Dipping in Aruba
By Helene StorchWe had amazing food, luxurious accommodations, exciting water sports, enchanted evenings, tropical breezes, and technicolor days surrounded by turquoise, crystal waters.
We snorkeled. We water cycled. We climbed rock cliffs. We toured the ocean floor in a submarine.
It was a fantasy-come-true family get-together. My parents had treated us to this dream vacation at the Americana in Aruba, a five-star hotel. There was my brother, a sister, their spouses, and my nieces and nephews. This was a big departure from our usual journey to the Catskill Mountains in New York State.
We had everything – but a mikvah. Owing to a glitch in my menstrual cycle, the absence of a mikvah presented a challenge.
What to do? To me it seemed obvious. My husband was incredulous – no, astonished – when I told him that I would turn the Caribbean into a mikvah.
"Helene," he said, "I think you're nuts! Do you want to risk a shark attack or pneumonia, just so we can make love?! Wait a few days until we get home and use our community mikvah!"