Happy to kvetch

One Shabbos, a few weeks back, we had some Americans over for lunch. We spent a really nice meal. Some of my food worked out, some new recipes I tried didn’t quite, but no one starved. Yisroel told a story, spoke about that week’s Torah portion, and sang a song. And we talked. Well, we kvetched, mostly.

We kvetched about the ridiculous visa laws, and about the absurd prices of tickets to get just about anywhere. We kvetched about the broken up roads, and the huge potholes in middle of the street. We kvetched about the city’s 2 traffic lights, and the law enforcement officials enforcing stupid laws.

The truth is that we enjoyed all the kvetching. We are all American living in a Russian city, and we commiserated with each other.

At one point, Yisroel turned to one fellow, the chief kvetcher of us all. Why does he live here, Yisroel asked, if he hates it so much? It’s not that he hates it, our friend answered. He’s Jewish, and Jews kvetch. He would kvetch anywhere. In fact, he loves Vladivostok, and chose to live here just because he likes it so much.

Mendel likes to run around the house yelling ‘Happy!’ He often specifies just who is happy – himself, his mother, his father, the cleaning lady, his aunt with whom he just spoke, and most often, his baby sister.

And we are. We are happy. We love it here in Vladivostok. It is home, it’s pleasant, and we are doing what we love best – guiding Jews to reclaim their lost heritage

So if I kvetch a lot, bear in mind that, I am, after all, Jewish. My kvetches are not indicative of anything. I love it here.