What'd you do for New Years?

New Years eve party plans always seem to matter much more in the 2 weeks preceding December 31st. "What are you doing for New Years?" Everyone seems to ask this question, and it's seemingly almost as important to have an answer to the question "so, you just graduated from college, now what?" What's interesting is that by January 4th you can't remember what you did, although there's a good chance a lot of money was spent, or there was some serious transportation inconveniences. I know I've seen some chilled people waiting around angrily for a taxi, and it's hard to look back at a night and say "that was fun" when at some point in the night there was extensive frustration in waiting for a taxi. So this year for New Years Eve I made no plans, and on December 31st a few friends said they were going up to a cabin in Guernville, so I decided to go with them, and it ended up being awesome. While I was in this cabin in the middle of the woods with about 15 people I was thinking about how nice and valuable it is to have a space to entertain others. This upcoming month I'm excited not just about the activities and events we'll be hosting, but I'm excited to enjoy the space that is our beautiful home in San Francisco.

MH Chicago, Elana, 01/01/08

Oh, Moishe House.

There sits a brick house on Greenview,
Where all the young Chicago Jews happen to come to,
On Shabbas we light candles and break bread,
By the time everyone leaves, we all feel well fed.

This past month we went ice skating in the park,
And one time we just sat and talked politics in the dark,
We spent an evening chillin' with some arts n' crafts,
And even put plastic on the windows to keep out the drafts...

On Hannukah we ate latkes and dreydeled it up,
Everyone left with some golden gelt in their cup,
We created cards to raise money for kids with cancer,
And even had a big party to end the year with some laughter...

Our little Moishe House is doing swell in the Windy City,
2 KCarens, 2 EIlanas, and 1 Joe - but still no little kitty,
Hope ya'll had a fun and crazy happy new year,
Can't wait to meet ya'll so soon, I'm being sincere!

-Elana

Maia 1/1/08 San Francisco

Another year. Last year I blogged for Moishe House with a poem by Richard Brautigan to ring in the new year. Today I'm sorta out of poems though on the other side of the wall is a room full of poetry books (I'm at work writing this) and through the next door is the office of one of the most important contemporary American poets, Lawrence Ferlinghetti. In any case, I find myself poem-less in this moment and instead I'll tell a joke that a 5-year-old friend of mine told me recently.

What did the ocean say to the shore?

Nothing. It just waved.


Happy new year. May we all be blessed with love and laughter and work and peace.

Joel, MHSeattle, 1/1/08

I grew up here, so you'd think it wouldn't surprise me, every single year, how December in Seattle is so mercilessly dark (not to mention soggy). Seventeen daily hours of darkness intensifies the joy of the Chanukah lights, for sure, but then it also emphasizes how quickly those little bastards burn.

It was a kickass Chanukah: tons of guests, a different fried food each night (set to culminate with three whole deep-fried chickens), Golem and Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players playing the Crocodile for The Eight, and we even extended the party a couple of days with our first Coffeehouse event, which brought a writer/actor, three singer/songwriters, a couple jazzmen, a juggler, and a bunch of other cool kids into our living room. But high highs set you up for low lows when the sun isn't around to catch you.

A week after Chanukah it sank in that my housemates, house, and I were all kind of wrecked. Keeping up with hoards of guests is tough when your best dishwasher is in India, when your best cook has a repetitive-stress injury from so much cooking, and when everyone has the blues. The Crocodile -- one of my favorite Seattle clubs since, gosh, the '90s, and where it had been so sweet seeing the mob of Jews in their urban-hipster-wear all hugging each other hello just a week earlier -- suddenly closed forever. It wasn't even the darkest day yet, and there I was, tired, a little sad, suffering from party withdrawal, and feeling unmistakably like I had just eaten an awful lot of fried food.

Right around Solstice I think I hit bottom. Our director at work wanted to know why my output had lightened up in recent weeks despite major deadlines with major clients. Knowing that it was because I'd been putting so much energy into the house, and knowing at the same time that going back to that house at the end of the day was not going to make me feel better, put me in a dark mood on my way home. Maybe, I thought, it's time to move into a yurt in the woods, or at least a nice, tame studio apartment.

