BEHIND THE SCENES: The 9th of Adar

Sometimes I think I do this more for myself then my stated noble intentions.

AP HaLevi was by my house this past Shabbos and being that he had just returned from holy soil overseas, he came bearing all sorts of holy goodies. Some got seforim, others mikveh water, but I was zocheh to receive his extra copy of the newest Na Nach CD – Purim Edition, of which he had accidentally bought two.

We listened to an excellent track, one that mixed classic trance with classic Purim - and it got me thinking. Since the initial first night rikud on Rosh Chodesh Adar outside the new Glueck beis midrash there hadn’t been much Adar spirit in the air of Washington Heights. With Purim just seven days away it was apparent that something had to be done.

I decided we would bring a giant speaker to Y.U. and position it in Garritanya’s room, conveniently located at the end of the hall in Morg facing Amsterdam Avenue and blast this new Purim Na Nach into the street in an attempt to bring great joy to the whole city.

Next, we needed to assemble a group of the biggest crazies that Y.U. has to offer to come and dance when the music would be played. The only way to do that would be to build up unfounded hype that something grand was going to take place in the street at that time. I put up signs, of course with the YU emblem attached, that there would be “A Gathering” on Tuesday on the corner of 186th Street at 12:15 . Everyone should just wait there and then react when something happened.

The big day came and I started to have my doubts if the Na Nach music was going to cut it. Hype had built up. What was going to happen at 12:15 everyone wanted to know? Some expected circus animals, others a Na Nach truck. I sat patiently in the room, the shades closed, the speaker in position. I locked the door. I set up the camera to catch the action and then at the right moment began to play the music.

At first nobody knew what to do. Everyone stood there looking up at Morg uncertain where the (not quite loud enough) music was coming from.

When the Na Nach track ended, I made a game-time decision to go to Purim Tish which came through at a much louder volume. The rikud began to grow and grow. I attempted to switch to another song but when one switches from one song to another on an iPod there is a brief moment of silence in the process. In that moment, I heard someone knocking on the door.

“Security. Open Up. It’s security. Open the door.”

Security had been notified that there was loud music blasting into the street from one of the rooms in Morg. I knew they were here to stop me and take me away, maybe even send me to Siberia, and so there were two things I could do at this point:

1) I could open the door and try to explain to the Amalekite rent-a-cops what exactly was going on in our month of Adar and why this music was necessary.

OR

2) I could not open the door and not explain it to them.

I chose route 2. I realized, however, that they would sooner or later get a key and make there way into the room. Garritanya was outside in the circle and I was cornered. I put the camera down, still running, and began to think of where I could hide so that when they inevitably breached the bolted door I would not be found.

First I tried to squeeze into the small closets that Morg provides. Not happening. I’m a small fellow but not that small. And then it struck me. It was a move I must have made up in my early years at Camp Mesorah, and later used at Reishit during morning wake-up. What does one do when they don’t want to be bothered by their counselor/division head/madrich while rounds are being made for Shacharis? You curl up into the smallest ball you can, and crawl to the end of the bed, partially hanging off, so that it looks like blanket is just rolled up on the edge of the bed.

I stayed there, heart beat pounding, breathing fast, waiting for the Amalekites to break through and try to steal Purim. Keep in mind: There was absolutely no reason to do this. Had I merely opened the door and explained to them that the music was over and we were sorry if it caused a disturbance, they probably would have left. But this way was much more exciting.

From the darkness under the Lubavitch blanket, I heard the rikkud getting stronger outside. I sang along quietly under my blanket, waiting for what I knew was bound to happen. And then they broke through.

I think it was two of them, maybe three. They had walkie-talkies and were speaking Spanish. ‘Don’t breathe too heavily,’ I thought. ‘They might see the blanket moving.’

“Where is he?” one said to the other.
“This is very funny,” said the other one.

I felt them looking around the room. They approached the speaker by the window.

“You think it could be a bomb or something?” one said to the other as he looked at the speaker.

‘Are you serious?!’ I thought. ‘Aside from the fact that it is clearly a giant speaker and not a bomb, the last thing I need right now is for them to go and call the bomb squad and have them come with their sniffing dogs to find me under this blanket.’

They started talking into their radios in Spanish.

They left for a while, though in my mind I began to dream up crazy scenarios, thinking that they were still standing in the room, silently, waiting for me to make a wrong move and come out of hiding. And so I waited under the blankets. I had managed to make a little air opening for myself so I could get some oxygen. Lying still and covered for twenty minutes can get kind of hot and uncomfortable.

When I heard them come in again, I realized I had missed my opportunity to escape and that nobody had been in the room all along. They figured that whoever was involved in this must be outside dancing and after a brief discussion they decided that they would wait for him to come back in the hallway rather then surprise him in his room.

Garritanya returned and a brief discussion ensued outside. Garritanya, himself, was unsure how I was able to leave and lock the door behind me since I didn’t have a key. He came into the room with them, now accompanied by the assistant Head of Housing. I laid still.

Garritanya apologized and said that he realized that it had been loud but it was just a few minutes, a stunt for the month of Adar. The name ‘Josh’ came up but a last name had not been mentioned. They questioned him about this Josh person.

You never really know a person until they are put under pressure and asked to talk about someone else in a situation that they think is “behind-their-back.” Garritanya shined in his moment, as any true Lubavitcher would.

“What’s Josh’s last name?” asked the security guard.
“Why do you need to know his last name?” replied Garritanya.
“So you’re not going to give us his last name?”
“Not until you tell me what is going to happen.”
“Ok, so you’re not going to give us his last name.”
“No, not until I know what you need it for.”
“Okay, that’s all I need to know,” said the security guard.

In the mean time they continued to search the room. They looked in the closet that I had first tried to get into and then even in the compartment above the closets, as if I would have been able to somehow manage to hoist myself up into a 2 x 2 ft. box seven feet off the ground.

Garritanya took charge now.

“Okay, so you have my name, you know where I live, is there anything else you need from me right now?”
“I guess not.”
“Okay, then have a nice day.”

The entourage left the room. I heard the door click. I popped out from under the covers.
“Hello.”

We both lost it. Garritanya had been uncertain as to how I had escaped but still left my camera, shoes, phone, glasses and jacket all behind.

We sat there whispering for a few moments, leaving enough time to make sure that nobody was still outside. We checked the hallways. The coast was clear.

I thanked him for his commitment, packed up my things, and headed out. I tried to think of something holy as I exited the building, like someone escaping from the grips of Amalekites, but all that came to my Western mind was the end of Shawshank or Ocean’s Eleven, as if I had just pulled of the greatest scheme, though in reality I had just hid from a bunch of YU security guards.

I walked into the street, a free man, still shaking a little, but one step closer to the great and awesome day of Purim.