Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters

I do not remember much about this J.D. Salinger book beyond the title, and the fact that I enjoyed it. Like most college students of my generation (generation, god it hurts to say that) I went through a Salinger and Catcher in the Rye (Zabhegyezo) phase. My shop manager Tunde did her thesis on Salinger, but most Hungarians have never heard of him, though they have probably heard of A Zabhegyezo. What has stuck in my mind over the years is a scene from Franny and Zooey when the kids are playing in their room, the bookshelves lined with both kids books and religious tomes (Old Testament, New Testament, Koran, Book of Mormon, ...). The parents had decided to let the kids read these books, or not, choose one religion, mix or match, or ignore religion completely. Although a rabid atheist, if I ever have kids, this is the tact I will also take. As the only Jew in the Roman Catholic Xaverian Brothers High School, I was exempt from having to take religious education, but chose the first year to take the classes out of curiosity. Hell, I got an extra 40 days off for religious holidays and I wanted to know why. In addition, I figured I would encounter religious Roman Catholics the rest of my life, so I might as well learn something about them. In fact, my favorite teacher (and one of my only friends at the school) was Father Arnes, an eraser-throwing red-bearded Jesuit who came equipped with his own tallit and yarmulke to my brother's bar mitzvah. Of the Christian religions I have encountered, the Canadian Anglican seems to me the most welcoming, since they view worship as something you can do anywhere and not necessarily in a church, while the church buildings themselves act more as social and community centers. This is not to be confused with Scottish Anglican in the Hebrides where they not only disallow sex on the sabbath, but even go so far as to separate the male and female farm animals so they cannot shag either! I intentionally flunked out of Hebrew school (like Sunday school, for some reason held on Wednesdays, but on Thursdays and for Jews). It was the only way to get out of it, to the eternal embarrassment of my mother, the principal. I was only finally to break with my family's religious obligations after my bar mitzvah, but not even then entirely. I agreed to a bar mitvah for my grandmother and on three conditions: I get to keep the money for college; I get a translation of whatever the hell I would have to recite, and if it were too religious I could ask for something else; and most importantly; I could do whatever I wanted, or nothing, about religion from then on without any interference from my family. The money went to college, and the pizza and pool party were great until Billy put a slice of pizza down Heidi's swimsuit; but I was still given shit about religion until I was able to move out 4 years later. Although not a religious family except on high holidays, I still had to recite prayers in order to receive my Hanukkah presents, and I was once kicked out of the house for bringing in a Papa Gino's pizza on Passover (no leavened bread for 8 days).I have always viewed churches as a convenient place to get out of the rain, but not much more. However, many years ago I went with my friend Darcy to the Glide Church in San Francisco. The church is filled to the rafters every Sunday, with an amazing mish-mash of people: yuppies, hippies, bankers, blacks, chinese, gays, straights, HIV positive, the whole spectrum - all holding hands and singing non-denominational songs following the bouncing ball on a huge screen to music played by a live Christian rock band. The black Baptist preacher I don't think mentioned god once, and his Chinese wife recited some very nice poetry. Leaving the church, the priest and his wife hugged everyone coming out. And you could by a cassette for a dollar with the entire service on it. The atmosphere was so friendly and supportive, I think if religion had been more like that when I was a kid, I might have been a church goer.

I guess all this is rattling about in my memory now because I had to put a new roof on my house last week, hence the Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters. The beams were full of termites, and it is a wonder it has lasted 7 years rather than the 2-3 years as predicted upon purchase. The new roof has cost as much as the damned house and land, but at risk of losing the entire house, it had to be done. Friends from Perkupa, the next-door village, started on Monday morning 6am, and in 2 days they had the old roof off and all the beams for the new roof up. I thought I would be home the next day, but this is apparently the easy part. Putting on the small cross-pieces to hold the tiles, and replacing the tiles take the most effort. It is amazing to watch these guys without any safety equipment (ah, the countryside) climb up an a-frame of beams and use a chainsaw one-handed to cut by sight. But the roof, for all its expense, should be good for another 90 years. The last piece to go on was the metal cross above one of the fake roof windows.

I am not sure if the custom is much wide-spread anymore, but the practice of communal barn-raising or roof-raising is to be admired. A set of families all needing a barn or a house would together to build one barn for a member family then everyone would help with the next ones too. Habitat for Humanity still engages and helps the working poor in this way. Habitat provides the materials and expertise, while the member families provide the labor. I have several problems with the Habitat “builds”: they are usually single-family, on green-field sites, and do not follow any environmental or energy efficient guidelines. In addition, homelessness increases by the population of Mumbai every year. Without treating the issue of population control, which includes kicking the Pope in the ass and getting the Catholic Church to allow contraception; overpopulation, homelessness and poverty will only increase. Hungary is one of the few places in the world where population has been consistently on the decrease for at least the last two decades. But the barn-raising concept is good, especially since it enables people to help themselves, and empowers them to take pride in, and responsibility for their future. As a college student one summer, I helped my (then-) girlfriend Jen at the Rural Community Action Network in Maine with a similar scheme for gardens. Everyone living in rural areas knows not to leave your car windows open at harvest time, because you are liable to get a car full of zucchini or other vegetable (though zucchini and cucumbers tended to be the usual culprits) from garden overflow. RCAN took advantage of this by making agreements with elderly people with over productive gardens. Volunteers like myself would help these people weed, provide seeds, etc. and in return we would collect the overflow and donate it to the rural poor.