I have always been a person who prides themselves on being open–minded, and when someone asks me to do something unique or interesting, the answer is almost always yes; when I received a text from The Russian asking me if I would like to go to dinner at a hippie commune, I said why not? I thought it would be an experience akin to Wanderlust.

When we got there, however, it was a bit different.

It wasn’t really a hippie commune, more a… I dont want to say cult.

The group was a chapter of the Twelve Tribes, an international religious community that actually has been accused of being a cult, and a racist one at that.   Cool.

How did I find myself here on a Friday night you ask? Great Question.

The Russian’s friend from Columbia University (where The Russian attended college because he is a smarty) came to his family’s home on the Cape, he returned to visiting the vegetarian sandwich shop in town, buying a sandwich every day for lunch and getting to know those who worked there.  Turns out, the shop funds this co-op/community/culty thing; they all live together with their families and children in three houses on one massive property – they grow some of their food, bake their own bread and desserts, and home school their children on site.  They told The Russian’s friend (and his fiance, who was vacationing with him) that every Friday they host dinners who any interested parties that want to come check out the community.  Being under the assumption that these people lived on a hippie commune rather than a religious sect, he gladly accepted the invitation and invited us.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like these people were not nice, they were super pleasant. I ended up talking to a girl named Tor the whole night, who seemed excited I would be blogging about the experience.  She answered all of my questions about her community and her life. She was born into the community and has been traveling through different chapters all over the country for the last five years (she’s 21). She told me that all members have Hebrew names and their purpose is to “try and live life cohesively with one another.”  There is about 60 people in the three houses on the Cape. She also alluded that they were the chosen people and while praying the group spoke in Hebrew a lot, so I missed the point of the prayers.

Now I don’t think I walked into some Manson family stuff ; I’m not deluded.  These people dressed plainly, the women wore long skirts and covered their hair and the men all wore these hemp headbands.  Also there were a lot of children. A lot. It was kinda wierd, but totally unique.

Since this is a food blog and I DID go to dinner, I do have something to say about the food: it wasn’t bad for home made food, especially considering they had a whole mess of mouths to feed.  They surprisingly made Chinese food, egg rolls and chicken with stir fry and veggies and a salad.  Everything was very healthy, and like I said, it wasn’t five–star home cooking, but I didn’t get sick or anything or suffer through eating it. I also was obsessed with their bread and grasshopper pie.

After we ate, the group danced for a while around us, and we left after about a half–hour.  I guess we felt like we experienced enough.

So I guess the moral of the story is go anywhere, but go with an open mind.  Overall, it was an experience I am glad I had .I even high–fived The Russian later that night for adding yet another wierd story to our collection. It’s good to be reminded that this world is full of people, some living off the grid and others in the public eye, but just because your beliefs and lifestyles are different doesn’t mean you cannot connect with people from all walks of life.

-L

Wanderlust photo (cc) filmofilia