Day 4
In the morning after breakfast Daniel and I planned for the Kabbalat Shabbat service we would be leading in the evening and took some time to rest. At 1:00 PM we met Mattvey, the youth group coordinator, and Emma, and walked with them to a restaurant for lunch. Mattvey is a chef – he graduated from a two year cooking degree program and works as a chef though his hobby is working with computers. With Emma’s help, we talked to Mattvey for a long time about a number of different subjects – it started off as a light conversation about cooking, life, movies, etc., but eventually became a very serious and informative talk. We learned that there is a lot of tension between Chabad and the progressive community. This is something we had learned about Chabad in the FSU generally – ((incidentally if you want to read a good summary of contemporary Jewish culture in Moscow there is a terrifically useful chapter in it in David Shneer and Caryn Aviv’s work New Jews: The End of the Jewish Diaspora)) Matvey told us that Chabad claims it has the only legitimate form of Judaism and it does so in a noninclusive way – the Chabad Rabbi sad that a Jew married to a non-Jew is as toxic as a person with AIDS. 80% of the Jewish community in Lipetsk is intermarried and the progressive community welcomes non-Jewish family and friends as members of the community. Chabad has more money, government recognition, and international clout, while the progressive community here is more or less on its own. Chabad meets in a beautiful new synagogue and the progressive community in a small room in an office building, though the Chabad community is only a few years old and the progressive community was founded fifteen years ago.
We asked how much Jewish history the community knows and found that they know very little, and that the Holocaust is barely taught in public school. Certainly the Jews here are more aware of Holocaust history than are their non-Jewish counterparts, but that knowledge seems limited, and knowledge of Jewish history outside of the Holocaust is all but nonexistent.
Daniel and Mattvey talked at length about whether one needs to follow commandments to be a Jew. Mattvey argued against the Chabad model and Daniel mostly agreed with him that Jew should not feel obliged to follow all of the commandments in order to consider themselves Jewish. Moreover, he encouraged Matvey not to think of himself as practicing Judaism as defined by Orthodoxy incorrectly, but instead to think of himself as practicing progressive Judaism correctly.
We asked Mattvey if he wants to stay in Lipetsk or move away and he said he wants to stay – he can have a good job and a good life here. He told us that people are always thinking that life is bad in Lipetsk and would be better in Israel but Mattvey thinks that life here is good - he feels connected to the Jewish community here and has economic opportunities as a chef that might not be available to him elsewhere. He also feels connected to Jews around the world because he has family and friends in Israel, France, England, Belarus, and Ukraine. He has done training as a youth group leader and has gone to Jewish camps, so he has connections with Jews throughout Russia and the FSU. But ultimately Lipetsk is his home and where he wants to be.
After lunch we took a bus to a run down office building, and in a small room about the size of the living room in our Jerusalem apartment, we found the home of the progressive community. Apparently they used to be in a larger space but recently downsized because of the economic crisis.
We were visiting for a youth group meeting – about six youth groupers sat round a table and we were to answer their questions about Judaism, American Jewish life, and ourselves. They started by asking about youth group in America, and we answered their questions about its structure and size. Very quickly, though, Olga pushed the conversation toward how these Jews learned that they were Jewish (and when) and what this means for them. The stories were incredible and really beyond my expectations. Several of these teenagers had spent most of their childhoods not knowing that they were Jews. One boy, Zachar, learned that he was Jewish two years ago. His grandmother lives in Israel and when he was growing up his parents told him that his grandmother was in Australia. One day two years ago Zachar’s parents were talking about Israel and Zachar asked why they were talking about this subject. They revealed to him that his grandmother was actually in Israel and that the family was Jewish. He didn’t get involved in the Jewish community right away, but when he learned about MASA, Naaleh, and other such programs he went to Olga to ask her to be a reference for him, so that he can leave Lipetsk for Israel. As he was preparing by learning Hebrew, he realized that the Jews were just normal people and that he liked them, and he became involved with the youth group. Almost everyone in the room had similar stories – they learned that they were Jews recently and got involved in order to go on an Israel program. If it weren’t for these programs they wouldn’t have pursued their Jewish identities at all, but now they are active and learning and leading their lives as Jews. Only one of the students, Katya, had been involved in the Jewish community since she was little. She said that her mother has always had Jewish friends, but she doesn’t think she is really Jewish. She’s been a member of the community since she was seven and it is a major part of her life. When she was little she used to play Jewish songs on the keyboard for the community.
We asked if everyone wants to leave the community and Olga told us that most young people do not want to stay in Russia. I asked if this was sad for the community and she said that the goal of the community is to teach and foster Judaism and as long as the kids stay Jewish she considers it a success wherever they are. Many go to Israel, but a large percent do stay in Russia. The reasons that they want to go to Israel became progressively more clear to us as the conversation wore on. The Lipetsk economy is not good, and Israel offers a way out. Also the education in Israel is better. We gave them opportunities to ask us questions and Zachar asked Daniel how long he had been in Israel. “Did you serve in the US army then?” he asked. Mattvey explained to Zachar trhat in the US military service is not required and Zachar explained to us that many boys try to get to Israel because the conditions in the Israeli are much better than the Russian army, so they escape the Russian army and go into the Israeli one. We learned that Russian young men are drafted into the Russian army which has extreme hazing practices including beating, rapes, and death. Insufficient supplies, poor pay, and absence of proper training are only a few of the problems that make the Russian army such a terrifying possibility for Zachar and boys like him. Many young Russians escape from the draft through bribery and influence. They go to college to postpone the draft and after college they run away or pay money so they won’t have to go. Those who do go to the army are already disadvantaged – they don’t have the money for bribery. So it’s easy to understand why making aliyah seems like an attractive option.
Daniel asked what the students like about being Jewish and they said it has to do with the sense of community. People here would do anything for each other and are a family. They also said that being Jewish is interesting. Russians are very invested in conformity, but in the Jewish community it is possible to ask questions, talk about interesting and unusual subjects and learn new things. This makes Jews more interesting to these youths than are other people.
The youth group meeting was a surprising and really incredible conversation in which we began to understand what being Jewish means here. We later learned that other groups did not face similar stories of people discovering their Jewishness and wanting to make aliyah, and these stories might be more prevalent in Lipetsk than elsewhere – it’s hard to tell. Olga learned that she was Jewish fifteen years ago, and knew nothing about what that meant. She founded the Jewish community originally just so that Jewish people could meet each other and see other Jews. But the community came to realize that nothing would really happen for them if they couldn’t teach the children. Then Olga began to study Judaism. She has a degree in social work, but her office is lined with other certificates as well. She graduated from the Melton Institute of Jewish Education at Hebrew University, took part in a JCC leadership training institute in Vilna, wrote two award winning programs for her community, and much more. Single-handedly she teaches whoever wants to know what it means to be Jewish and sends the young people on Israel trips so that they can learn more. She is strong and even a bit bossy but is also incredibly talented and knowledgeable – she is a guitar player and songwriter, she is a leader of prayer, a teacher, and administrator, and a fundraiser. And she is a much loved matriarch who has built the community all by herself.
