I survived מאה שערים...

..this time I don't mean the fast itself, but the thing that on the eve of the fast of the seventeenth of Tammuz, I attended a farewell party for rabbi Mamrutt, the rabbi who used to give shiurim every thursday to a group of young people in Los Chorros. The problem was actually where the party was; it was going to be held at Bet Shemuel, a sephardi haredi synagogue in La Florida with a branch in the eastern part of Caracas, in Los Dos Caminos. These guys have the closest resemblance to Mea Shearim one can find in Caracas and due to this, I was kinda scared to attend, despite feeling affection for the rab. Anyway, I told Dani (my mentor and one of my best friends) about it and aksed him for counseking on what to do; so, he told me to go, since I was invited by the rab himself, but told me to follow their customs or at least not offend them by following these rules:

• Do not wear eye-catching colors like red, orange or light green
• Do not wear scratched/tore pants or pants with holes, like the "modern" jeans
• Do not wear too tight t-shirts
• Do not wear a crocheted kippa under any reason; do wear a dark-colour velvet or satin one
• Do not wear sandals or anything that shows your feet
• Do not wear too much cologne
  
• Sit down quietly and listen to every speech, and don't chat during the speeches, and
• DO NOT kiss any girl under any circumstance!

Anyway, I went down to the supermarket and bought two cans of Pringles, which are kosher and Josef told me to take to the party and then took a cab, dressed sharply neat, in a combination that might have been approved by them: dark jeans (something between dark green and black), a white long-sleeved shirt (a designer one; sorry, I'm a Delta Nu) under a black long sleeved sweater, brown Merrell shoes, a little mousse on my hair and a black velvet kippa. And most importantly, my three-week beard which Dani thinks makes me look like a hidden taliban in an israeli suit, hehehe.

The outfit proved to be so bloody good that Mr. Garzón, the president of Bet Shemuel (sephardi synagogues have a president, who leads the administrative part, and the rabbi, who is the spiritual guide) got close to me as soon as all the speeches ended and asked me what my name was, and if I attended a synagogue. Natürlich, I told him "my name is Carlos Manuel, Carlos Manuel Colina, and I go to Bet El". He just smiled widely and said "well, welcome to Bet Shemuel, you are welcomed any time you want to attend shiurim, pray or just visit us". I was kinda scared because nobody except my rabbi in there knew I am converting, so that would cause a BIG problem. Perhaps my looks helped me -thanks Mom and Dad for making me look the way I do, so perfectly northern moroccan that a Melillero would always tell me that I look like so-and-so- and the fact that I sat down, paid attention to all of the speeches, the brief shiur and prayed the Kaddish the way it should be done; in fact, it was the most perfect Kaddish I have ever prayed without a prayer book, hehe :-D

Every single aspect of my conversion should have the slogan used by McDonald's - I'm lovin' it!