Ashreinu mah tov chelkeinu: Fine, they all hate us, but we love us— and we love being us!
There are long days in the life of a bochur, especially in a double-Adar winter, and sometimes, little conversation breaks with the rebbi, mashgiach or shoel u’meishiv are helpful in getting through seder.
As a bochur, I was a professional instigator, pretty much able to get even the most rigid hanhalah members to schmooze a bit. Not about the weather or sports, of course — the trick was to ask a question so loaded that if they didn’t answer that second, they would have to fear serious hashkafic implications.
(More experienced, seasoned rebbeim never fell for it. They saw through the ruse, smiled understandingly, and said things like, “If this is still weighing on you during bein hasedorim, please come right over.”)
One of the easiest topics was the Israeli army and yeshivos and wearing Tzahal sweatshirts as pajamas. It doesn’t take much more than that to send a rookie mashgiach into full-on Chumash-shiur mode.
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