This past weekend was the holiday of Purim, a Jewish festival celebrating the victory of the Jews over the evil vizier Haman in ancient Persia under the rule of King Ahashverosh (who is most likely King Xerxes I). It is a joyous holiday during which we read from the Book of Esther (known as the megillah), eat hamantaschen (triangle-shaped pastries filled with jam, poppy seed, chocolate, or other goodies), dress up in costumes, and imbibe.
It is one of the most rambunctiously joyous holidays in the Jewish calendar, yet I've never been a huge fan of it. Since I became old enough to decide on my own costumes instead of my parents putting me in whatever mask they wanted, I realized that I was very bad at making costumes and so I haven't dressed up much in the last few years. I don't like drinking, nor do I enjoy being around people who drink copiously, and big parties usually aren't my thing. So I've come to ignore Purim, more or less, and prefer to focus instead on the holidays I'm good at.
But this year, as with most things in my life since moving to New York, things were different.
This year I attended a giant party at a huge Reform synagogue which was co-sponsored by at least three congregations and a couple Brooklyn Jewish social organizations. There were multiple readings of the Book of Esther to accommodate the different communities represented, then we all coalesced afterward in the social hall across the street for a giant costume and dance party.
With a guest list of nearly 300, this is not typically the kind of event I would attend, especially without a group of friends to go with. But in the last few months I've been getting to know some new people and have even made a few friends with whom I've hung out outside of Jewish events. A few of them said they would be there, so I went hoping that I'd at least be able to mingle momentarily with a few people here or there. I didn't expect to stay too long or involve myself much in the party, but at least I would have the experience and be able to say I was there.
I decided to get together with a new friend beforehand and walk with her to the event. She is even newer to Brooklyn than me, so for once I was the one familiar with the area and the people. It felt pretty cool to know what I was doing, where I was going. When we got there I started looking for the people I knew from the shul I've been attending regularly the last couple months, and I wasn't disappointed.
After the megillah reading, we slowly made our way over to the social hall where the party was getting started. It didn't take long to get separated from my friend and lost in the crowd (and it didn't help that I was probably the shortest person in the room), but eventually I found another friend who I knew would be there. She introduced me to her friends and while talking to them someone else bumped into me.
"I'm sorry! Oh, hey! Great seeing you here! I'm going over there, but we'll talk later!"
I recognized the girl, but could not for the life of me think of her name right away. Where had I met her? How did I know her? It took me nearly 15 minutes to remember that I had only met her a week prior at another event for Jewish Brooklynites, and I think I remembered her name. But what's really cool to me, what I consider to be a major milestone in my social exploration of Brooklyn, is that not only am I just randomly bumping into people I know, but others are recognizing me, too.
Nearly eight months ago I moved here knowing nobody. I had no social circle, no friends in the area, no network to speak of beyond Tomm. The fact that I not only attended but thoroughly enjoyed a huge dance party last weekend is an enormous step for me. I can confidently say I'm making friends and finding my niche in this big city. Now that's an accomplishment.