When I did get home that night, however, my housemates showed me the trophy and a very sweet letter we had received as an award for being "Moishe House of the Month" for November. It could not have been better timed.

Now Tamar has returned from India, my best friend is moving back to Seattle from Lahore, Pakistan, we're planning my birthday party, and the days are just beginning to lengthen. And we're freaking Moishe House of the Month, baby!

Happy New Year

tamar, Seattle Moishe House, 01/01/2008

Learning about India:

This month I went to India. It was both a good and bad experience, but one thing I enjoyed was learning about the way of life. I didn't only do this by going there, observing, and interacting with the people and places, but also by reading newspapers and books and watching TV. For instance: Me and my father visited the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Everywhere we would drive there would be posters (political advertisements) for the red and black party (Since we don't read or understand Tamil, that's what we called them). Most of these posters would feature two people prominently: a bald guy with sun glasses, and a guy with a small afro and a mustache. When We asked oi tour guide about these posters he said the bald guy was the head minister of the state and the guy with the mustache was his son, that was set to replace him. "why does he always wear sunglasses?" I asked. "Because one eye is smaller than the other one". Later at the hotel restaurant the manager came over to our table. He told us that all the police men where hanging out in the lobby because the chief minister's son might be visiting the hotel. "Will we see him?" I excitedly asked. Probably not, he said, "politicians always change their minds at the last minute." By the time we read two articles in The Hindu about him, discussing a dam with the Kerala chief minister and meeting with Sonya Gandhi, we felt like we already knew him (and his son).

Guest Appearence blog

Boom! This is Steve Rubin signing on for the Moishe House Tel Aviv. Right now, we are in the process of tidying the house after a long week where so many soldiers - new faces and old - stopped by to say hello and grace the house with their presence. Being a lone soldier, it is always good to know that there is a bed or couch for me and my crew in town. Those sentiments are widely felt amongst all the chayalim bodedim who have been lucky enough to pass through in their journey as a citizen soldier. The Moishe House Tel Aviv usually has its regulars that come by but this week - we were all introduced to some few soldiers that will hopefully stop by more often. Adam from Scotland was the featured soldier of the week. The best part about his visit was that we learned how to speak Scottish and acclimate ourselves to his thick Scottish accent. When he first entered, we couldn’t understand a word he was saying; but after a few beers and some pool, we were speaking the language of the Scottish man and fully fluent in our comprehension of the language. Always a regular, like myself, Putters spent all of his 9-days vacation at the house, picking up where he left off with his witty humor and loveable teddy-bear like qualities. He even put on his finest red suit that made him the appearance of Super Mario Putters. And what would a Moishe House Tel Aviv week be without a couple smashing lone soldierettes hanging out and checking out their sleeping options. To that, we give a shout out to Jomie, Chen, Elior and Ofri. As I am about to sign off on this blog - I can’t help but think about my next visit to the spot. No matter how tough it gets in the field - how much the eyelids swell due to a lack of sleep; I know that the Moishe House is awaiting my arrival with open arms, open beds and open fridge. Yalla!

RRR, the House - London, December

Last NYE my friend called to tell me that maybe the death threats from drunk people meant that his party wasn't such a great option. So I went out with my then housemate to his friend's house party. From the roof we could just about see the fireworks from Westminster, and all was very nice and normal.

People in London share houses all the time. People who barely know each other live door to door with each other under the same roof. House prices mean that professionals who would have bought their own place in their 20s and 30s are still house sharing in their 40s and 50s. The structure is changing whether we welcome it or not. So why not use it to our advantage?


I'd like to find out more about Ivan Illich's work in examining where social conventions come from and questioning whether they are still useful or productive. What's to stop this happening more often in social structure?
It seems as though one can get used to using buildings in a particular way and then not question their potential.

According to what people say when they show up here, the House really seems to be filling a gap not previously filled, yet it doesn't seem to be taking much between five of us and our growing community to make it so much more for people than a regular shared house. I wonder how much of that comes from the unlimited expectations of the space.
I am still 'just' sharing a house, as I was last year, but this year I feel the potential of that expanding all the time.

Thanks to Elliott Tucker for the artwork that covers our hallway as part of our new Jewish Art Exhibition.
Here's one he did earlier.