From The Editor

Purim: The unusual Jewish festival celebrated each year, which encourages us to: a. read and perform a story of a young woman who wins a beauty pageant; b. drown out the sound of the villain’s name in the above story using a boisterous medley of jeers and ratchets; c. wear fanciful and absurd costumes; d. get drunk; e. eat triangular-shaped biscuits filled with sticky black seeds.

When thinking about Purim objectively, it all seems rather ridiculous.

So, is it any wonder that as a people, we’re a funny lot? And not always so intentionally, either.

With Brexit came a tidal wave of those in Britain seeking other ways to reclaim their European citizenship. Being of immediate Bulgarian descent, I was one such individual.

Within an application interrogating my religion and requiring every ounce of personal information (bar a stool sample), it was necessary to get a letter from my doctor, verifying that I was not riddled with any communicable diseases. After specifying on several occasions to my doctor’s surgery that I didn’t need my previous medical history on the citizenship application, just my vaccination record and declaration of my free-from x, y, and z status, my request seemed to go unnoticed.

Once the entire application was filled in, all of my documents apostilled, stamped, verified by a multitude of agencies in both the US and Britain and translated into Bulgarian, I checked the documents to make sure everything was in proper order before submitting my application to the Bulgarian Consulate. When it came to my medical report, I had little idea of what much of it meant in English, let alone in Bulgarian. Scrutinising the report now, on closer

monica rabinowitz

inspection, a word on the English document stood out - Hypertrichosis. Apparently, in the early 90s, I was afflicted by such a condition. I immediately did a Google search and to my horror, discovered that Hypertrichosis was another word for… Werewolf Syndrome. It seemed perfectly obvious to me that I was not a werewolf. But as for the Bulgarian authorities….

For the next 24 hours, I was seething with anger at the audacity of my doctor’s surgery to include confidential information that did not need to go on the application. And more rage that this was a medical condition on a tick box that was incorrectly ticked and that I never possessed. Sure, like many dark-haired Semitic women, I’ve been for laser hair removal - but, a werewolf?? I am certain I was never that hairy. And then there was the panic I felt - that after all the hours of time and effort spent on my citizenship application, it could be rejected - On the grounds that I was a Jew? No. That I was the granddaughter of an industrialist who escaped in the war? No. It would simply be because I was an American werewolf in London.

This month, in celebration of Purim, we’re presenting articles on living humorously, in addition to hearing about the progression of our building works and fundraising efforts, a fantastic new opportunity to work with LGBTQ+ refugees, and news from our members and the Board of Deputies.

Editing my penultimate issue of Shofar, I’d like to say what a joy and pleasure it has been to work on. We are hoping to find an equally enthusiasticeditor/reader/writer/creative thinker to take-up the reigns for our May edition and beyond and welcome your insightful, collaborative, and benevolent contribution. Please get in touch if this might be you!