Passover

For most people, it seems, Easter is a day rich with family gatherings, sunshine, egg hunts, impeccably green lawns, pastel colors, magical bunnys, and bonnetts on women who, thank goodness, have the sense to wear them only once a year.   This year on Easter I happened to be near a park in the Pacific Palasades area of California and observed a number of happy, prosperous, white people celebrating the holiday with baskets of fruit and chocolate and wholesome activity. The sunshine was endless and the grass was fairway green. Perfect conditions for Easter. I observed this pleasant scene, however, as somewhat of an outsider. Easter was never a very big deal for me. Growing up we did make a day of it, I suppose. Grandma Six-Bears would bring a few candy eggs for Brother Six-Bears and I, and there was sure to be at least one meal that would require a little extra effort from Mother Six-Bears. Despite this, I really have no vivid memories of Easter. What I remember far more clearly is Passover. Before the reader inquires as to why anyone named Six-Bears would be celebrating Passover, the reader is advised to remember that in the world of Billy Six-Bears nothing is as it seems. Every year, until I was about 16, we'd drive to the home of my Grandfather's cousin for the Passover Feast. I suspect that, as a young child, I liked passover a great deal. As my brother and I were the only kids, we would get to search for dollar bills hidden throughout the house. To this day I don't know whether this is a traditional Passover custom, or simply our replacement for the common Easter egg hunt.
The food at Passover is like no other. The flavors are mild but rich. The dishes are simple yet memorable to this day. I don't remember the exact order that we ate things but the meal went something like this: Appropriate prayers would be read in Hebrew and in English. Matzo(a flat bread, crackers really, served with a shredded apple mixure for spread)- Hard boiled eggs(served with saltwater for dipping)- Gefilte Fish(pronounced "fafilta"-patties made with several kinds of fish, garnished with carrorts, one of the dishes I'll never forget)- Matzo ball soup(a classic, indescribable, you have to try it. Achieving the perfect texture and firmness of the balls is an art)- Baked chicken. Throughout the meal wine was drunk by the adults, with grape juice for the kids. For the finish, angel food cake, sponge cake, and cookies. Nearly all the traditional food eaten at Passover is symbolic, though a forgetfull Billy can't list them anymore.
     When I reached adolescence I grew resistant of Passover. Everyone I knew celebrated Christian holidays and I had grown tired of being the only Indian who celebrated Jewish holidays.
As I aged into my teens I became more and more opposed to attending Passover, though I did anyway. Looking back I understand this attitude, yet can't help but feel it unfortunate. I didn't care, at the time, that the experience is one my own children will almost certainly not have. What a rare occasion it is to share in a Passover performed by Jews born and raised in Europe, those who know the authentic recipes and traditions(not to mention Hebrew). Mine was the last generation of the Six-Bears clan to have contact with the Six-Bears from Europe. I appreciate it now. I only wish I had then, a little more.


                                                                              -Billy Six-Bears
                                                                               4/17/01

Note: A mature Billy now embraces his background and is pleased to announce the discovery that he is part Scottish. An entry on bland food and plaid is in the works.