This is Norma speaking: Tonight is the first night of Passover. We will all be praying, regardless of our beliefs, for liberation from this on-going affliction we call coronavirus. A dear friend in Philadelphia (I know her from Oaxaca) writes comedy. She doesn’t publish it, except to send her pieces out periodically to friends and family. I am swooning in admiration for her cutting wit and genius. This is all her original material. She needs to be hired by Saturday Night Live. Meanwhile, I received her permission to post — anonymously. She doesn’t want to receive hate mail. You can send hate mail to me.
Passover Greetings from Jared and Ivanka
As you may know the Jewish Holiday of Passover begins today, April 8, at sundown. As a public service I am pleased to turn this newsletter over to the best, most fabulous, amazingly Jewish Jew, Jared Kushner! Jared will explain to us the meaning of Passover and the seder plate, as he, Ivanka and 25 members of their family gather, at the home of top Jew and white nationalist, Stephen Miller.
Great to see you all, especially without those unattractive masks! As Dad would say, you women look like COWS in those masks! Anyway, Passover is a time for family, for gathering around a table and expressing gratitude for our freedom, which is a luxury not afforded to many people around the world, such as those children in holding pens at the border, forcibly separated from their parents and exposed to a pandemic.
The story of how the Jews became free from slavery in the land of Egypt is told during the seder, a ritual service and ceremonial dinner. One of our customs is to open our door and set out a cup of wine for the prophet Elijah who arrives to announce the coming of the Messiah and to encourage the Jewish people to do what’s right and to STEER CLEAR OF FALSE GODS.!!!!!!!!!! This year Elijah will be coming from Sweden or Norway; prophets from sh—h— countries will not be welcomed in or given wine. This year is also special because we are waging war on an insidious enemy! As Churchill said during World War ll: “ We will fight them on the beaches, on the landing grounds, in the fields; in the streets and in the hills—and we shall never surrender!” Yes—we will be fighting the CDC, the environmentalists, the free press, and every adult in the room!!! We will fight them in the Supreme court, in the halls of the Senate, on the golf courses and in NATO if we have to——and we shall never surrender!!
Traditionally, the youngest child asks the 4 questions, that inquire “why is this night different from all other nights?” If you don’t mind, I will just skip ahead to the answers on this one. The main answer is that this night IS NOT DIFFERENT FOR ME!!!!! As the Senior, most Senior grand poobah, Little Prince, special, most special, best special, more than special, special advisor to the TROLL-IN-CHIEF, I am conducting BUSINESS AS USUAL!!!!!!! That includes:
*first and foremost, continuing to file eviction and debt collection lawsuits at my properties!
* bringing peace to the Middle East (any day now. I’m personal friends with Mohammed bin Salman and schmooze with him all the time on WHAT’S APP)!
*studying for my on-line medical degree (I already know everything there is to know about the coronavirus, I just don’t have that piece of paper!!)
*checking to make sure that Dad is still #1 on Facebook!!!
*making sure that the supply of masks, gowns and other protective gear needed for a pandemic are SAFELY STORED UNDER LOCK AND KEY in “our” Federal stockpile
*getting a federal coronavirus response website up and running in time for effective prevention and the saving of thousands of lives
* submitting Dad’s name and paperwork for the Nobel prize
* scouring the country to recruit more entitled whitebread misogynistic, fratboy candidates for future Supreme Court positions! Lots of meeting with Mitch McConnell on this one!!
* trying to get Mary Barra, the CEO of GM to make ventilators. I think she can do the job because she is not as bad looking as Carly Fiorina.
* working to expand the recent voter suppression efforts in Wisconsin to other states!
* teaming up with Stephen Miller on a new print and online newspaper, “FAKE JEWS”!!!!!
WHEW!!!!!
So, back to Passover. In the Bible, plagues were rained down on Egypt for not releasing the Jews from slavery: stuff like locusts, boils, blood. In modern lingo these plagues are climate change scientists; Nancy Pelosi; the free press; Socialists– who are receiving food stamps, Medicaid, subsidized housing, or federal unemployment extensions; LGBTQ people; unattractive women; the English language; empathy; compassion; and common sense. We will fight them on the beaches, etc. etc. The worst plague was the smiting of the firstborn son in every household. The Jews were spared because they knew in advance to put an X on their doors so the Angel of Death would Pass Over their homes. Except for the Jews, all the other firstborn sons were slain!!!!!!!!!!!!! In modern times, the first born son would, of course be Andrew Cuomo!!!!!!!!!! Enough said, if you get my point!!!!!!!!
So now i will walk you through the meaning of foods on the seder plate. They are all symbols meant to remind us that the Jews went from slavery to freedom.
* SHANK BONE symbol of the special sacrifice made by the Jews on the eve of the exodus from Egypt. In modern terms, this commemorates the special sacrifice made by Dad to close Mar-A-Lago and also for sharing some rolls of toilet paper with close members of the White House staff
*HARD BOILED EGG represents the continuing cycle of life and the will to survive of the Jewish people. This is so appropriate for my wife who has the will to survive the temporary closing of her handbag and jewelry manufacturing factories in China. Hard boiled eggs also reference her DD breast implants.
