The Orthodox Jewish community in Williamsburg, Brooklyn is fixated on one costume and one costume only; the clown! Maybe it has to do with Purim...... I don't know. Birthdays....Anniversaries....Sheva Brochos...you name it...just the clown! And because their Sabbath ends at sundown on Saturday, their parties generally don't start until fairly late; 9:30...10:00 PM......there is always much joy, laughter, and high energy.
Dinah turned 19. She is engaged to marry Lazer very soon. Her future in-laws wanted to welcome her into the family in a singularly unique way.........the clown! Because I'm coming from another delivery, I can't put my make-up on until I get to the location......The street is pretty well-lit, so I put the make-up on IN the car.....the neighborhood is also very active with many festivities going on after sundown and many children are running around in the street....they flock to me like a magnet. Boys all dressed alike in white shirt, black pants, and payess (hair hanging down the side in ringlets) and girls modestly dressed in long skirts, long sleeves, and high necklines. They lean on my car, dirty hands pressed against the window, peering in while I apply my make-up, whispering in Yiddish to each other.
Though born and raised here in New York City, their English is not very good and they have a decidedly distinct accent...my five years of High School German allows me to pick up some words, given that Yiddish is a German dialect with words from Hebrew. One enterprising young boy knows enough to ask me for a "card", meaning a business card.......well, once I hand one out, all the rest of the crew want a card of their very own. Hands are thrust into my face as they say, "A card! Give me a card!" I quickly exhaust my supply.
They are fascinated with this "goy" from outside of their community. I "milk" the makeup session, taking my time applying the make-up, waiting for the call on my cell phone, signaling the coast is clear and to come in and sing to Dinah.
Ten minutes after I sing, I'm back at my car. The kids are nowhere to be found. And if weren't for the smudgy fingerprints all over my window, you would have never known they were there in the first place.
Kerry
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