Ethnography of Jewish Experience » soifert

Observations from Argentina: Terri

soifert — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 14:10:36 +0000

On Friday night, January 8, 2010, Professor Staub, Kat, Hannah, and I attended an Orthodox Sephardic synagogue for Friday night Shabbat services. The synagogue, Camargo, is in the Jewish neighborhood of Villa Crespo in Buenos Aires. Villa Crespo has multiple synagogues, along with multiple kosher restaurants. Camargo is unique because it was created as a Sephardic synagogue, catering towards the Jewish population from Turkey, Spain, Northern Africa, and the Middle East. Camargo hit a peak in 1956, declined in the 70’s, but has found new energy in their new, young, rabbi and in their active youth. By having a Jewish day school, Shalom Alechim, and a youth movement that has participants ages 12-18, Menorah, the youth have created a new force within the community. Menorah sponsors trips along with social activities. A young man in the congregation, Ezra, became active in Camargo and became more relgious because of his involvement in Menorah. The hazan of the congregation, Rodrigo, explained to the group that the youth bring the adults to the congregation. Camargo, once primarily a Sephardic congregation, today has both Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews.
Services on Friday night began around 7:15, before sunset. When we arrived, Hannah, Kat, and I went to the women’s side, while Professor Staub joined the men on their respective side. Separating the men from the women was a mahidtza; the bottom portion was wood while the upper half was a sheer white curtain. The women were able to see the general outline of the men through the curtain. Services were held in the Beit Midrash or library, not the main sanctuary because it is summer in Buenos Aries and many people were away on vacation. The women’s side had about ten chairs set up, while the men could sit easily fifty or sixty.
We joined services in the middle of the afternoon service, which would lead directly into the Shabbat evening service. When we entered the Beit Midrash, there was one younger woman on the women’s side, who was wearing a skirt covering her knees, a shirt covering her elbows, and wig to cover her head because she was married. She was very kind to us, helping us find our place in the service. As we started the Evening Shabbat service, more men and women came. By the end of the Shabbat service there was eight women total. There was one other woman who dressed as modestly as the first woman, wearing clothes to cover her knees and elbows along with a wig. However, the older women who came did not dress as modestly as the younger women, they showed their elbows, and one wore pants. Every time a new woman entered, she kissed everyone and wished them a “Shabbat Shalom,” even us, the students, who she did not know.
The hazan, Rodrigo led the service, as the rabbi followed along, sitting in front of the men beside the ark. Many of the prayers were said slowly and as a group. I did not recognize many of the tunes we sung, however the words of the prayers were the same, since the whole service was in Hebrew. The men chanted loudly with passion, and the women chanted along, but quietly. Like the pattern on the women’s side, the older men were not dressed as religiously as the younger men. The older men wore slacks, a short sleeve shirt, and usually a kippah. The younger men wore suits with kippot, some with black hats, and some had tzittzit. Wearing a black hat is distinctive of an Ashkenazi Orthodox Jew, meaning that the presence of black hats was proof of the mix community of Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews at Camargo. The younger generation davined more distinctly, obviously swaying back and forth. It was evident that the younger generation had more orthodox tendencies than the older generation in their dress and in the way they prayed. If this is because of the youth organizations at Camargo, like Menorah, I am not sure.
Towards the end of the service the rabbi gave a midrash, about the importance of what a name means, and everyone paid close attention, nodding their heads together in agreement or laughing at a joke. The midrash was in Spanish, however Kay summarized it for us on the walk home. The service ended with a closing song, and then we left the synagogue. Before we left both the rabbi and Rodrigo invited us for a meal. The Shabbat experience at Carmago was warm. We were greeted as if we had been part of the community for years. The service was proof of the energy and religious fervor among the youth at Camargo. They will be the future of the community, and can be proof of a growing Orthodox Jewish community in Buenos Aires.