*BITTER HERBS remind us of the bitterness of slavery. In modern times, this refers to the bitterness of the crybaby governors who are not nice to Dad!
*VEGETABLE, usually parsley, that is dipped in salt water to symbolize he tears of slavery, as well as spring and the spirit of hope and faith in the future. We don’t have parsley, so i just shredded the money we would pay our cook, our nanny, our driver and our cleaning people who would normally be coming in to work but now they aren’t. Shredded bills really look like parsley!! yay!
SWEET PASTE/HAROSET usually made with apples, walnuts and red wine, it represents what Jewish slaves used to make bricks and mortar for their overlords; it also stands for the sweetness of freedom. In modern times this stands for the bricks, mortar and gold leaf of the Trump Hotels; it also stands for the sweetness of freedom still enjoyed by the all the maids who work there who have not yet been detained or deported by ICE!!
And finally, some of you may want to know why we eat matzah on Passover. Well, when the Jews had to flee Egypt, they had to take off in a hurry, before they had time for their bread to rise. So today we eat matzah, which is unleavened bread, and is also called the bread of affliction. And Ivanka and i know from affliction. We had to cancel a pre-paid ski vacation because of the impeachment trial!!!
At the end of the service it’s traditional to say: Next year in Jerusalem!!!
Signing off with love, the most special of all the special advisors who have ever been and will ever be special, Jared and Ivanka
“BEING SOMEONE’S DAUGHTER ACTUALLY ISN’T A CAREER QUALIFICATION” Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez
An Immigrant to Mexico, Not an Ex-Pat
This year, I will live in North Carolina for only a few weeks. I will be here to vote. That is mostly why I bought my apartment condo in Downtown Durham, though you could say I could vote absentee ballot. But to do that, you need a permanent address. A post office box will not do.
I’m prompted by this fact to remind myself that I am a Mexican immigrant and not an ex-pat. I will explain.
Read this important definition: Ex-Pat or Immigrant
I am here, too, because I have good friends, dear family and a need to have one toe in the water, even though the water now is scalding hot. We are getting burned.
You haven’t heard from me in a while and there’s a reason. My return to Durham was interrupted by Hurricane Florence and the aftermath of clean-up and tragedy, babies loosened from the arms of their fleeing mothers, ripped away by the torrents of rushing water, lost forever. The news captured me. Saddened me.
Then, the drama of the Senate Judiciary Committee interviews of Christine Blasey Ford and a Supreme Court Justice nominee called Kav permeated every fiber of my being. I watched the entire day of testimony from start to finish. Big mistake.
Now, I’m in recovery, big time. I’ve been in near isolation for three weeks. Not much to write about, it seems, in comparison to the big events called politics in the United States of America. I understand why people want to escape. Go on a cruise. Eat ice cream. Not vote. The aftermath disgusts me.
SOLD. intricate embroidered blouse, San Bartolome Ayautla. $265. Size L-XL
In the meantime, I was asked to write a chapter for a book about ex-pat women from the USA who moved to Mexico. Did we flee a god-forsaken nation hell-bent on self-destruction or what?
I procrastinated. Then, I finally sat down to write it. As soon as it’s published, I’ll share it with you. But the most important kernel for me is that I came to realize I’m an immigrant, not an ex-pat.
The distinction is subtle and also simple. The standard definition: An ex-pat lives outside her/his home country. The standard definition: An immigrant claims their adopted country and intends to live there indefinitely.
Immigrants put down roots and embrace the culture, consider that the place they have moved to will always be home. Makes some attempt to learn the language and interact with the local community. Realizes that humility goes much further than arrogance. Defers to local customs. Waits for acceptance.
Ex-pats in Mexico are snowbirds, needing a warm and affordable place to spend the winter. Ex-pats might also be those testing the waters of retirement, determining where to live on a fixed budget that will stretch farther. They are far away from home in the USA or Canada, but for most, replicate that sense of home in a new place, sequestered in gated communities, attached to tennis clubs and those who speak the same language.
If I am being judgmental, please share your opinions.
This discussion gave me pause to think about where I fit in the definition, and part of the ultimate question we all must ask ourselves from time to time: Who am I? Where do I belong?
I’ve been part of Oaxaca for 13 years. Not so long in the scope of my life. But long enough to know it is home and I will live there indefinitely.
Next Monday, Omar arrives. He is the youngest of the Chavez Santiago children. He is bringing beautiful hand-woven rugs for sale and teaching cochineal dye workshops. After Durham, we are going to Philadelphia together where he will be hosted at five different venues. You’ll hear more.
Then, for me, I’m back to Mexico on November 8. After I’ve voted. It won’t be too soon.
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Posted in Cultural Commentary, Mexican Immigration
Tagged immigration, Mexico, North Carolina, Oaxaca, politics