The kids thanked us warmly for our visit but I don’t think they learned nearly as much from us as we did from them – I will be thinking long and hard about them and what it means for them to be Jewish in Lipetsk.
After the youth group meeting, we had a few minutes to prepare a bit for Kabbalat Shabbat services. In the meantime, community members started coming in casually, bearing bowls of food, looking at pictures from Pesach on Olga’s older-looking computer, talking, and laughing. They pushed the tables to the side and set up rows of chairs facing an ark in which a Torah, donated by a congregation in Brooklyn, NY, rests.
Daniel, Emma, and I sat in front and before we began the service we introduced ourselves in more detail than the previous evening and everyone asked a lot of questions – how long are we in Israel, where are we from, what do we do, etc. They were interested that I study Yiddish alongside English literature at university as those things seemed drastically different to them. They asked if my family speaks Hebrew or Yiddish and where I learned the languages.
We began the service. Olga usually leads the services each week and so they know some but not all of the tunes and prayers but they were eager to participate and to sing along where they could. I led most of the music, and Daniel gave a short drash (translated by Emma) about the Torah portion and the congregation listened carefully, nodding their heads to confirm their understanding. After services, as we folded our talitot, the congregation pulled out the tables and chairs and laid the table with food they had brought – salads, fish, vegetables, a latke-like patty made out of matzoh, etc. We sat down to partake of the feast.
We sat at one end of the table and Olga sat at the head. Across the table she called to Emma “What do they do on Shabbat? Do they have food at synagogue?” and the conversation proceeded – questions from Olga and our responses, with comments from around the table and frequent urges for Emma to take a rest and eat and let another English speaker translate a bit. The conversation quickly moved from questions about our Shabbat to questions about our families – are our brothers and sisters all Jewish? Are they Chabad or Reform? This led into a heated conversation about Chabad, which is constantly insulting the community and challenging their sense of authenticity. Olga often hears complaints about Chabad from her community members but she tries to smooth things over because she wants the Jewish community to be able to present a united front. It’s hard enough to be Jewish in Lipetsk without internal problems – Russians do not like people who are different. Chabad has official relationshops with the government, has a whole beautiful building, but not enough congregants to fill it, and everyone we spoke to seems to feel that the community would be better off with no rabbi than with a Chabad rabbi who competes for their members. Of course we did not speak with any members of the Chabad synagogue, who I’m sure have a different opinion. Nevertheless, it is clear that Chabad is imposing its own views about Judaism on a community that is uncomfortable with them.
We paused our conversation a bit in order to do some singing – in Russian with Olga playing the guitar. They sang a song about Jewish eyes which are filled with tears of joy and sadness – you know Jews anywhere because of their eyes. We heard a song about the “rights of Jewish women” which was called “I will marry Jewish.” In it the women say that it is better to find a Jewish man because he will treat them well –he won’t spend his money and time on alcohol, if he is out late it is because he is working, etc. I’m not sure how well a song like this about Jewish superiority would go over in the US but in a country where “Jew” is still somewhat of a slur, I could see why promoting positive self image is so important.
After singing we again became the focus of conversation. They asked us how we were chosen to go to Russia and we explained a bit about the FSU project and how we are a part of a larger group sent throughout the FSU and had requested to go to Russia because Daniel’s family is originally from there. They asked a question about how we were able to pay for the trip during the financial crisis and as Katya translated she said that everyone is always thinking about and worrying about the crisis. I explained our fundraising activity and they seemed please that our communities were so willing to send us to the FSU and to think that it was a worthy project. As the evening wore on, the conversation drifted to Yiddish. They told me that here only a few older people know Yiddish and the language is dying out. They are very sorry that the young people don’t know any Yiddish and the older people have no one to talk to. Not only did they want to talk about my chosen profession, they seemed especially eager to talk to Daniel in his Rabbinical role. People asked him questions as a rabbinical authority – one woman asked when she should commemorate yartzheit for her grandfather who passed away in the Holocaust – she doesn’t know where or when. Someone else had questions about brit milah. Daniel answered all of these questions adeptly and patiently. I took on a cantorial role, I suppose, in that they asked me to sing some songs for them. I sang a few songs in Yiddish that were easy to learn and these seemed to be appreciated and enjoyed. One congregant told me that I should become a professional singer. In fact, the community veritably flooded us with compliments though they insisted that these were not compliments but truths. They told us that we were the first rabbinical students who they felt really communicated why they had come. They appreciated our enthusiasm and they said that they believe that Daniel is a very special, wise person who will be a natural fit as a rabbi. They told us we should consider ourselves to be part of their community – honorary members who are always welcome to return, and gave us a gift of postcards of Liptesk that we can take back with us.
Soon it was time to leave and we hugged and kissed everyone and tore ourselves away from our new friends in order to pack our bags and catch the train to Moscow. In the hotel as we were packing, Daniel and I discussed that we were able to be so successful because of Emma, who made it possible for us to understand and communicate so fluidly.
On the train we stayed up late, playing cards and joking with Emma.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
FSU Journal Day 5
Day 5
The train ride was much more pleasant this time, as it was just the three of us and we knew what to expect. We stayed up late playing cards and munching on matzah and cheese. It was past midnight when we settled down and went to bed. I woke up early in the morning to see out the window rows and rows of dimly lit trees hovering majestically over the snow-dusted ground. I watched the scenery go by for a while – a cluster of large, high-ceilinged homes near agricultural fields, and then trees and trees and trees. Finally, I allowed myself to go back to sleep, waking up a few hours later to the music that signifies the ten-minute warning to arrival. We hastily put on our shoes, threw our playing cards and matzah into our backpacks and left the train.
We went straight to the hotel to freshen up a bit and from there to the center for progressive Judaism for Shabbat morning services. On the shared van on the way to the progressive Judaism center, Emma asked Daniel where Passover comes from – whether he thinks the historic roots are economic, cultural, political, etc. Daniel gave her a learned answer (he’s getting very rabbinical these days) and a conversation proceeded about different fasts in different religions and about the symbols that different religions use to remind them of core ideas or beliefs. Without objects, it’s hard to imagine what a religion would be. We talked about the prohibition on graven images and why this might have existed – does seeing a picture of G-d so influence the way we think about G-d that it is hard to imagine G-d any other way than according to the depictions? And is this a bad thing? Emma said that it seemed to her that Christians have more objects and symbols than Jews – they have different kinds of fasts that seem to happen more often, they have icons, pussy willows (what Russians use instead of palms for Palm Sunday), crosses, etc. We reminded her of all the objects, ritual and otherwise, that Jews do have, and how they are used to remind us of Judaism’s ideals, but are also in and of themselves powerful because they create the boundaries between holiday and not-holiday. We know it is Passover because there is matzah and a seder plate- if there was no matzah or seder plate but on one day everyone thought about freedom , would it still be Passover? Anyway, it was an interesting conversation and I mostly made note of it because I thought it was interesting to hear people “ask the rabbi” questions about Judaism and religion and to see how well Daniel responded to the responsibility of being the question-answerer.
