Women of the Wall - Rosh Chodesh Adar

As I walked down to the Kotel from the Jewish Quarter this morning, the first thing I noticed was the large amount of men davening on the men's side--so much larger than the group there last time (see my post). There were more women, too, but what I noticed was the men--I suppose I saw them as more of a threat, and there were so many more of them. I know it's probably because it wasn't raining cats and dogs this time, unlike in December, but as I walked down the steps I got a bit nervous. More people means more chance of trouble, and there were a large number of police cars in the parking lot, too.

I got there early, so I went up to the Kotel for a little alone time and spontaneous prayer, something I can only seem to do at the Kotel. When I got back--the Women of the Wall meet just outside the women's section--I found some familiar faces, and it wasn't long until davening started.

I was surprised by how quiet it was at first. For all the men in the men's section, most of them ignored us, and in the beginning there was only one guy yelling "gevalt" at us. It was easy to hear Nofrat Frenkel, who was leading the davening--unlike last time, when we had to strain to hear the leader. Eventually more people started yelling at us, but it was the women who made more of a fuss at us, pointing and yelling. There were plenty of soldiers and police officers guarding us, though; they stood between us and the women, though I think I saw a bit of shoving at one point. I was in the back, up against the wall that marks the end of the women's section. I figured it would give me a bit of emotional support if necessary, since getting two hours of sleep doesn't so much make for stability. Overall, though, I thought it was pretty much okay. It wasn't until Hallel that we had to strain to hear Nofrat, when other men joined in the "gevalt" and the women were screaming. By that point our original gevalter was reciting Hallel at us--though I don't understand what the point of that was. Yes, we know. We were just reciting that, thank you very much.

As we left the Kotel plaza for Robinson's Arch, a few men joined our group, including Noam and Mr. Dubin. This made me think a little bit; I've told people a few times that (in high school, at least) I felt that one of the worst parts of being a woman was not being able to help make a minyan in circumstances that required adherence to Orthodox law. How must these men feel, who want to support Women of the Wall but can't because of their gender? Is it similar to the way I feel when I can't help make a minyan? Perhaps I'll ask next time I see Mr. Dubin.

The rest of the service went without a hitch--we walked over to Robinson's Arch singing Mishe Nichnas Adar, but no one followed us over. We read the Torah with no screaming people and no rain to disrupt us. There was a little bit of dancing at the end of the Musaf amidah, but not so much. It was just calm, really, a big contrast to the davening at the Kotel itself. Out of sight, out of mind?

It's hard to come up with concluding thoughts right now, as I am writing this before going back to sleep--and if two hours isn't enough for emotional stability, it sure isn't enough for thinking. Thinking back to December, though, when most of the men on the men's side were screaming at us, it's amazing how many people ignored us. It's even more amazing to me that the women were the ones who gave us the hardest time; I understand, sorta, that there's a problem with kol isha for the men, but what's the problem with the women? Do they feel like we're reflecting badly on womenkind? If anything, I think they're the ones doing that. All we want to do is pray.

I'm grateful for the soldiers and police officers who came to protect us. I'm glad that no one got arrested. I'm glad that my initial fears were largely unfounded--though, perhaps I didn't get the full experience standing in the back. Those in the front may have a different story.