Terri 12/3: Blog 6

soifert — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 01:57:56 +0000

In today’s class, while discussing the “myth” of the Holocaust, many students told stories of their experiences visiting concentration camps in Europe. Between the members of the class, there were many different types of concentration camps represented, and we learned about the different ways that the concentration camps presented themselves. One student said, “I took a pilgrimage to Eastern Europe and then to Israel, visiting different concentration camps.” The word pilgrimage made me think about the role of the Holocaust and the notion of memorializing concentration camps. According to the New Oxford English Dictionary, a pilgrimage is, “A journey to a place associated with someone or something well known or respected.”

If you interpret the definition as traveling to a well-known place, then trips to concentration camps are pilgrimages, since they are well known. However, respected is not a word I would uses to describe a concentration camp. But since people do travel to the camps, there must be respect for them. Maybe respect for the death and tragedy that occurred there? So, pilgrimage seems to be the right verb to describe a trip to a concentration camp, but then I thought, why do people take these pilgrimages to concentration camps? Why have we turned these places of destruction into memorials?

In my opinion, by turning concentration camps into memorials, we have made time and life freeze. People get upset when people want to develop new institutions on the land of concentration camps. Instead of moving forward and sending the message that the Holocaust is over and it is time for life in Europe to proceed forward, the camps are constant reminders of the tragedies that took place eighty years ago. Some argue that we need to maintain the concentration camps, to remember, to never forget, and to never let the Holocaust happen again. But we also want to move forward. There needs to be a balance between remembering and moving on.

Today we ended class by stating that whole generations of Jews have based their Jewish identities on the Holocaust, but what happens when people do not feel that same connection to the Holocaust? When people say enough is enough, it was terrible, but the Jews are strong, look at Israel and America? I think it is time to move forward. The Holocaust needs to be remembered, however it the symbols of the death and destruction do not need to memorialized to the extent that they are. People do not need to be making pilgrimages to concentration camps to form their Jewish identities; they need to focus on the future to form their identities. A generation of Jews have created identities on destruction and it is time to form identities on hope for a brighter future.

Terri Blog 11/27: Number 5

soifert — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 15:19:09 +0000

As I was reading Eli Yossif’s article in Modern Jewish Mythology and his article “Introduction: Modern Jewish Culture as a System of Myths,” he made the claim that the story of the Holocaust could be viewed as a myth (12). At first, as an insider to Jewish Ethnography, or in other words as a Jew, I was horrified by this statement. I have had family that have both survived and died in the Holocaust. I have visited museums, concentration camps, and read personal accounts of the horrors. How could Yossif compare the Holocaust to the story of Hanukkah, claiming they were both myths that told the story of the Jewish collective memory? The Hanukkah story took place centuries ago with limited proof, but the Holocaust took place less than one hundred years ago, and the proof is everywhere. The repeating question in my head was, what is this guy thinking? How can he call the Holocaust a myth, is he a Jew?

However I put the article down for a couple of days and returned to it, rereading the conclusion, specifically this sentence:

Only from this point of view can we label the Holocaust as myth: this is an event in the past whose narrative was founded as part of the collective memory of Jewish society, which returns to it ritually again and again, through the marking of Holocaust Day, visits to concentration camps and Holocaust museums, and the presentation of compulsory courses in school (12).

I thought about the idea of ritualizing the Holocaust and Yossif’s comment finally made sense. As a Jew, the Holocaust has influenced a large part of my Jewish identity. Using Yossif’s definition, I also view the Holocaust as a myth. He is not calling it a historical myth, but rather a myth because it creates rituals. Rituals such as Yom Hashoah and the creation of memorials and museums have made the “myth” of the Holocaust one that will not be forgotten.

From an ethnographic perspective, I think it was fascinating that he called the Holocaust a myth. He defined a myth as something that creates a story that encourages ritual, not just a story. Jews have used the Holocaust as a myth, as a story that tells the struggle and ultimate survival of the Jews. It is a story that not only needs to be told, but one that needs to be remembered through ritual. Just as the story of Hanukkah is used as a myth to remember the strength of the Jewish people, the survival of the Jews during the Holocaust is also one of strength and survival. Especially in the State of Israel, which can be proof of the strength of the Jewish people after the Holocaust and World War II and the their ultimate survival. Hopefully, the story of the Holocaust is one that will be told for generations to come.