Services at the progressive Judaism center were quite nice. About 30 people were in the congregation, but we are told that the number is often much higher and people are probably just a little Jew-ed out after their Passover seders. The progressive community in Moscow boasts two rabbis, Sasha and Leonid, and a cantor. This is particularly impressive as there are only six progressive rabbis serving the whole Former Soviet Union area. The congregation itself is quite knowledgeable – one congregant read the Torah, another did the blessings, and all the Machon students were in the congregation as well. The rabbis called me and Daniel up to the Torah for aliyot, which was very nice. The tunes were familiar and aside from the drash in Russian, it was not unlike attending a Reform service in Israel or the US.
After services were over, we went to the oneg hall, where they served different kinds of fish, caviar, matzah, wine, cheese, and dried fruit. We had a little snack and while we were eating several congregants introduced themselves to us. Some spoke a little Hebrew to us, others spoke English. One man in particular had quite good English and we asked him questions about what Jewish life was like during the Soviet Union. He told us that he always knew that he was Jewish but he never knew what it meant to be Jewish, that is until recently. Our conversation was cut a bit short because he had to run off to the Hebrew class that Leonid was teaching, so Daniel and I went up to the Rabbis’ offices to check our e-mail and rest a bit before our next activity.
Emma, who had gone home for the morning, came to the office to join us and we sat in the kitchen with her to have a cup of tea. People kept coming in and out, chatting with us and preparing for various activities. That night they were hosting a deaf seder with an expected turnout of something like thirty deaf Jews, and that afternoon there was to be a youth group Havdalah service. Leonid and a youth group student came to join us as we joked around. We learned a bit about Emma’s curriculum. For the first year of translation school her major assignments involve memorizing passages from her textbook and reciting them – her marks are based largely on pronunciation. We spent a lot of time making fun of the passages she has to recite – “oh I think it is going to rain, let me fetch my umbrella. I’m glad I remembered to wear my mackintosh today.”
Eventually we left the office to go to the Red Square and visit the State Historical Museum. The museum was opened in 1894 by Tsar Alexander III and its lavish decorations include a ceiling paiting depicting a family tree of the Russian monarchs from Olga of Kiev (890-969) to Alexander III (1845-1894). It charts the history of Russia from ancient tribal beginnings through to the Romanov tsars of the 19th century. All of the exhibits were written in Russian, but Emma guided us through much of it and from whatever knowledge we had of Russian history we were able to decipher some of the rest. I was certainly impressed not only here but throughout Russia at the centrality of Peter the Great in the retelling of Russian History. He seems to be the watershed marker between traditional and European Russia.
When we left the museum we intended to go into St. Basils Cathedral, but found that we were too late. Instead we visited the Kazan Cathedral, and went inside during a service. Inside, the church was filled with people holding pussy willows to be blessed for Palm Sunday. The choir sang solemn hymns as we wandered around the building, glancing at women with their heads covered by scarves lighting candles at the altars of saints. At one point, Emma motioned to us that we should stand against the wall, and several priests walked by in a procession, burning incense as they walked. The Kazan Cathedral was originally erected as a shrine in the early 1630’s to mark the city’s liberation from the Poles during the Time of Troubles. It was destroyed by a fire in 1632 and the Tsar ordered the church to be rebuilt with brick. The church was renovated many times until it is now not known how the church originally appeared. In 1936, when the government was preparing the Red Square as a site for military parades, Stalin ordered that all churches in the Red Square should be destroyed, and the cathedral was demolished. After the fall of the Soviet Union, the Kazan Cathedral was the first church to be completely rebuild after having been destroyed by the Communists. The restoration was completed in 1993, and now church services are conducted in the cathedral regularly.
We went to dinner in a coffee shop and eventually we were met by the progressive Jewish youth group with whom we were going to do Havdalah. We sat and chatted while waiting for the sun to set, and then we took to the streets. The youth group has a program once a month in which they bring students to different landmarks of the Jewish history of Moscow, explain the significance of the place, and then have Havdalah. This week, they went to the place where the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee held their first rally. There, we read a plaque that told of the committee in Russian, and in Yiddish said the word “gedenk” which means “remember.” The Jewish Antifascist Committee was a Soviet Jewish Organization that operated from 1942 to 1948. Its goal was to call on the Jews of the world, and in particular on American Jewry, to join the struggle against Nazi Germany by supporting Soviet war efforts. The committee was also one of the first institutions to document the atrocities of the Holocaust. It was chaired by Solomon Mikhoels, the popular actopr and director of the Moscow Jewish State Theater. The committee was also considered to be the central representative body of the Jews in the Soviet Union. It had its own newspaper in Yiddish, Eynikeyt (Unity) in which some of the most popular Yiddish writers published. It was dissolved by the Soviet authorities in November 1948 and most of its leaders were executed.
After hearing this sobering story, we walked across the street to a park featuring a giant statue of Freidrich Engels, and stood in a circle for Havdalah. The tune, written by Debbie Friedman, reminded me of how small the world really is. At the end of the Havdalah service, everyone dipped their pinkies into the wine cup and dabbed the wine on their temples. Daniel and I asked Emma what was going on and she was very surprised that we didn’t know. She said it’s a superstition that the wine will grant you luck wherever you place it – if you put it on your temples it will make you smart, if you touch your chest it will bring you much love, if you touch your lips it will make you eloquent, etc. I don’t know where this comes from, but I kind of like it – maybe we should bring it to NFTY or something.
After Havdalah, Emma’s friend invited us back to his apartment for some tea. In all there were seven of us: Emma and her friend, me and Daniel, Leonid and two youth group kids. The friend’s apartment was beautiful – an old building with a painting on the ceiling of the foyer. His dad is a sculptor, and there were photographs of his sculptures on the wall (he does big public monuments). The friend (whose name I don’t remember, sorry) is a very talented photographer, and his art was hanging on the walls as well – they were really terrific. He is now attending an art school, but is thinking about leaving to go into audio production for theater.
