21st Century Bogatyr: Tamar's Mushrooms

by Zvi Baranoff

Carpenters were hired to build the mushroom growing facility, according to the specifications of Tamar's sketchbook. It was built at the airport, adjacent to Der Profesor's house, where Dovid and his ever expanding brood continued to live. Tamar supervised the construction. It was assuredly unusual to have a five year old girl overseeing a construction project.

Tamar sat above the workmen, clutching her favorite doll, while watching the work closely. She periodically marched in to assure the correction of the tiniest irregularities in alignment or any misplaced nails.

Tamar would approach with the rag doll in one hand, her sketchbook in the other and a very seriously pouting countenance. She would insist that the miscreant workman resolve the issue. Then, she would return to her perch with her doll.

After several days, the mushroom cultivation facility was completed, including Tamar's final inspection. The workmen went on to other jobs with less demanding taskmasters. Tamar went out to play.

And while playing, Tamar heard the voices calling to her and she followed the sound. When she came upon the bloom of mushrooms, she carefully harvested as many as would fit into her backpack in the precise way that she had been shown in her previous trance-like encounter with the fungi of Planet Birobidzhan. She returned to the newly constructed cultivation facility and successfully transplanted her find.

The design of the facility allowed for a perpetual growth cycle. Within a few weeks, the first harvest was made while other chambers were in various stages of growth. Tamar brought the first harvested fungi to her father and Dovid shared them with Der Profesor.

Der Profesor had been fascinated by Dovid's encounters with the fungi of Planet Birobidzhan from the first time he had learned of them. He scoured the library books and the computer databases to learn all that was available about the entheogenic plants and fungi of the Home Planet, although there was no way of knowing if the experiences of the Earth-bound were relevant.

It certainly seemed likely that the largely religious experiences of those that ate cactus flowers, the roots of shrubs, and various fungi on Planet Earth might be a guidepost for similar experiences on Planet Birobidzhan. Der Profesor was certainly willing to find out. However, considering his advanced age, he was not actively hiking through wilderness in a way that would likely lead to a personal encounter with a wild mushroom bloom.

No one had considered the possibility of the cultivation of such until the mushrooms themselves guided Tamar in that way. Cultivation opened up a whole new potential for Der Profesor and others to join in the experimental lessons being offered by the mushrooms of Planet Birobidzhan.

Der Profesor advocated a cautious approach to introducing new people to the experience. The practice of eating these unfamiliar substances and following advice from unknown sources held potentially dangerous and disruptive social consequences.

Tamar did not eat the fleshy mushrooms after the initial consumption for many years. She was transformed by them nonetheless.

Tamar would spend hours at a time maintaining the ideal conditions for the mushrooms. Mushrooms grow in dark damp places and thrive on decaying wood and excrement. Cart loads of such matter were delivered to the airport almost daily.

Tamar would fill her child-size wheelbarrow using her child-sized shovel and maneuver the poignant growing medium into the beds to feed her mushrooms.

Tamar assured that proper temperatures, darkness and humidity levels were maintained in each chamber. She would check gauges, adding water or adjusting the heat when needed. Sometimes, she would just sit, communing with the fungi.

When not directly involved with the mushrooms, Tamar appeared to be a fairly typical little girl, at least to begin with.

Living in a household with more than a dozen older siblings and a gaggle of younger ones, Tamar did not particularly stand out as unusual…at least at first. However, if anyone had taken a closer look, the signposts of disruption would have been evident. Over the following couple of years, however, her odd behavior became obvious to even a casual observer.

Tamar carried an odor of compost and manure with her at all times, even with frequent and assiduous bathing. This may not have been so unusual for a boy living in a small shtetl. It was certainly a bit more unusual for a small girl living in Planet Birobidzhan's third largest city.

Indeed, it could be said that Tamar had a relationship with the fungi. Tamar considered the mushrooms to be hers in the sense of her family rather than her property. She perceived the fungi to be like honored ancestors or perhaps even as her real mother. The mushrooms spoke to her in a tongue that she alone could hear and understand.

Tamar had always been a quiet child. As the daily meticulous communication with fungi continued, she began to speak less and less to people. Living in a large, noisy family, this change went largely unnoticed for a while. That is, until Tamar stopped speaking altogether.