Terri Blog 4

soifert — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 18:30:54 +0000

As we read Susan Sered’s book, she wrote about the important role food played in the women’s Jewish experience. When the women were asked what they did on a specific holiday, their answer usually pertained to food. This section made me think of an argument during a Hillel meeting last year. One of the board members tired of the constant food preparation and clean-up that became part of every Hillel event, stated, “Why do we need food at every event? Isn’t there more to Judaism than food?” At the time we all kind of giggled and moved on, however that is a valid question. How important is the role of food in Jewish practices?

As we have begun to study a growing number of Jewish communities, each community is different, however all of them value the importance of food in their Jewish experience and usually the women maintain this practice. The importance of food is an important example of how since Biblical times Jews have learned to interact with their surrounding cultures. When the Philistines invaded Ancient Israel, the Jews created special dietary laws to separate themselves from the new surrounding culture. Food became a way for Jews to create boundaries, like when they eat Matzah on Passover, or eat Challah every Friday night on Shabbat.

On the other hand, food has also enabled Jews to “Judaize” their surrounding culture and incorporate aspects of that culture into Judaism. By using the ingredients accessible to them, Jews in different regions of the world have altered
Jewish Food to reflect their surrounding culture. For example the Ashkenazi eat dishes with potatoes, while Jews from the Middle East eat couscous. Like music and dress, food redefines the boundaries that Jews create between themselves and other cultures. At the same time, the surrounding cultures “localize” ethnic Jewish food into their culture. For example in America, non-Jews will eat Challah because they like the way it tastes. Or food, such as bagels, is a stereotypical Jewish American food, even though the bagel is not a traditional food. Instead it has become associated with Jews. Non-traditional food, such as bagels, allows secular non-religious Jews to still feel a connection to their heritage.

The answer to the Hillel board member’s question of “Why must there always be food?” is a complex one. Like the women in the Sered’s book, food allows Jews, especially women, to feel a connection to the rituals and to their religion. This idea also applies to secular Jews who may not participate in the religious rituals but feel a connection to Judaism by eating certain foods. These foods have been influenced by traditional texts but primarily by surrounding cultures. Food is a great example of how the Jews have redefined their boundaries between themselves and other cultures while in the Diaspora. So why must Jews always have food, because food is a way for all types of Jews, whether religious, secular, women, or men to connect to their Judaism.

10/12 Class Reflection Terri

soifert — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 19:24:30 +0000

When we were watching, A Jew is Not One Thing, the Diaspora was a theme of the film. The question arose if the Diaspora was a good or bad thing? Also, did the Jews survive because of the Diaspora? We commented that the film did not really portray the American Jewish identity and opinion, and I think the Diaspora is something that American Jews can relate to. As an American Jew I believe that the Diaspora was a good thing, because it has shaped the Jewish people and the country of Israel so dramatically.

In some ways American Jews are almost in what I would call their “Second Diaspora.” Most American Jews are originally from Europe, making them Ashkenazi. These Jews left Israel after the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD and lived in Europe until around the 19^th century, when they began to immigrate to America for economic opportunity or to escape persecution. Most American Jews have only lived in America for a few generations. They had to leave their homeland of Europe in order to survive, much like the Ancient Jews had to leave Israel to survive. The Diaspora community enabled the Jews to survive. By leaving persecution, the Jews could maintain their practices and keep their “boundaries” between their foreign neighbors and themselves. But once again the Jews had to leave Europe, entering a “Second Diaspora,” in America. And once again this “Second Diaspora” helped the Jews to survive.