Our conversation at the friend’s apartment began with Emma asking me to recount a brief history of Yiddish for her. I thought it was fun that she addressed me with a Yiddish-professor-to-be question, just like she addressed Daniel with rabbi-to-be questions. I explained a bit about the history of Yiddish and she asked whether one might say that Yiddish was more a dialect than a language. This led to a long discussion about the boundaries between dialects and languages: is AAVE a dialect or a language? How about Ukranian? We talked about how people who speak dialects are seen as speaking their language incorrectly, whereas people speaking other languages are seen as speaking their own language correctly – so language is a title of respect. This was a very interesting conversation and everyone was involved in it, commenting on different dialects they know and how different they are from Russian, or how similar, and how people respond to accents that deviate from the normative Moscow Russian. The conversation about language and about Yiddish went on for some time, before we moved to another topic – we asked the students to tell us a bit about how history is thought about in Russia – how do people remember the USSR? They told us that many people are nostalgic for the USSR and hope that it will come back. If you were not a dissident, the USSR promised security that people no longer feel. Also, people tend to remember the good things about the past and forget the bad, which leads them to yearn for a past that was not as perfect as they remember. Obviously Jewish life was not better under the USSR, but apparently some things were better, and we cannot discount that under the USSR there were some stellar accomplishments, and that in contrast to the Russian Empire, the people felt more empowered and in control. Emma’s friend quoted Putin to us, saying, “If you don’t want the USSR to come back, you have no heart, but if you do want the USSR to come back, you have no mind.” People wanting the USSR to come back can also be a problem because many people blame its collapse on the Jews. The government encourages teachers in school not to paint the Soviet Union as something good that they want to return to, and in order to make the USSR seem ‘bad’ they must make the Russian Empire seem, by way of contrast ‘good’ – which causes some problems too. What I found most interesting about this conversation is not only does Russia have no history of democracy, but they aren’t really practicing it today. They have a very low voter turn out and most people just assume that Putin will be their leader and want it that way, as he is seen as strong – one could go as far as to say that they are electing a dictator. A few days later, Jordan asked us if we felt, while we were in Russia, as though the Cold War was still going in – between the visas we needed to get there and the streets named after Lenin, there was something very Cold War-ish about the experience. I am reminded of history classes when we were urged to consider that when historians break time into chunks in order to study it – be it decades or centuries or the reign of a king – the differences between these blocks of time did not emerge suddenly on New Year’s eve of the next time block, but evolved. Maybe Russia is still moving into its next stage, just like 1980’s fashions lingered regrettably long into the 90’s. (OK a bad analogy but you see my point)
Emma asked us whether our experiences in Russia matched our expectations. She told us that she had met another group of Americans, from Atlanta GA, who had unrealistic expectations about Russia and were very surprised. They expected that Russia was very rural and were anticipating seeing bears walking on the streets of Moscow. They thought Russians drink all the time and don’t have access to modern amenities. We told Emma that our experiences weren’t far from our expectations, but we also told her that, not unlike a trip to Israel, we had come to Eastern Europe with the hope and expectation that we would feel some kind of personal connection to the land of our ancestors. And maybe we did, actually, feel that connection. Emma thought this was strange as we aren’t Russian speakers, my family did not come from Russia proper (to the best of my knowledge), and even if our family had come from Moscow itself it would have been generations and generations ago. It didn’t even occur to her that we might have been feeling this nostalgic connection to a Jewish homeland here in Russia, and to me her not thinking about it is as interesting as our thinking about it.
In any case, after tea at the friend’s house we returned to the hotel to sleep in real beds for the night.
The train ride was much more pleasant this time, as it was just the three of us and we knew what to expect. We stayed up late playing cards and munching on matzah and cheese. It was past midnight when we settled down and went to bed. I woke up early in the morning to see out the window rows and rows of dimly lit trees hovering majestically over the snow-dusted ground. I watched the scenery go by for a while – a cluster of large, high-ceilinged homes near agricultural fields, and then trees and trees and trees. Finally, I allowed myself to go back to sleep, waking up a few hours later to the music that signifies the ten-minute warning to arrival. We hastily put on our shoes, threw our playing cards and matzah into our backpacks and left the train.
We went straight to the hotel to freshen up a bit and from there to the center for progressive Judaism for Shabbat morning services. On the shared van on the way to the progressive Judaism center, Emma asked Daniel where Passover comes from – whether he thinks the historic roots are economic, cultural, political, etc. Daniel gave her a learned answer (he’s getting very rabbinical these days) and a conversation proceeded about different fasts in different religions and about the symbols that different religions use to remind them of core ideas or beliefs. Without objects, it’s hard to imagine what a religion would be. We talked about the prohibition on graven images and why this might have existed – does seeing a picture of G-d so influence the way we think about G-d that it is hard to imagine G-d any other way than according to the depictions? And is this a bad thing? Emma said that it seemed to her that Christians have more objects and symbols than Jews – they have different kinds of fasts that seem to happen more often, they have icons, pussy willows (what Russians use instead of palms for Palm Sunday), crosses, etc. We reminded her of all the objects, ritual and otherwise, that Jews do have, and how they are used to remind us of Judaism’s ideals, but are also in and of themselves powerful because they create the boundaries between holiday and not-holiday. We know it is Passover because there is matzah and a seder plate- if there was no matzah or seder plate but on one day everyone thought about freedom , would it still be Passover? Anyway, it was an interesting conversation and I mostly made note of it because I thought it was interesting to hear people “ask the rabbi” questions about Judaism and religion and to see how well Daniel responded to the responsibility of being the question-answerer.
Services at the progressive Judaism center were quite nice. About 30 people were in the congregation, but we are told that the number is often much higher and people are probably just a little Jew-ed out after their Passover seders. The progressive community in Moscow boasts two rabbis, Sasha and Leonid, and a cantor. This is particularly impressive as there are only six progressive rabbis serving the whole Former Soviet Union area. The congregation itself is quite knowledgeable – one congregant read the Torah, another did the blessings, and all the Machon students were in the congregation as well. The rabbis called me and Daniel up to the Torah for aliyot, which was very nice. The tunes were familiar and aside from the drash in Russian, it was not unlike attending a Reform service in Israel or the US.
After services were over, we went to the oneg hall, where they served different kinds of fish, caviar, matzah, wine, cheese, and dried fruit. We had a little snack and while we were eating several congregants introduced themselves to us. Some spoke a little Hebrew to us, others spoke English. One man in particular had quite good English and we asked him questions about what Jewish life was like during the Soviet Union. He told us that he always knew that he was Jewish but he never knew what it meant to be Jewish, that is until recently. Our conversation was cut a bit short because he had to run off to the Hebrew class that Leonid was teaching, so Daniel and I went up to the Rabbis’ offices to check our e-mail and rest a bit before our next activity.
Emma, who had gone home for the morning, came to the office to join us and we sat in the kitchen with her to have a cup of tea. People kept coming in and out, chatting with us and preparing for various activities. That night they were hosting a deaf seder with an expected turnout of something like thirty deaf Jews, and that afternoon there was to be a youth group Havdalah service. Leonid and a youth group student came to join us as we joked around. We learned a bit about Emma’s curriculum. For the first year of translation school her major assignments involve memorizing passages from her textbook and reciting them – her marks are based largely on pronunciation. We spent a lot of time making fun of the passages she has to recite – “oh I think it is going to rain, let me fetch my umbrella. I’m glad I remembered to wear my mackintosh today.”
