With friendly banter and lively arguments. With people speaking simultaneously, interrupting each other, in patterns that feel familiar, culturally acceptable, and as a Yiddish anarchist friend of mine would say, shows you’re listening and engaged. With comparing how hard it feels these days to be against fascism and Zionism as an Israeli Jew versus a diasporic or non-Israeli Jew. With a hodgepodge of greasy or sweet, or sweet and greasy, food. With a hodgepodge of people, some of whom knew each other before this miracle of finding and pulling together rad, anarchist, and/or anti-zionist Jews in a city where Jewish life/people/infrastructure was killed off by fascism, but most of whom just met over this Xanuka in Athens, including many for the first time on this last night, and in a lovely free queer events space that recently experienced (actual) antisemitism. With people coming late, or if leaving early, not sneaking out quietly but instead loudly explaining why they have to go. With plans that get disrupted by our own hyperactivity lack of focus, yet no one seems to mind. With kvetching, which in turn means being able to be genuine and honest, because there’s much to kvetch about, and as a form of social glue. With curiosity and lots of questions. With gifting out two Jewish anarchist and antifascist stickers to everyone, so they can redecorate urban walls that too often contain hurtful (to this Jewish anarchist at least) street art, and happily meeting the (alleged) person who stenciled “Jews against genocide” and “Israelis against genocide” all over Exarcheia and swapping stories about the ways that non-Jewish radicals felt the need to consistently deface those stencils. With a paper plate catching piles of melting wax from one Hanukkiah, and with the other Hanukkiah’s free yet crappy candles, sans paper plate or the “traditional” tin foil beneath them, creating a pool of mostly red wax on the table. With candles self-determining their own space-times, burning at various rates and paces, and with the last glow of the last candle on this longest night of the year affording enough light to guide us onward.
