Chasidic Minyin at Miami Beach part I: Adventures of Mikakel Kaleekaku

by Mikakel Kaleekaku

I thought I knew about Yiddishkeit. Then I ended up at a Chassidic Minyin in Miami Beach. I need to learn Yiddish. I had no idea what was going on. Here is my experience of being with my Chassidic friends at Miami Beach for the weekend, and some advice, just in case you end up at a Minyin and they count you as the eleventh. 

They Definitely Questioned My Being Jewish
They were questioning my Jewishness on Friday morning, and they were quite amazed I could read Hebrew. I looked like a Goy, sitting there with my Kippah, Tallis and Tefillin. I think the Minyin counted me as the eleventh guy. And rightfully. I don't know Yiddish.
They counted "Hosheea Et Amecha," finished the ten count of "Ad Olam," and then I heard "Nafsheynu." I believe I was Nafsheynu. First time I ever heard that.

​Learn Yiddish
I couldn't understand a word. I know Shacharit. I've been Davening my whole life. By the way, if you want to not sound like an idiot, it's Shacharis. The fact that I asked them if they were doing "Shacharit," rightfully excluded me from the Minyin.
They were Davening in Yiddish. There is no other way to explain it. There is no other way I can rationalize me not understanding the word "Barchu."

Davening is Different But the Same
That Baruch She'Amar caught me off guard. I was already at Ashrei.
It turns out they were doing a different form of Ashkenazi Davening, called Sefardi. Sefard Ashkenazi Davening. That's confusing. Sefardic Davening, but Ashkenazik. The one thing that I can tell you is they didn't sound like the guys at the Sefardic Minyin I Daven with in Israel. It sounded more like Sefardic Jews praying in Yiddish. And I've never met the Sefardic Jewish community whose ancestors hail from Medzhybizh.
​
It Takes Longer in Yiddish
Davening took longer. I was not ready for this thing they call Kavanah. I was ready to go home fifteen minutes ago. They were somehow in the middle of Shema still. The Shema prayer takes longer in Yiddish. I was not aware of that.
Show up late. That's the key. If you show up a half hour late, you'll be out on time.

Don't Judge a Jew by his Streimel
I was enamored by the Streimels. The whole Shabbis Davening, I was comparing Streimels. Trying to figure out which one costs more. With my intent focus on the Streimels some of the Chassidim thought I had Kavanah.
There are different kinds of Streimels. Some are taller, some are shorter, some are wider, some are thinner. But they are all Jews. That's a nursery rhyme I translated from Yiddish.
It took me a while to not judge the person based on their Streimel. And I hope that after a while of them realizing that I read Hebrew like an American Apikores, they would see me as a Jew. And I realized, I was wearing an inner Streimel, also known as my Kippah. And I was proud of my Mitnaged roots. By being a Litvak, I saved eight thousand dollars.

A Streimel with White Hair
One guy's Streimel had some white hairs in it. That was a shocker. I thought all Streimels had brown hair. Nope. After many days of long Davening and paying off the mortgage, Streimels can change color. Another guy's Streimel had thinning hair. 
My Streimel was bald. That's what I told them when they were trying to figure out if they could start Mincha on Shabbis afternoon. I told them my Streimel lost all its hair. They understood. They saw my Kippah and figured that I must a not easy home life, and my Streimel lost all its hair. And they counted me as the tenth.
And some wear them differently. There are those who wear them high. Those who wear them low. Those who wear them off to the side. And some who wear them in the snow. But they are all Jews. Another nursery rhyme I translated from Yiddish.

Different Songs
They are not singing the Shwekey tunes you're used to for Kedusha. They didn't make a point of trying to fit words into "Im Eshkachech" that don't work. Even so, they sing Jewish songs. I know they were Jewish songs, because they all sounded the same. As such, I became a Chassid quite quickly. And I sang that tune. Whatever that tune was.
I didn't know the tune for Shalishudis. But ​I yawned a lot of Nays. I figured that if I yawned and let out some NayNayNays I would fit right in. I got really into the singing. And then one guy turned to me and said, "That's not Yiddish. That's a Hebrew NayNayNay." 

That was a lot of Yiddish for one day. Truth is, I'm now questioning if I'm a good Jew, not knowing Yiddish. I have to learn Yiddish before I go back to Miami Beach. Prove myself. Prove my Frumnessiasity. I at least have to end my Jewish words with more s's. 
We’ll continue next time with more Yiddish. While we try to figure out what Chassidic sect settles on a beach where there are no bungalows. 
One thing I do know. The Streimels do an excellent job of keeping the sun out.