Eventually we left the office to go to the Red Square and visit the State Historical Museum. The museum was opened in 1894 by Tsar Alexander III and its lavish decorations include a ceiling paiting depicting a family tree of the Russian monarchs from Olga of Kiev (890-969) to Alexander III (1845-1894). It charts the history of Russia from ancient tribal beginnings through to the Romanov tsars of the 19th century. All of the exhibits were written in Russian, but Emma guided us through much of it and from whatever knowledge we had of Russian history we were able to decipher some of the rest. I was certainly impressed not only here but throughout Russia at the centrality of Peter the Great in the retelling of Russian History. He seems to be the watershed marker between traditional and European Russia.
When we left the museum we intended to go into St. Basils Cathedral, but found that we were too late. Instead we visited the Kazan Cathedral, and went inside during a service. Inside, the church was filled with people holding pussy willows to be blessed for Palm Sunday. The choir sang solemn hymns as we wandered around the building, glancing at women with their heads covered by scarves lighting candles at the altars of saints. At one point, Emma motioned to us that we should stand against the wall, and several priests walked by in a procession, burning incense as they walked. The Kazan Cathedral was originally erected as a shrine in the early 1630’s to mark the city’s liberation from the Poles during the Time of Troubles. It was destroyed by a fire in 1632 and the Tsar ordered the church to be rebuilt with brick. The church was renovated many times until it is now not known how the church originally appeared. In 1936, when the government was preparing the Red Square as a site for military parades, Stalin ordered that all churches in the Red Square should be destroyed, and the cathedral was demolished. After the fall of the Soviet Union, the Kazan Cathedral was the first church to be completely rebuild after having been destroyed by the Communists. The restoration was completed in 1993, and now church services are conducted in the cathedral regularly.
We went to dinner in a coffee shop and eventually we were met by the progressive Jewish youth group with whom we were going to do Havdalah. We sat and chatted while waiting for the sun to set, and then we took to the streets. The youth group has a program once a month in which they bring students to different landmarks of the Jewish history of Moscow, explain the significance of the place, and then have Havdalah. This week, they went to the place where the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee held their first rally. There, we read a plaque that told of the committee in Russian, and in Yiddish said the word “gedenk” which means “remember.” The Jewish Antifascist Committee was a Soviet Jewish Organization that operated from 1942 to 1948. Its goal was to call on the Jews of the world, and in particular on American Jewry, to join the struggle against Nazi Germany by supporting Soviet war efforts. The committee was also one of the first institutions to document the atrocities of the Holocaust. It was chaired by Solomon Mikhoels, the popular actopr and director of the Moscow Jewish State Theater. The committee was also considered to be the central representative body of the Jews in the Soviet Union. It had its own newspaper in Yiddish, Eynikeyt (Unity) in which some of the most popular Yiddish writers published. It was dissolved by the Soviet authorities in November 1948 and most of its leaders were executed.
After hearing this sobering story, we walked across the street to a park featuring a giant statue of Freidrich Engels, and stood in a circle for Havdalah. The tune, written by Debbie Friedman, reminded me of how small the world really is. At the end of the Havdalah service, everyone dipped their pinkies into the wine cup and dabbed the wine on their temples. Daniel and I asked Emma what was going on and she was very surprised that we didn’t know. She said it’s a superstition that the wine will grant you luck wherever you place it – if you put it on your temples it will make you smart, if you touch your chest it will bring you much love, if you touch your lips it will make you eloquent, etc. I don’t know where this comes from, but I kind of like it – maybe we should bring it to NFTY or something.
After Havdalah, Emma’s friend invited us back to his apartment for some tea. In all there were seven of us: Emma and her friend, me and Daniel, Leonid and two youth group kids. The friend’s apartment was beautiful – an old building with a painting on the ceiling of the foyer. His dad is a sculptor, and there were photographs of his sculptures on the wall (he does big public monuments). The friend (whose name I don’t remember, sorry) is a very talented photographer, and his art was hanging on the walls as well – they were really terrific. He is now attending an art school, but is thinking about leaving to go into audio production for theater.
Our conversation at the friend’s apartment began with Emma asking me to recount a brief history of Yiddish for her. I thought it was fun that she addressed me with a Yiddish-professor-to-be question, just like she addressed Daniel with rabbi-to-be questions. I explained a bit about the history of Yiddish and she asked whether one might say that Yiddish was more a dialect than a language. This led to a long discussion about the boundaries between dialects and languages: is AAVE a dialect or a language? How about Ukranian? We talked about how people who speak dialects are seen as speaking their language incorrectly, whereas people speaking other languages are seen as speaking their own language correctly – so language is a title of respect. This was a very interesting conversation and everyone was involved in it, commenting on different dialects they know and how different they are from Russian, or how similar, and how people respond to accents that deviate from the normative Moscow Russian. The conversation about language and about Yiddish went on for some time, before we moved to another topic – we asked the students to tell us a bit about how history is thought about in Russia – how do people remember the USSR? They told us that many people are nostalgic for the USSR and hope that it will come back. If you were not a dissident, the USSR promised security that people no longer feel. Also, people tend to remember the good things about the past and forget the bad, which leads them to yearn for a past that was not as perfect as they remember. Obviously Jewish life was not better under the USSR, but apparently some things were better, and we cannot discount that under the USSR there were some stellar accomplishments, and that in contrast to the Russian Empire, the people felt more empowered and in control. Emma’s friend quoted Putin to us, saying, “If you don’t want the USSR to come back, you have no heart, but if you do want the USSR to come back, you have no mind.” People wanting the USSR to come back can also be a problem because many people blame its collapse on the Jews. The government encourages teachers in school not to paint the Soviet Union as something good that they want to return to, and in order to make the USSR seem ‘bad’ they must make the Russian Empire seem, by way of contrast ‘good’ – which causes some problems too. What I found most interesting about this conversation is not only does Russia have no history of democracy, but they aren’t really practicing it today. They have a very low voter turn out and most people just assume that Putin will be their leader and want it that way, as he is seen as strong – one could go as far as to say that they are electing a dictator. A few days later, Jordan asked us if we felt, while we were in Russia, as though the Cold War was still going in – between the visas we needed to get there and the streets named after Lenin, there was something very Cold War-ish about the experience. I am reminded of history classes when we were urged to consider that when historians break time into chunks in order to study it – be it decades or centuries or the reign of a king – the differences between these blocks of time did not emerge suddenly on New Year’s eve of the next time block, but evolved. Maybe Russia is still moving into its next stage, just like 1980’s fashions lingered regrettably long into the 90’s. (OK a bad analogy but you see my point)
Emma asked us whether our experiences in Russia matched our expectations. She told us that she had met another group of Americans, from Atlanta GA, who had unrealistic expectations about Russia and were very surprised. They expected that Russia was very rural and were anticipating seeing bears walking on the streets of Moscow. They thought Russians drink all the time and don’t have access to modern amenities. We told Emma that our experiences weren’t far from our expectations, but we also told her that, not unlike a trip to Israel, we had come to Eastern Europe with the hope and expectation that we would feel some kind of personal connection to the land of our ancestors. And maybe we did, actually, feel that connection. Emma thought this was strange as we aren’t Russian speakers, my family did not come from Russia proper (to the best of my knowledge), and even if our family had come from Moscow itself it would have been generations and generations ago. It didn’t even occur to her that we might have been feeling this nostalgic connection to a Jewish homeland here in Russia, and to me her not thinking about it is as interesting as our thinking about it.
