somewhere on a global surf mission, sit in front of a computer remixing beats (why not Yah-ah-say Shalom?), almost anything. . . except going to church.
10. When Layla and I sang in the car–the heat and the Spanish Moss on the other side of the glass–I thought about mosques and calls to prayer–how they blazed this music / voices out over the towns. Seems like it could be a good thing with the right music.
11. When I was 10 I watched my Grandfather put on his suit to go to Yom Kippur. He was sick with Diabetes. Later he’d answer your questions with only one or two word. This was the last sentence I ever remember him saying: “I’ve never missed a Yom Kippur service in all my life.”
Published new notes from the editor. One of those kinds of stories that you just sit down and type straight out. Always the best kind for me, but have to go back and see how it reads tomorrow.