(Recap of last post: My friend Liz and I went to synagogue this past Friday and this is what happened after, an insane story of miraculously strange fate.)
So, as we left 'La Sinagoga,' Liz and I kind of made some smalltalk with this very American Spaniard who moved here 11 years ago from Boston. You could tell he was not native because his accent was clear and apparent and he had blondish hair. No one here has blond hair.
The blond guy had introduced this older man to the brotherhood as 'He is a judge."
Ooookay. So, The Judge is looking at a map to get back to his hotel and I happen to know that hotel so I offer to walk him back in the general direction since it's actually kind of on my way home and Nervion, mi barrio, is ridiculously far from the Aladdin streets we're tangled in.
The Judge is appreciative. He starts asking Liz and I why we're in Spain, why we chose Sevilla, what it's like here, etc., etc. As we get more and more lost, we're learning more and more about each other. Mind you, I still have no clue what this guy's name is.
Turns out, he's from my hometown, moved to Israel in 1970 in between jobs, and never left. He teaches at Cornell, his alma mater, and recently retired compulsorily from his position as the CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE LABOR COURTS OF THE STATE OF ISRAEL.
Because I'm a huge nerd, I think this is all incredibly interesting and fortuitous because we just have an absurd amount in common. Except the international law thing. But, it's cool.
So after walking a solid 25 minutes, we randomly end up by the Cathedral. I have no clue how we got there. I was so lost. It could've been so bad. But it was great! By the time we reached the Cathedral, I figured out that The Judge was from Scarsdale. Then I figured out he taught at Cornell.
Then he invited me to have ice cream with him in his hotel lobby.
I almost cried. What had started as a sort of unsettling and underfulfilled Shabbat became potentially AWESOME. I was going to eat ice cream with an internationally famous judge from my hometown who I happened to meet in Sevilla?! What?! Yea. That's my cool weird life.
Then he offered me random Kosher food he had left over from his weeklond European judges conference. Osem instant soup in meat flavors - win!
As we rounded the corner to his hotel, 4 miles about total, he realized we'd never even introduced ourselves. He introduced himself as Steve. NBD. Some people might call him His Honor Chief Justice Steven Adler, or Professor Adler at Cornell or Hebrew U. But he's just my friend Steve. And we're going to eat ice cream and cookies together. Now that's a Shabbos dinner.
His honor returns over 5 million results on Google. But whatever you can read on Haaretz or the Jerusalem Post, it won't reflect the man I met. 'Steve' was thoughtful, kind, interesting, and interested. He was world-traveled, diplomatic, nostalgic, and Jewish. He was a pretty ideal life role model. He also has a bunch of children and grandchildren and a house in the Old City that I do hope to visit him and his wife in as soon as possible.
He was like a Jewish grandfather for a couple hours. I would like this rent-a-Grandpa service every week. It doesn't even have to be an critically important Israeli judge - I'll give that criterion up, if it makes this easier.
As I left, bag of miscellaneous Kosher-marked foods in hand, I was more religious than I have ever ever felt. I felt SO lucky to have gone to synagogue, to have learned knew things, to have made a new friend, and to be Jewish.
In Hebrew School, one of our favorite ridiculous songs was, "Wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish. You're never alone when you say you're a Jew. So when you're not home and you're somewhere kinda newish, the odds are, don't look far, 'cause they're Jewish too."
This has never ever been truer. And, the ice cream was probably better than any of that kosher meat I've been craving. I left perhaps the happiest I've been here so far.
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