Our Guest tells us about the services they received
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B"H
| Written: Day 20 + 3, Friday, April 21, 2006 10:35 AM Davis, California, U.S.A. Thursday morning we took a tour of Jewish Buenos Aires. Argentina has the largest Jewish population in South America, due partly to a rich European baron who set up a Jewish colony there and partly to relatively welcoming immigration policies. The country needed immigrants to populate the wide open spaces of Argentina, and they had largely eliminated the native population by means of their genocidal policies. Enter the Jews. The original idea was that the colony, located deep in the interior, would be agricultural. But the Jews, largely prohibited from being farmers in Europe, had no experience with agriculture. The colony mostly failed, and the Jews moved to the cities instead to practice their traditional city-based occupations. There were once about half a million Jewish people in Argentina, but due to a few terrorist attacks and emigration to Israel and other places, the population is now closer to 250,000, perhaps less depending on how you do the numbers. Interestingly given that Argentina was a Spanish colony, most of the Jews here are Ashkenazi, or of western European (excluding Spain) descent. A minority are Sephardic, or of Spanish descent. The two traditions developed in parallel and have some differences in Jewish observance. Our guide, Salito, greeted Lenny and me at our hotel dressed impeccably in a suit. We immediately felt underdressed in out customary jeans and t-shirts. Our first stop was a memorial on the site of the former Israeli embassy. The embassy had been blown up by terrorists, killing many people. The memorial on the site lists each victim by name, and has one tree for each of them. The trees produce leaves that are used as a calmative. It is a subtle call for restraint and calm among the people of the city. We next visited a memorial to the victims of another suicide bombing attack, this time on the Jewish Federation building. I was beginning to think that the history of the Jews in Buenos Aires would be one long tale of bombings and destruction. Almost all of the Jewish buildings in the city have now taken steps to thwart future attacks. They have bollard barriers on their sides that face the street, and some buildings are set back away from the road. Our guide commented that these precautions identified Jewish buildings just as effectively as placing the Star of David on their doors. Next we moved on to the Jewish district, known as Once (pronounced ON-se), and the synagogues. Most of the people on the street were not Jewish, but we also saw many men walk by in traditional Jewish dress or wearing yarmulkes. Most of the businesses were closed since it was the first day of Passover. We first visited the Ashkenazi synagogue. The building has two stories: the main seating area facing the front where the bima, the podium where the rabbi stands, and the cabinet holding the torah scrolls are located, and the balcony where the women traditionally sit separated from the men. It is a beautiful building. Salito, our guide, said that he was bar mitzvahed there. Next, the three of us moved on to the very different Sephardic synagogue. As we entered, the service was just letting out, and there were people everywhere milling around the courtyard. We walked into the sanctuary and immediately noticed several differences from the synagogue we had just visited. We saw that the bima was in the center of the room, not at the end. Also, the stained glass had representations of people, something that is not done in Ashkenazi synagogues. The stained glass on the door showed a depiction of Jacob's dream. It looked more like the decoration for a church than a synagogue! After the tour was over, Lenny and I had several hours before our Passover seder that evening. We had arranged to attend a seder, the ritual meal that commemorates the Jewish people's escape from slavery in Egypt, at the home of the local Chabad rabbi, Rabbi Hirshel Hendel. We had arranged to attend the seder through Jewish Tours. Our original request was to attend a seder in English, but we were told that would be quite difficult. A few days later, however, they emailed back to say that they had found a rabbi from New York who spoke English, and that we could attend the seder at his home. After the tour, however, Lenny and I immediately realized that we had a problem. We wanted to bring a bottle of kosher wine to the rabbi as a thank you gift, but all the Jewish stores that stocked the specialty wine were closed for the holiday. We tried a few regular wine shops, but were met with blank stares when we asked for the kosher wine. In desperation, Lenny knocked at the door of a local synagogue, intent on asking them for help or advice as to how we could get the wine. When Lenny said he was Jewish, the man who answered the door said, "Then you should know we are closed on Passover! Why are you knocking on my door?". After Lenny explained the situation, the man said to try the shops in Once, which we knew to be closed. In the end, we called back Salito, and he arranged to sell us a bottle from his own stock. The wine arrived an hour or so later by taxi. We were saved! Back at our disappointing hotel, Lenny and I prepared for our evening. My shirt and pants were quite wrinkled from being stored in the bottom of my luggage since the trip began. Lenny had to buy a shirt and tie in town, and these also needed ironing. The hotel helpfully provided the iron, but Lenny had to show me how to use it! We arrived at the Chabad House on time at 7:00, and found the door guarded by a formidable looking man. We were asked for our passports and the paper Salito had given us with the address. Then we were admitted. The community here is quite cautious of outsiders after the various attacks. We had to get emails vouching for our character from our rabbis at home before we were allowed to enter any of the synagogues in the city. Upstairs, we were greeted by Rabbi Hendel, who is originally from New York. He is a young man, perhaps in his thirties, and he was wearing the traditional orthodox Jewish attire. He had on a black hat, a long black jacket and black pants. Some of the small group of people assembled there were similarly dressed, but others were wearing regular jackets and ties. The rabbi greeted us and said that he had been waiting for us. We were taken to the small sanctuary - really no more than a room with a few Jewish items and a few rows of chairs. Behind us was a screen. There were maybe ten men - all men - in the room, including us. The rabbi began the evening prayer service. In the Chabad tradition, people mostly do their own thing instead of following the leader of the service. The rabbi gave us English and Hebrew prayer books, and periodically told us what page they were on so that we could participate. Between prayer sessions, he came by to talk with us and to get our life stories. We were joined by a young Australian man, Lance, who, along with his wife, were the only other English speakers present. When the service was over, I noticed for the first time that there were a number of women behind the screen. In the orthodox tradition, men and women are not allowed to pray together in the synagogue. After a few minutes of chatting, the group left the Chabad House and walked over to the rabbi's house for the seder. It was the first time that I had attended an Orthodox service in my life. I felt somewhat out of place. As we entered the rabbi's house, I saw that he had a long table that stretched between the two main public rooms of his house. It seated maybe forty people. The seder was in most ways similar to the ones I was used to, but there were a few differences. Potatoes were used in place of the celery, and there was no matzo ball soup because the Chabad do not believe in mixing matzo and regular food. This extra constraint eliminated many of the workaround that make the bread- free Passover week tolerable! No matzo meal cakes! No matzo balls! It would make the whole week so much harder! Thankfully, Rabbi Hendel translated the seder readings into English for us. The Passover Haggadah, the special book that is used to tell the story of the Exodus at seders, was only in Spanish and Hebrew, so it would have been hard to follow the proceedings otherwise. Each person read from the haggadah in turn, either in Hebrew or Spanish. When my turn came, I struggled through the Spanish, not that I actually understood what I was saying. It was a very enjoyable service. Although I was probably the one who was the least observant in the group, the rabbi never made me feel like I did not belong. I was glad that I had made the effort to attend. And our hard-gotten wine was a hit as well. |
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