That she stopped speaking altogether is not exactly true. On a rare occasion she could be heard, from a distance, holding a conversation with herself. And, sometimes, when on a long walk with her father, Tamar would climb into Dovid's lap and listen while he recited simple rhymes and Tamar would hum to herself.

It was on such an occasion, a long walk from home on a hot summer day, that they sat in the shade of a large tree. Dovid casually stroked the girl's hair while repeating a nonsense rhyme that he had learned from his mother, the Itsy Bitsy Spider. Tamar turned her head to face her father and spoke.

"Tate," she said, "What's a spider?"

Dovid was surprised to hear her words and hesitated briefly before answering. "A spider, I suppose, is some sort of tiny creature that lives on the Home Planet. We don't have spiders on Planet Birobidzhan," Dovid answered.

"Oh," replied Tamar. "Then, this rhyme is a simplified retelling of the Sisyphus myth," the child rejoined before sliding back into her own silence.

The spinning also was overlooked for a while. Spinning is a common activity for young children. However, the dreidel-like gyrations became pervasive for most of Tamar's waking hours outside of her time directly involved with the mushrooms.

The only other times that Tamar refrained from the odd cyclical behavior was while drawing and making music. Those activities were encouraged by her family. Everyone felt a sense of relief when the spinning subsided.

It was fortuitous that Dovid had an unlimited account at Moshe and Mendel's Jew Harp, Tsatske aun Muzik Krom. Tamar would enter the store in Downtown First Landing, pick up art supplies or a new instrument and exit without a word. The clerks all knew her and would simply make a notation of the "purchase" to be added to Dovid's tab.

Over the next few years, Tamar mastered one instrument after another on her own. She took no lessons. She studied no theory and didn't read music. She played unaccompanied and oblivious to others. She blended sounds that came from some deep internal reservoir or perhaps from the stars.

Sometime after Tamar's thirteenth birthday she once again ate some of the fleshy mushrooms. It was after sunset and Tamar laid in a field staring wordlessly at the star filled sky. The next day, Tamar entered the family home and began interacting with her siblings and their mothers as if there had been nothing unusual about the last eight years.

It was the summer following Tamar's thirteenth birthday that a traveling troupe of klezmorim encamped near the airport and their nightly concerts drew large audiences. Tamar attended every one of the performances. When the troupe moved on, Tamar, with her vast collection of instruments, left with them.

This is not a Jewish story. It is, however, a story about Jews. One does not need to be Jewish to read this tale any more than one needs to be a Hobbit or an Elf to read Lord of the Rings.

This story is a work of fiction. The setting for this tale is in the distant future, on the far away Planet Birobidzhan. This planet was settled by Jewish exiles from Planet Earth.

The population of Planet Birobidzhan has been cut off from the Home Planet for a long time. They have developed their own unique culture, traditions and linguistics.

The language spoken on Planet Birobidzhan is primarily Yiddish. I have sprinkled a significant number of Yiddish words and phrases throughout the telling of the tale. I also refer to various Jewish religious and cultural touchstones.

To make this story more accessible, I have included a glossary of words and phrases in Yiddish and Hebrew that are used as well as some explanations of religious terms and holidays.

I hope that readers find this to be useful.

The link to the Glossary is here:

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2023/01/a-useful-guide-glossary-to-planet.html?m=1

פּלאַנעט ביראָבידזשאַן

Do you want to read more about Planet Birobidzhan? Here are all the posted installments so far, in the order that they were posted. Just click your way through the story!

1 On A Planet Safe for Yidden

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2022/02/on-planet-safe-for-yidden.html

2 Yenne Velt: A History of Planet Birobidzhan

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2022/02/yenne-velt-history-of-planet-birobidzhan.html

3 Another Globe, Perhaps?

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2022/02/another-globe-perhaps.html

4 Bereshis: The Transport & Transformation of the Founders

http://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2022/03/bereshis-transport-transformation-of.html

5 The Town of First Landing

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2022/03/the-town-of-first-landing.html

6 A Personal History of an Early Settler on Planet Birobidzhan

http://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2022/05/a-personal-history-of-early-settler-on.html