In any case, after tea at the friend’s house we returned to the hotel to sleep in real beds for the night.
FSU Journal Day 6
Day 6
After a quick breakfast, Daniel and I met Emma in the lobby of the hotel in order to go to the market and look for some interesting Russian souvenirs. The first area we came to was reminiscent of the Israeli shuk or an American flea market – stalls of clothes and household goods, people calling out to us to convince us to look at their wares, etc. The clothing that they were selling was all very Russian in the sense that it was much more fashionable-looking than you might find, say, in the US.
When we came to the end of this area, we paid a small admission price to enter the souvenir and antique parts of the market. Emma assured us that the souvenirs are of good quality and are far cheaper here than at the tourist attractions. Stall after stall sold Gzhel ceramics (a folk art produced in the village of Gzhel since 1802 – it is white with blue designs), metryoshka dolls (Russian nesting dolls – the wooden dolls that open up to reveal other little dolls inside), lacquer boxes depicting famous Russian sites or fairy tales, fur hats, birchbark decorative crafts, wooden toys, plates painted with Russian designs, porcelain dolls, and decorative eggs. We strolled past all of these gifts, calculating how many rubles we had and translating the prices to dollars (about 33 rubles to one dollar). Emma negotiated for us as we purchased a little plate, an egg, a box, and some dolls.
Afterwards, we went for a stroll in the antique segment of the market. Emma told us that she loves to walk through here because the different accents and kinds of things people discuss here belong to another time – the people play chess and discuss history among the artifacts of a bygone era. We saw samovars, swords, photographs, wall hangings, dishes, paintings, and much more. As we walked through the stalls some shopkeepers offered to explain their items to us even though they could tell that we had no intention of purchasing anything. As we were poking around, Daniel stumbled upon a beautiful silver yad (what one would use to read the Torah) sitting on a table next to a Bible with a painting of Jesus on the cover. We picked up the yad and examined the details – two little chassids danced around the top. We asked the price, but as $200 was outside our souvenir budget, we regretfully put our find back on the table for another traveler to find someday. Later we also found a channukiah perched on a shelf of decorative items. One of our finniest finds was at a coin stand, where a man was selling, among other things, New Israeli Shekels (yes, the currency that Daniel and I use every day). Daniel was thinking that if the price wasn’t too high, we could maybe make some money off of this, and he asked the price, but it was roughly equivalent to the 10 NIS coin that we would have been buying. The guy was selling half shekel coins for the same price as 10 shekel coins, and we thought that was kind of a rip off for whoever was buying… so Daniel offered to sell the guy some shekels, but he said he had enough. Too bad. As we were heading out of the antique area, Daniel stopped to admire some amethysts that an old man was selling, and found himself (along with Emma) trapped in conversation with the man, who told him about the process of polishing the stones, and about the superstitious beliefs about the stones being able to give health and fortune.
While we were in the market, Emma called Anya to see if David and Jordan had made it to the hotel, and we learned that they were milling around the same market as we were. We met them excitedly and swapped some stories with them about our travels in Lipetsk and their trip to the Ural mountains and the Western edge of Siberia.
Several days ago I had mentioned to Emma that I would be interested in seeing the place where the Moscow Yiddish Theater had once performed, and so today our first stop was to be the theater and the synagogue nearby.
When we arrived at the synagogue, two older woman greeted us, saying “Chag Sameach!” We went through a security check and at the other side a traditionally dressed man addressed Daniel, Jordan, and David in Hebrew, asking where they were from and if they would like a tour. Our translators looked on as he spoke to us in Hebrew, telling us the history of the building. It was erected in 1883 by the Jewish railroad baron Shmuel Poliakov – it had once been his home. During that time, public synagogues were not permitted in Moscow, but because Poliakov was so influential, he was allowed to open the synagogue so long as only his family would attend. He had a very small family, but he included on the list of those permitted the names of many of his friends as well. I don’t remember the whole history of the building, but as I understand it, the synagogue was closed during the soviet era and reopened as a chabad house, which is how it currently functions. Around the original building, they have constructed a larger structure with classroom and offices, so that the outside of the original building remains, encased in the later structure. In the sanctuary, the man giving us the tour showed Daniel, David, and Jordan that there is a trap door on the bimah that leads to an exit, so that if there is any trouble, the congregants will be able to escape. This is no idle threat, another Lubavich synagogue in Moscow, the Marina Roscha synagogue, has been subject to fire in 1993, bombings in 1996 and 1998 and a stabbing in 2006. This makes Jewish life seem pretty bleak in Moscow, but the synagogue enjoys a large rate of participation (too large, from the perspective of the progressive Jews we talked to) and seems to be a vibrant, active community. When we left, Anna and Emma were very angry though. They told us that the Chabadnik who had spoken to us had pulled them aside and offered them money in order that they would bring their friends to the synagogue. When they told him that they were Reform and that they didn’t think it was appropriate to pay their friends to participate in Judaism, he told them that he would give them the money and they could give their friends presents for participating instead. They left in a huff and spouted to us their frustrations about Chabad and its manipulative outreach strategies. They told us that they are shocked by this idea of Judaism and proud of their Reform practices.
From the synagogue we walked to the theater where once performed Solomon Mikhoels in the famous avant-garde Moscow Yiddish Theater. There wasn’t much to see there beyond a plaque on the wall, but we spent a few minutes reviewing the history of the place, and you can imagine I was tickled to be doing some Yiddish tourism! In brief, let me answer two questions: 1) What was the Moscow Yiddish Theater? The Moscow State Yiddish Theater (which you can read all about in a terrific book by Benjamin Harshav) was founded in 1919 in Petersberg and moved to the new capital of the Soviet Union, Moscow, a year later. Given what we know about the suppression of Jewishness in the Soviet Union it may come as a surprise that such a thing as a state-sponsored Yiddish theater ever existed, but Stalin’s policies shifted dramatically from his initial encouragement of national/ethnic cultures in ways that were in support of the Soviet project to his later insistence that all Soviet citizens must conform to the same patterns and ideals. The theater was founded by Alexander Granovsky, and as a sophisticated avant-garde theater, it became a symbol of secular Yiddish culture in the USSR and the world over. It performed mythical abstract pieces based in Jewish folklore and folk life. Two of the most famous participants were Mark Chagall, who designed sets and costumes for the productions, and Solomon Mikhoels, a very talented actor and director. The theater closed in 1949 a year after Mikhoels was murdered in a Stalinist purge. 2) Who was Solomon Mikhoels? Solomon Mikhoels was a great and famous actor and director for the Moscow State Yiddish Theater. He was also the chairman of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee, supporting Stalin against the encroaching threat of Nazism. He traveled around the word trying to garner support for the Soviet Union against Nazi Germany. After the war, Stalin became suspicious of Jewish contacts with other Jews outside of the USSR and with Jewish self-expression generally. He closed the Yiddish theater and the Jewish Anti-Fascist committee, eventually executing all but two of its members. Mikhoels was the first to be executed, in January 1948 in Minsk, in a staged car accident. He received a state funeral.
