Rosh Hashanah (part 1)

Rabbi Marcus said that the goal of the Heritage House Rosh Hashanah in the Old City was to make it “the best Rosh Hashanah of your life.” It’s not doing it for me. It’s just not. Several points which are making this the case:

- The mechitza. I’m usually okay with mechitzas, but this one is a solid grey curtain going all the way to the front. It doesn’t bother me so much that I can’t see the guys—well, except for when the guys are singing and no one on the women’s side is. But what bothers me is the fact that I can’t see the Torah, or the ark for that matter. How can I stand in front of an open ark when I can’t see the ark in the first place? What goes does hearing the Torah reading do if I can’t see the actual Torah. Forget for a moment that it would never happen in an Orthodox synagogue, but how do I know they’re not just reading out of a chumash? I need to make a connection to the Torah and the ark in order for Rosh Hashanah to be meaningful. I need to see these things, and it’s not happening there.

- Last night we were set up in pairs with families for dinner, and the wife of the family I was with didn’t get side down for dinner! “NAME, we need two more plates.” “NAME, water.” All the time she was bringing things in and out, and it wasn’t just the husband who was acting like this, it was the other guests, the friends of the family! When I asked her if she ever got to sit down, she said “Maybe once the kids go to bed, but it’s fine. I like it this way.” She didn’t look happy, nor was the majority of her in-and-out due to kids. Her husband never offered to help, nor did the other guests. What is this? Why can’t she sit down to her own Rosh Hashanah dinner? It bothered me.

- I’ve also been hearing a lot of bigoted opinions this Shabbat. A couple times a Muslim family walked by and the guest who sat next to me muttered as soon as they walked by. “I’m fine with them, but I don’t want them as my neighbors! Why can’t they stay in their own quarter?” (Sound like 50s/60s era America, anyone?) A couple of times they mocked Conservative Judaism, but those comments were at the other end of the table so I didn’t quite catch what was being mocked, other than a rabbi taking a tourist group to see a church. Sarah, the other student, and I got asked if we wanted to make aliyah, and one person asked me why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t feel like I could reply. This was the first time I’ve ever felt that I had to be closeted about being Conservative--let alone everything else I have to be closeted about!

There are also smaller things. There are also classes upstairs during the repetitions of the amidah—“when the service seems like it goes on forever”—and the entire women’s section empties at that point. Until then, it’s too crowded. Pages are called whenever they change, and if we get reminded to say “Adonai” instead of “HaShem,” or to stay out of the aisle during the Amidah so women can get out (which doesn’t happen, btw), I’m going to scream. I don’t know what I’m going to do about tomorrow. I can’t concentrate in there. I’m thinking of going to the Kotel and davening by myself. Maybe I’ll be lucky and there will be a group of particularly loud, ruach-filled men there and I can follow along with them.