First, I want to make one thing absolutely clear. For Jewish people, Pesach is the most significant holiday of the year. The seder, the Passover meal, is perhaps best compared to Christmas or Thanksgiving - if you're not there, you just know your mother will never forgive you. Ever.
However, the seder is much more than a meal. It's a ritual, complete with its own book, its own, bizarre little dishes, and its own songs and prayers. It's also worth keeping in mind that although some of the elements are always the same, no two families have the identical seder. Secular and extremely disinterested Jews might make do with a takeaway and a piece of matzah, whereas those more religiously inclined quite easily stay up til three in the morning, making sure that every word is read, every parsley stalk eaten, and every song sung.
Last week's seder was not the first I had been to, but it was the first since my conversion. As such, it was special - but not so special that my excitement at my near-antique haggadah did not wear off within an hour, and was replaced by severe pangs of hunger. That's the thing, you see - at first there is a great amount of reading, interspersed only by odd, vaguely edible things that stir your appetite but in no way sate your hunger.
As usual, we took turns to read out loud, and the whole process was relatively short and painless - too quick for some, and much too long for others. There was also the normal degree of silliness - this year there were chicken clucks, and many comparisons between the haggadah's "noxious beasts" and the four dogs who were asleep under the table.
Once the wine had been raised, the plagues counted out, the parsley dunked in saltwater, and the roasted shankbone pointed at, it was time to enjoy the boiled eggs with even more saltwater. At this point, this unlikely sounding dish seemed hugely appealing - to the point where I yet again found myself thinking "why don't I have egg and saltwater more often?". But by the time the last bits of yolk were floating around in my bowl, I remembered that starvation played a big part in my excitement.
The main meal, although typically delicious and enormously filling, only really differed from a normal Shabbat meal in the sense that there was no Challah, and the dessert did not contain any flour. Oh, and my mother-in-law made meatballs as well as chicken, which meant that there was even less room for lemon meringue pie (yes, made with a kosher for passover crust) at the end. Somehow, though, I managed - I always do.
This is not really intended to be an educational post - if you want to know the specific details of a seder (such as the fact that those more religious than me and my husband actually have two, not one), have a look here or here. I only want to convey what the seder is to me - family, celebration, spring, and the incredible knowledge that Jews all over the world are reading the same thing and eating the same food. And, however fleetingly, thinking back to those ancestors who crossed the desert and escaped their oppressors thousands of years ago.
Finally, you may be wondering what the saltwater connection is about. Are all Jews drawn to the sea? No, the answer is much more poignant - it serves to remind us of the tears that the Israelites shed in slavery. As much as I still enjoy Christmas, the Seder wins every time when it comes to evocative, edible metaphors.
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