So, we snapped a few photos, and then we headed to lunch. On the way, we picked up a gingerbread cake, which we are told is a terrific Russian treat, and decided that when we returned to Israel we would have a tea party with it to celebrate the end of Passover. Over lunch we talked about David and Jordan’s trip – we learned about the vibrant Jewish communities they met, and the great need that these communities have for more support. They spoke to us of a para-rabbinic leader of a community who really wants to go back to school but feels he cannot leave because there is no one to replace him and the community will fall apart without him. We learned much about tensions with Chabad. But we also learned a lot of positive things about creative and energetic communities, students going to youth programming, multi-generational rich and warm Jewish life. I asked David if people there seemed as keen on leaving Russia as the young people of Lipitsk seemed to be, and he answered that making aliyah was not something that the students there really talked about. I feel somewhat relieved about this – and then I wonder if the relief is appropriate.
After lunch, we met a friend of Emma and Anya’s, Sveta, and together we visited the Kremlin, a fortress that was built on the intersection of three rivers (only two now remain) – the city of Moscow forms rings around the Kremlin itself, which was the original city, dating back as far as 1147. The Moscow Kremlin has long been the center of Russian statehood, where tsars and hierarchs of the Russian Orthodox Church lived. The walls, which were built in 1367-1368 were originally white stone, but were rebuilt in 1485-1495 in red brick by Italian workers (Italians were better architects than Russians) who were all executed upon the completion of the city so that they would not reveal its secrets to foreign powers. At the beginning of the 18th century, Peter I transferred the capital of Russia to St. Petersberg, but the tsars continued to be coronated in Moscow. In 1917 yhr Soviet government transferred the capital back to Moscow, and it remains the center of Russian government to this day. Since 1992 the president of Russia lives inside the Kremlin.
We bought tickets to see the famous cathedrals of the Kremlin, and we walked through church after church with paintings on the wall that read like cartoons of stories of Jesus and of various saints, especially St. George. We saw collections of jewelry and church artifacts. In one of the cathedrals, we saw the tombs of statesmen and church officials, some dating back as far as the fourteenth century.
We noticed that the time was going faster than expected and hurried to St. Basils Cathedral in order to get in before the closing, but to no avail. We were just a few minutes too late and the only attraction we were able to see was the entertainment of Emma arguing with the security guard. Nevertheless it was certainly impressive to catch one last look at the outside of this ornate and unusual building.
In place of a tour of St. Basils we went to a chocolate shop so that Daniel could have one last hot chocolate. We joked and laughed over chocolate flavored tea and coffee, and had a terrific time of it. We worked on perfecting our reading skills, tentatively sounding out words spelled in Cyrillic.
Then we went for a casual walk through Moscow. We passed a Russian bath house and went in for a peek. The walls were ornately decorated, but as we climbed the stairs and saw men sitting in towels, we decided to head back down. Daniel and David continued on and were amazed at what they saw – men lounging in towels and dining together on expensive food and drink. Baths are apparently a Russian institution – nowadays especially among the wealthy.
We walked through an area that used to be quite poor but has been renovated a bit – it is located between a convent and a monastery and no one knows why crime was so rampant in between these institutions. We walked past the KGB buildings and Emma told us that her aunt spent two years in the building followed by three years working in Sibera because she had written a letter to Golda Meir. After she returned from Siberia she continued with her activist work and one day she received ticket to Israel in the mail with the message that she was to leave in 24 hours and could not return.
We had dinner at a sushi restaurant that we stumbled upon on our walk. We spent a long time there laughing and joking, teaching silly American slang to our Russian friends, etc. As it started to get late, we took the metro back to the hotel and bid farewell to Emma. She gave us a small gift on our leaving, and we exchanged e-mail addresses – I hope that we will keep in touch.
We left early in the morning for the airport, where we said goodbye to Anya and flew back to Tel Aviv. We were surprised at how familiar Hebrew seemed after a week in Russia!
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Monday, April 6, 2009
Off to Moscow!!
We leave early early early in the AM for Moscow!
I'll be keeping a journal and I'll try to post it here when I get back. We'll be sure to take a lot of pictures.
In the meantime, you can take a look at our schedule:
13th of April, Monday - Departure to Israel.
I'll be keeping a journal and I'll try to post it here when I get back. We'll be sure to take a lot of pictures.
In the meantime, you can take a look at our schedule:
7th of April, Tuesday
| 10:50 | Arrival to Moscow | ||
| 13:00 | Check-in, Hotel | ||
| 14:00 | Lunch | ||
| 15:00 | Lecture in Machon | ||
| 17:00 | Sightseeing tour | ||
| 19:00 | Dinner | ||
| 20:00 | Private time |
8th of April, Wednesday
| 10:00 | Breakfast in Hotel | ||
| 11:00 | Lecture in Machon | ||
| 14:00 | Lunch | ||
| 15:00 | Privet time | ||
| 17:00 | Preparation for the Seder | ||
| 19:00 | Seder | ||
| 20:30 | Departure to Paveletskiy Train Station | ||
| 21:20 | Departure to Lipetzk | Train № 29, Paveletzkiy Train Station |
9th of April, Thursday
| 07:23 | Arrival to Lipetzk | ||
| 12:00 | Sightseeing walk | ||
| 14:00 | Lunch | ||
| 15:00 | Private time | ||
| 17:00 | Preparation for the Seder | ||
| 19:00 | Seder | ||
| 20:00 | “Socializing” | ||
| 21:00 | Dinner |
10th of April, Friday
| 10:00 | Breakfast in Hotel | ||
| 14:00 | Lunch | ||
| 15:00 | Sightseeing walk | ||
| 17:00 | Meeting with congregants | ||
| 19:00 | Shabbat | ||
| 21:00 | Dinner | ||
| 22:57 | Departure to Moscow | Train 029В |
11th of April, Saturday
| 08:55 | Arrival to Moscow | Paveletzkiy Train Station | |
| 11:00 | Shakharit | ||
| 12:30 | Private time | ||
| 13:20 | Lunch | ||
| 14:30 | Meeting with Netzer Youth group | ||
| 16:00 | Private time | ||
| 17:00 | Netzer project - “Havdalah in Moscow” | ||
| 20:00 | Dinner | ||
| 21:00 | Private time |
12th of April, Sunday
| Free day |
13th of April, Monday - Departure to Israel.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Shira Chadasha
Tonight for services we visited a much-spoken-of shul called Shirah Chadasha. It's run by an Orthodox community who push the bounds of Orthodoxy with regard to gendered restrictions - most notably, women lead the kabbalat Shabbat services.