In the film, people who lived in Israel claimed that living in Israel was finally returning home and it was good thing to leave the Diaspora community behind. As an American Jew who lives in the “Diaspora,” this claim confused me. Let me first clarify: I love Israel, I think there is something very special about the majority of the population being Jewish, and I think it is an important part of the future survival of the Jews. However, the modern country of Israel is only sixty years old. When Israel was created, people who had lived in the Diaspora created it. And they took their different customs from their differing Jewish communities and created a new Jewish Israeli culture. Some of these Jews lived in Islamic lands, some in Christian lands, and some in lands where they were the only Jews in the whole country. Their customs were influenced by the surrounding cultures; many of these Jews “Judaized” the cultures around them to create a Jewish identity that fit into their communities. When Israel was created, all these different Jews had to create a new unified Jewish identity. For example, the Modern Hebrew language is spoken in the manner Sephardic Jews speak it, with the pronunciation on the second syllable. But, the Modern Hebrew language also had words that were influenced by Yiddish, from the Ashkenazi Jewish community. The Diaspora Jewish community, with all their differing customs, created the current culture of Israel. Israel is a Jewish melting pot.

As an American Jew I am the most comfortable with my Diaspora community, America. Even though Israel is the homeland of the Jews, my customs are influenced by American culture. Woody Allen is a symbol of Jewish humor, bagels are a part of Sunday brunch, and when I buy chicken, I like the package to say Empire on it. I have “Judaized” my surrounded culture and in turn have helped to “localized” my Jewish culture. I have been a part of this process and do not believe that it is a bad thing to live in the Diaspora. Being raised in America, it is my homeland, especially since I have actively participated in the culture processes; I feel a strong connection to my Diaspora community.

Terri , 9/28

soifert — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 00:34:59 +0000

As I stood in Temple for the past twenty-four hours, I had time to reflect, a common act during this time of the Jewish year. I thought about my relationships with people over the last year, and all the goals I had accomplished, but also about my Jewish identity. This made me think of our class and all the different Jewish experiences that exist. And I came to the conclusion, that at the end of the day, I am one hundred percent a Reform Ashkenazi Jew.

One of my favorite parts of Yom Kippur is the prayer Avinu Malkenu, which is chanted about ten times between both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The tune is a very familiar one to me, one I find myself singing during the ten days between the two holidays. The first time the congregation sings it together I always get chills, thinking of all the other congregations that are also singing that same tune. However, how many Jewish congregations/ communities are really singing that same tune? Yes many other communities are saying or chanting that prayer, but would that prayer with a different tune have the same affect on me? Lowenstein discusses the traditional prayers of Yom Kippur and how many, especially the famous Kol Nidre, is part of the Ashkenazi Jewish music tradition.

As I looked at the bimah and heard the cantor chant the special prayers for Yom Kippur, I realized how much of my Jewish experience is influenced by Europe and Christianity. Both my parent’s families are from Europe, however I think it is Reform Judaism that has influenced it more heavily. At the services today there was an organ, responsive English reading, and a sermon by the Rabbi. The Temple had pew-like benches, stain glass windows, and the clergy were on the bimah surrounded by lights. Reform Judaism was created in order for the German Jews to not feel so unique among their Protestant Christian neighbors. Again questions entered my head, would I feel more comfortable in a church than an Orthodox or even Conservative synagogue? Would I feel like a complete stranger in a synagogue in another country that is not influenced by Europe, such as Yemen?

But this does not only apply to me, there are many other Jews who share a similar background with myself. Jews are supposed to share common traditions, rituals, and customs, however has the experience of the European Jew and Yemenite Jew grown too far apart? Have the years experiencing different cultures created two separate religions?

Lowenstein discusses the idea of “great and little traditions.” He believes that the “great traditions” maintain the continuity of the religion, for example all Jews read the Torah. However the “little traditions,” are shaped by the surrounding culture, like the melodies of prayers. But I think the “little traditions” are not that little. The “little traditions” can change a tradition dramatically, making the tradition or ritual a whole new experience and completely different from the same tradition in another place. “Little traditions,” are not an afterthought, but create the character that composes Judaism. The “little tradition” of an Hassidic Jew wearing a black or fur hat characterizes many Jews, especially in the United States. If a Yemenite Jew walked next to a Hassidic Jew in Brooklyn, would other people on the sidewalk know they are both Jews?

