Sukkot

Gimme Shelter

I am buying homeless signs for Sukkot this year.

I Rob Eshman

LOS ANGELES (Jewish Journal)

I

started building my sukkah in
December. To those of you who are
sukkah DIYers, you know how ridicu-
lous this sounds.
A sukkah is the ritual but that Jews
build each year on the holiday of Sukkot,
which begins this year on the evening of
Sept. 18. You set it up after Yom Kippur;
you take it down after the eight days of
Sukkot are over. Most sukkahs come as
easy-to-make pre-fab kits — setting one
up takes all of 30 minutes, even for a tool-
challenged people.
So why did I start making mine eight
months ago?
Because this year, I'm making a sukkah
from homeless signs.
I collected my first one on a whim. At
the off-ramp of the 10 Freeway at Lincoln
Boulevard in Santa Monica, Calif., a man
was standing with a crude cardboard sign
that said, "50 But Not Dear I couldn't
have said it better myself, I thought. When

he approached me and asked for some
change, I heard myself blurting out, "Five
dollars for the sign."
From there, my lark became a mis-
sion. To the next person, a woman at the
median strip at Venice and Overland, I
gave $3 — it was all I had on me. Her sign
said, "Hungry."
I kept going. As a kid, I was obsessed
by the famous LIFE magazine photo of
a well-dressed man selling apples for a
nickel on a Manhattan street corner. I
harbored inchoate fears of living in such
a world.
And here we are.
I stopped each time I saw someone with
a sign and offered to buy every one I could
without causing a traffic accident. And
what, friends and family asked me, would
I do with all of them?
At some point it dawned on me: Build a
sukkah.
The booths we are commanded to build
on Sukkot are a reminder of the dwell-
ings in which the Children of Israel lived
following the Exodus. While the shelter's
walls can be made of any material, the

roof must be covered only with organic
matter — palm fronds, bamboo — spaced
wide enough to let some raindrops
through.
Why not, I thought, build a sukkah
whose walls are made entirely from home-
less signs affixed to a bamboo frame?
During Sukkot, we eat our meals and
sometimes sleep in the shelter we have
created. Its fragility and impermanence is
a reminder of our own. The shelter it pro-
vides is welcome, but unstable. A sukkah
is not a home.
Neither, my sukkah will remind us, are
the streets of Los Angeles. The human suf-
fering that can be found in the shadow of
our comfortable homes is shameful. That
such homelessness occurs in the midst of
enormous wealth is beyond the pale.
Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti has
pledged not to just manage homelessness,
but to end it. He has embraced innova-
tive solutions like permanent supportive
housing, which combines low-cost shelters
with a full array of social services like
childcare, job training, substance abuse
and mental health counseling.

A sukkah built entirely of homeless
signs will stand as a constant reminder to
all of us of the work that still needs to be
done. The entire structure will be not just
a symbol of our fragility, but of the fragile
existence so many people in this county
lead on the streets each day. The suk-
kah will stand until the mayor meets his
promise — simple.
Now, here's where you come in: As of
now, I have enough signs to form just one
wall. A sukkah has at least three walls and
a roof. This sukkah needs more signs. It
needs more builders. It needs a visible,
public place to stand. It needs you.
Go to the website, homelesssukkah.com ,
to find out how you can help collect signs.
There are, unfortunately, a lot more
signs to buy.

❑

Rob Eshman is the publisher and editor in chief

of TRIBE Media Corp./Jewish Journal. E-mail

him at robe®jewishjournal.com . You can follow

him on Twitter ®foodaism.

Creative Recycling

Repurposing your lulav and etrog.

Binyamin Kagedan
JNS.org

A

nother High Holiday season is
upon us, which means Sukkot
is right around the corner. In no
time you'll be ordering your annual bou-
quet of palm fronds, myrtle and willows,
and an etrog (citron) — the famous Four
Species.
Given the state of the economy these
days, it's painful to buy anything that you
can only use once. Why not stretch the
value of your lulav and etrog this year with
a little creative repurposing post-festival?
When they can be shaken and blessed no
more, try one or all of these suggestions for
getting the most out of your four species.

Lulav
The lulav bundle, including the palm
fronds after which it is named, twigs of
myrtle (hadasim) and willow branches
(aravot), has customarily been put aside
after the Sukkot holiday and saved until
Passover time. Having by then dried out,
they are used to fuel the fire that burns
the chametz found during the final clean-
ing of the home or as kindling in a wood-

fire oven being used to bake matzah.
Some also have the tradition of using
the dried lulav palm as a broom to sweep
up those last bits of hidden chametz.
These ritual uses are considered a
respectful way to dispose of the lulav,
which has the status of a sacred object in
Jewish law.
For something new this year, consider
nourishing your creative side by exploring
the art of palm weaving. The individual
leaves of the lulav can be twisted and
braided into a variety of beautiful pat-
terns, or folded into shapes like origami.
Chabad.org recommends weaving palm
leaves into a basket that can be used to
hold spices for havdalah.
Check the Web for helpful instructions
and inspiration — there are a number of
websites devoted to the craft, which is also
a popular Easter activity.
As for the hadasim, while still fresh, they
have a sweet and delicate fragrance, and
can also be used for Havdalah purposes.
The oil of myrtle plant is known to have a
variety of medicinal properties, although
extracting it is not exactly a DIY project.
Aravot, which tend to dry and fall apart
rather quickly, don't lend themselves as well

repurposing.
One familiar strategy is to push
whole cloves into the fresh etrog's
peel, filling up as much surface
area as possible. The etrog will
eventually dry out and shrivel up,
but the cloves, now held in place in
the shape of the fruit, retain their
delectable scent and can be used for
years to come as b'samim (spices) for
Havdalah.
Etrogim can also be boiled and
turned into jelly, sliced and candied
Repurposing the etrog as b'samim (spices) for
for a tangy dessert or steeped in
havdalah
vodka for a citron liqueur. You can
find a post on the blog Shivimpanim.
org containing simple step-by-step instruc-
as hadasim to repurposing.
Those who observe Hoshanah Rabah
tions for each of these preparations.
toward the end of Sukkot, however, will
The blog's most original contribution by
be familiar with the custom of whacking
far, however, is reincarnating the etrog as
Mr. Etrog Head, an adorable (and fragrant)
bundles of aravot against the ground, a
mysterious and ancient ritual marking the
take on everyone's favorite customizable
moment that we formally retire the lulav
root vegetable. Who knows — if properly
and etrog for the year.
refrigerated, he just might save you some
money on this year's Channukah gifting!
Etrog
Binyamin Kagedan has a master's degree
The etrog, the most aromatic of the four
in Jewish thought from Jewish Theological
species and the only edible one, offers the
most possibilities for efficient and enjoyable Seminary of America in New York City.

❑

September 12 • 2013

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