We met our friends at the front entrance and walked into the building together. When we arrived at the sanctuary Amanda and I went into the women's section and Daniel and Jon into the men's section. Amanda and I were greeted warmly and ushered into seats. All around us were women, some wearing pants but most wearing long skirts and long-sleeved shirts with high necklines. Several of the women were wearing head coverings. The women smiled at one another in greeting, but mostly were otherwise intense in prayer. Unlike in other traditional prayer environments I've experienced, the women were praying audibly, confidently, reading the words and chanting the melodies aloud. Their voices were solid but delicate, and the music of the prayers filled the modest room. The men sat on the other side of the room, on the other side of the mechitza which was a flimsy white chiffon curtain. They seemed like ghosts clouded, obscured, and distant, praying in partnership with the women, like mirror images, like echoes of our words and motions. There was something beautiful in the separation and the sameness, in seeing one another and yet being apart. And the white of the mechitza made the men seem somehow like the Sabbath bride. I found myself feeling strangely attracted to the mechitza, strangely inspired by it, while nevertheless repulsed by the notion of sex-segregated worship.
The music was beautiful. Melody followed melody, each intertwining with improvised harmonies from both sides of the curtain, as though the men and women were reaching accross to one another, defying and celebrating their separation. The beauty of the voices - and they really were quite talented singers -moved me, and though I had come to the services in order to say I had been to this synagogue, in order to experience a new cultural curiosity, and certainly not in order to pray, I found myself praying.
I did not expect to like Shira Chadasha - I was predisposed to think that any place that separates by sex was not a place in which I would comfortably be able to pray, because it is a place that perpetuates social injusitice and inequality. Although my feelings at Shira Chadasha directly contradicted my sense of disapproval of sex-segregated prayer, I am still not convinced that Shira Chadasha is doing enough - often people speak of this synagogue as "so progressive for Orothox", as really unusual, as making great strides. And before I visited I was frustrated with this idea, because they were still separating by sexes, and so they simply weren't doing enough. I felt this way and I still feel this way. And yet...I also really enjoyed services this evening, found them meaningful, perhaps, because of the beauty of coming together through separation, of separating to find one another in sound and voices, because of the eerie, holy sensation of seeing another through a veil, of the transformation of the familiar, of the community created by breaking the whole into halves. And so, I am torn about Shira Chadasha. I disapprove, and I am moved.
We met our friends at the front entrance and walked into the building together. When we arrived at the sanctuary Amanda and I went into the women's section and Daniel and Jon into the men's section. Amanda and I were greeted warmly and ushered into seats. All around us were women, some wearing pants but most wearing long skirts and long-sleeved shirts with high necklines. Several of the women were wearing head coverings. The women smiled at one another in greeting, but mostly were otherwise intense in prayer. Unlike in other traditional prayer environments I've experienced, the women were praying audibly, confidently, reading the words and chanting the melodies aloud. Their voices were solid but delicate, and the music of the prayers filled the modest room. The men sat on the other side of the room, on the other side of the mechitza which was a flimsy white chiffon curtain. They seemed like ghosts clouded, obscured, and distant, praying in partnership with the women, like mirror images, like echoes of our words and motions. There was something beautiful in the separation and the sameness, in seeing one another and yet being apart. And the white of the mechitza made the men seem somehow like the Sabbath bride. I found myself feeling strangely attracted to the mechitza, strangely inspired by it, while nevertheless repulsed by the notion of sex-segregated worship.
The music was beautiful. Melody followed melody, each intertwining with improvised harmonies from both sides of the curtain, as though the men and women were reaching accross to one another, defying and celebrating their separation. The beauty of the voices - and they really were quite talented singers -moved me, and though I had come to the services in order to say I had been to this synagogue, in order to experience a new cultural curiosity, and certainly not in order to pray, I found myself praying.
I did not expect to like Shira Chadasha - I was predisposed to think that any place that separates by sex was not a place in which I would comfortably be able to pray, because it is a place that perpetuates social injusitice and inequality. Although my feelings at Shira Chadasha directly contradicted my sense of disapproval of sex-segregated prayer, I am still not convinced that Shira Chadasha is doing enough - often people speak of this synagogue as "so progressive for Orothox", as really unusual, as making great strides. And before I visited I was frustrated with this idea, because they were still separating by sexes, and so they simply weren't doing enough. I felt this way and I still feel this way. And yet...I also really enjoyed services this evening, found them meaningful, perhaps, because of the beauty of coming together through separation, of separating to find one another in sound and voices, because of the eerie, holy sensation of seeing another through a veil, of the transformation of the familiar, of the community created by breaking the whole into halves. And so, I am torn about Shira Chadasha. I disapprove, and I am moved.
Friday, April 3, 2009
1776 - or 1948
Last night Daniel and I went with a group of HUC students to see a production of 1776 by a Jerusalem English-speaking amateur theater company. The production was pretty decent for community theater and of course the HUC cantors who took part in it were terrific, but one of the most interesting moments of the whole show happened at the very end, after the bows and the applause, when John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamen Franklin, and a host of others stood lined up on the stage and the director stepped forward to address the audience. She explained that while 1776 is a story about America, the sacrifices made in the name of democracy and freedom are close to the hearts of us all because of the sacrifices made in the establishment of our own country, Israel. She recognized an audience member who had been an Israeli spy in Lebanon and had been improsoned for years as a result of her work. Then, a tearful John Adams continued in making the connections betwene the pursuit of liberty in colonial America and Jews in Israel fighting for their own land and an escape to anti-Semitism. He asked the audience to rise, and a group of people with American accents were led by English-speakers in American colonial garb in the singing of HaTikvah. The sentimental nationalism was a bit much for me, but afterwards, several of us exclaimed about that moment and how we'd like to write term papers on American Jewish Israeli immigrant identity - how they expressed their American-ness as Jews living in Israel, and how they expressed their Jewishness and Israeliness through and by connecting it to American mythology surrounding the founding fathers. It was all very... interesting.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The Bread of Affliction and other Yucky Pesach Things
The kids at the preschool are finally starting to understand that my Hebrew isn't so great, even as I'm feeling more confident with Hebrew (yesterday I gave a presentation in Hebrew class that I was very proud of and am still patting myself on the back for it...) Today one of the kids corrected my Hebrew several times and seemed to get a big kick out of it, while another said to me, "Jessica, my dad taught me a song for you!" and proceeded to sing "In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight" with a thick Israeli accent. He is three years old. It was adorable. Today in preschool we also played a riveting game of "do we eat it on Passover" the results: matzah -yes, because it is matzah. hard boiled egg - yes because a long time ago when the Israelis were slaves in Egypt pharaoh made them work hard - hard work is represented by hard boiled eggs because they both have the word hard. pizza - no because it has flour, honey - no because it is sweet and we are only supposed to eat yucky things, marror - yes because it tastes bad.
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