During the fall semester at Dickinson, as part of our preparation for this trip to Buenos Aires the research team took a class taught by Professor Shalom Staub entitled, “Ethnography of Jewish Experience.” In this class we focused on boundaries between Jews and the communities in which they live. What we only began to scratch the surface on was the topic of boundaries within the Jewish community itself. Here in Argentina the dynamics are fascinating and ever-changing. There are divisions between Orthodox and Reform (or what they call here Conservative), Sephardi and Ashkenazi, rich and poor. Yet the community remains together as Jews.
On the second day of our trip in Buenos Aires we ventured to the Camargo Temple, and orthodox Sephardic establishment. To a trained eye it became obvious almost immediately upon entering that we were not in your average Ashkenazi shul. The El Paso Temple, which we had visited the day before, was a model of European grandeur with gold decorations and very elaborate carvings on columns lining the sanctuary. Camargo had a very different feel. Many of the patterns were more geometric in design except for the stained glass windows depicting the twelve tribes of Israel. The most striking difference came with the Torot. Both shuls had a good number of them (33 at El Paso and 14 at Camargo) but their appearances were completely different. In Paso the Torot were dressed in maroon and gold cloth covers, elaborately embroidered. At Camargo there was a greater variety. A number of the Torah scrolls were dressed in white with silver embroidery and had very elaborate crowns. There were two or three other scrolls that were stored in the more traditional Sephardic silver cases. In a synagogue the Torah is one of the most holy objects. It is more or less the reason to have a synagogue. Jews can gather anywhere to pray but with the synagogue they have an established place to store the community’s holy objects (including the torah scrolls which are especially heavy and hard to transport).
Despite these clear physical differences in places of worship there tends to be a sense that Sefardim and Ashkenazim are all part of the larger Jewish community. While talking to young university students at Macabi (a Jewish retreat facility) the girls commented that it never even occurred to them to ask their friends if they were Sephardi or Ashkenazi. Rabbi Sacca of Camargo Temple phrased it very nicely. He spoke of the more physical customs: food, dress, decorations of the synagogue, as the “clothing” of Judaism. Everyone dresses their Judaism in a way that makes them comfortable with what is underneath, with the essence of it. If we view different strains of Judaism this way there is no way to feel a separation amongst the Jewish community. As human beings we may judge people by the clothes they wear and use them as keys to see what is underneath, but we never question the essence of the human being because of how they choose to cover themselves.
When talking to the students at Hillel one of them made a remark which unfortunately rings just as true. Gaston’s commented that the biggest divisions among Jews come from arguments over who is a Jew. Is it a question of birth? A question of self-identification? And if it’s either of those or something else how does the community regulate it?
Among the people that we talked to in Argentina the definitions varied greatly. At Macabi, which is a secular Jewish establishment (you can order ham and cheese at any of the restaurants and it runs the majority of its activities on Saturday), the general attitude seemed to define Jews as anyone who defines himself as Jewish. There were no questions asked when people rented a bungalow or signed up for sports teams. Moving along the spectrum, Hillel uses the Israeli Law of Return’s standards to define who can participate in their programming. The Law of Return basically states that if any one of your grandparents was Jewish, so are you. There are groups in Argentina (such as Chabad or Menorah (the youth group associated with the Camargo Temple) that go with the more traditional halachic definition of your mother needing to be Jewish.
The Argentinean Jewish community speaks well about the plurality and unity of the community. Everyone we’ve talked to seems to say that the community works well together and that divisions are only really noticed when it comes time to pray. Yet from an outsider’s perspective it is easy to see that this is not true. A person who keeps kosher would not be able to spend time at Macabi because the facilities would not accommodate their dietary restrictions. There are many more orthodox organizations that would not consider people who only have a Jewish father to be Jewish and exclude this group of people from their activities. The people at Hillel stated about the Jewish attitude about Israel, “to a non-Jew we feel we must always represent Israel in a positive light and be supportive, but amongst the Jewish community we can criticize Israel’s actions as much as we like.” This attitude is the same for the Argentina Jewish community and the divisions among it. To outsiders the community wishes to appear unified and loving, as a big Jewish Argentinean family. But when it comes down to the reality, amongst the community there is a lot of bitterness and arguments about how one should express their Judaism and even who should be counted in the Jewish community.

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.

For those of you Spanish speakers out there, check out the blog and the web site for Oral History Project on Argentine Jewish Immigration at the ORT School in Buenos Aires, directed by our colleague and friend, Laura Benadiba:

Blog: http://historiaoralort.blogspot.com/

Website: http://campus.almagro.ort.edu.ar/cienciassociales/historiaoral

The course blog will now extend the data collection phase for the oral history and ethnography project on Argentinean Jewish experience.  Prof. Susan Rose and Prof. Shalom Staub, with 8 students, are now in Buenos Aires to partner with Laura Benadiba, oral historian and teacher at the ORT School, who created an oral history project on Argentine Jewish immigration 19 years ago.

Visit this site for updates on our interviews, photos, etc. in the coming days.