“Little Traditions” compose the majority of an individual’s Jewish experiences. They encompass food, music, attire, and many rituals. If anything, the traditions of the Torah and the prayers are less important to many Jews than the cultural aspects, such as food. Judaism is unique because every Jewish experience, even if it is within the same city, is different. This is why I think Lowenstein should not call the cultural traditions, “little traditions,” because they play a much larger role in people’s Jewish identities. The “little traditions” are the traditions that will create the rituals and customs that Jews connect to. In my mind these “little traditions” are the “large traditions” that create the difference between a Yemenite Jew and myself. In the end, I do not think my Yom Kippur would be the same without the European, Ashkenazi tune that I know for Avinu Malkenu.

Terri : 9/7 Class

soifert — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 16:27:04 +0000

As a Hebrew School student my favorite part of the Torah was Genesis, especially the stories about the patriarchs and matriarchs. I always liked that the characters that created the foundation of Judaism, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and even Moses, had flaws. Abraham was willing to sacrifice his own son, Jacob tricked his father, Joseph tormented his brothers when they were in Egypt, and Moses did not listen to G-d. While reading Ilana Pardes’ article, “Imagining the Birth of Ancient Israel,” it made me look at my favorite bible characters not as main characters in their own individual stories, but secondary characters in the story of the Jewish people. Pardes’ conclusion that the relationship between G-d and the people of Israel is a story between a father and son, made me rethink how I viewed these characters.

The patriarchs in Genesis represent the early relationship between a parent and their child. The child is looking for acceptance from their parent, evident in the story of the binding of Isaac. The child is mischievous as seen in both the story of Jacob stealing his brother’s birthright and when Jacob’s sons sell their brother Joseph. And the child is rebellious when the people of Israel worship the Golden Calf and Moses does not listen to G-d when asked to talk to a rock for water. In all of these different situations G-d acts as the parent, for example explaining to Abraham that he does not have to sacrifice his son, it was test. G-d does not punish Jacob for stealing the birthright, because like a parent, G-d has a favorite child as well, the Jewish people. This is why G-d does not punish Jacob for stealing his older brothers birthright and blessing. When Moses hits the rock instead of talking to it, G-d decides he cannot see the promise land.

Israel, the chosen child, is not a perfect child, however G-d is not the perfect parent either. G-d has a temper that sometimes does not let G-d make the most rational decisions. G-d plays favorites, helping his favorite people, the chosen people. And even though the chosen people, the favorite child, makes mistakes, G-d is still there is with unconditional love.

This analysis of the Torah raises two questions for me: why did G-d choose these people to be the favorite child and why is the relationship imperfect? I am currently taking Hebrew Testament in Context, and we studied that the Jewish people were a collection of random people, a conclusion Padres makes as well. The Torah explains that these people all believed in the same G-d, and were the first monotheists. G-d took the outcasts, the people who did not feel connected with their tribe and made them one, the chosen child. They did not have the most advance culture, however G-d felt something for the awkward-group-of-people-in-the-corner. And this is why I think the relationship is viewed as imperfect. The chosen people had to become one, and G-d dealt with all the differences until they were one, and that did not occur until they entered Israel. Once in Israel G-d and the people’s relationship improves, the people worship one G-d and protect the land given to them. However looking at the book of Genesis specifically, it is a reminder that the family unit is not perfect, growing up does not go smoothly, but as a parent there is unconditional love. However even the all knowing parent can make mistakes, which G-d does. The imperfection in the Bible stories is one of the many reasons I enjoy the Jewish religion. It teaches the lesson that in order to be religious, you do not have to be perfect, and it is ok to make mistakes and question authority.