This Yeshiva Bachora: November 2009

In Jerusalem, the Kotel (Western Wall), and the Jewish quarter of the Old City, are run by the Ultra-Orthodox. Over the past several years, the men’s side of the mechitza (divider) at the Kotel has gotten larger, and the women’s side has gotten smaller. The men’s side is full of groups praying communally, singing, reading from the Torah. On the women’s side, we pray individually, silently. That’s just the way it is--or, the way it has to be, according to the Ultra-Orthodox.

For the past 20 years, a group called Women of the Wall meets on Rosh Hodesh (the first of the Jewish month) and some holidays to pray together as a group at the Kotel. They often get heckled and harassed. As a result of court disputes surrounding WOW, it is now illegal for a woman to wear a tallit (prayer shawl; traditionally worn by men) or read Torah at the Kotel and other holy places.

Women of the Wall met last Wednesday, and I and several other Pardes students went. The day before, I suddenly began to doubt why I was going. Was I going to pray, or to make a point? I realized that I wasn’t sure how I felt about using my prayer as a tool to make a political statement. (Don’t get me wrong, I support that political statement fully. I would have no problem petitioning or protesting for equal rights at the Kotel—but this was a little different.) Would I be using the traditional liturgy as a form of protest? Or would I simply be praying with a group because I want to, because I believe it’s my right, regardless of the responses it provokes? I had some long conversations with friends. Some of my friends are so uncomfortable and made so angry by the state of things at the Kotel that they can’t go there to pray in any other context. Another friend pointed out that if WOW wasn’t controversial, and was simply a women’s group that met every Rosh Hodesh to pray at the Kotel, I would want to go to that, too. Eventually, I decided to go, though I still felt conflicted.

Even getting dressed Wednesday morning was complicated. Do I wear a long skirt? If I wear a skirt, am I acquiescing to the ultra-orthodox control of the Wall? Or am I wearing a skirt out of genuine kavod (honor, respect) for the Kotel, the same way I wouldn’t wear pants to synagogue on Shabbat? I didn’t know. I wore a skirt.

The beginning of the service went fine—no heckling, no trouble. Guests were invited to lead, and my friends Lauren and Evelyn led Shacharit and Hallel. In the middle of Hallel, I realized that I was so focused on my prayers and trying so hard to shut out the complicatedness/politics of it and make sure that I was really praying that I forgot that I was praying at the Kotel; I had shut that out, too. When it came time for the Torah service, someone announced that this was the quietest WOW has ever been, and, after some hesitation, the decision was made to try to hold the Torah service at the Kotel, instead of moving to Robinson’s arch (a non-controversial location) as they usually do. There was definitely a sense of seeing how far we could push the envelope, and a sense of nervousness, and of excitement.

It started passive-aggressively. First a female guard came over as the Torah was being rolled to the right place, and demanded to have the cart we were using as a table because it was hers. We gave it to her. Then a male guard came into the women’s section, and told us to close the Torah, which we did. We sang the beginning of the Torah service; before we got to actually reading Torah the police showed up. They told us to leave, which we had started to do already. When we got onto the plaza, the woman carrying the Torah was arrested; we followed until we were stopped, then waited outside, singing. Nofrat was charged with two criminal accounts—wearing a tallit and carrying a Torah (though reading is illegal). She was brought to a second location for further questioning, and eventually released; charges are pending.

My personal conflict over mixing prayer and protest remained without me through the whole morning. At one point during Hallel, one of the organizers said to another “What’s going on? Where is everybody, where’s the crowd?”, and I thought, “Why does it matter? If we’re here to pray, who cares whether we draw a crowd or not?” After Nofrat was arrested, I wanted to pray musaf (the end of the service), and it was hard to get people’s attention/interest. In my mind, I was there to pray, and if we didn’t care about finishing the service, what was I doing there? Musaf eventually happened, at my insistence, but the whole experience was incredibly frustrating. Later, I noticed that many women continued to wear their tallitot two hours after the arrest--a tallit had become a political symbol. Or were they just too distracted/upset to take them off?

There are two sides (at least) to every story. On the one hand, it’s horrible that a woman was arrested for carrying a Torah. On the other hand, the police could have arrested everyone wearing a tallit. A friend overheard the same comment about the lack of crowd that I did, and interpreted it as relief at not being harassed rather than a desire to attract attention. And I later heard that a group from a synagogue in the States had prayed musaf on their own while we had been singing, which I’m sure contributed to the lack of enthusiasm when I suggested it 10 minutes later. In the end, I’m still confused about a lot of things.

One of the things that I find really interesting about this experience is how different people reacted so differently to the same events. This is just the story of my experience, and I’m not even sure what I make of it. If you’re interested in reading some other reactions, check out my friends Naomi’s, Evelyn’s, and Miriam’s blog posts about it.

I don’t know what it will be like the next time I go back to the Kotel. I never used to mind praying as an individual, hearing the singing from the men’s side. I have a feeling things are going to be more emotionally complicated now. Probably that’s a good thing.

News articles:
Haaretz: Police arrest woman for wearing prayer shawl at Western Wall
Jerusalem Post: Woman wearing a talit at Kotel detained
Yeshiva World News: One arrested as "Women of the Wall" daven at the kosel
Women of the Wall arrest: A First-Hand Account
Haaretz: Police arrest female activist after donning prayer shawl at Western Wall
Jerusalem Post: Kotel Rabbi calls "Women of the Wall" prayer provocation
Reuters: Israeli woman wearing prayer shawl held at holy site

2 really beautiful articles written by Nofrat Frenkel:
On being arrested for wearing a tallit: http://forward.com/articles/119509/
On being a Jewish lesbian: http://www.uscj.org/All_is_Created_for_H7983.html

Live from my apartment:
Carra: Rachel, there’s a cockroach in the bathroom.
Me: Ok, here’s the plan. I’ll try to catch it with this plastic container, but if it’s too fast and I miss, you get to kill it with your shoe.
Carra: I’m scared.
Me: Too bad we’re not Israeli. Then we’d be used to this sort of thing.
Carra: No, actually, I don’t think that there’s any way that this could not be terrifying.

Last week, Pardes went on a tiyul (trip) to the Negev (the desert in southern Israel) from Tues-Thurs. It was nice to take a break from classes and get to spend some time with other Pardes students in a new environment. I decided to try out the “challenging” hikes, and I’m really glad I did. I thought that I’d be the puffing and panting slowpoke, but the hikes weren’t actually all that challenging, and I got to spend 7 or 8 consecutive hours a day outside—which for me was the best part of the trip. I felt more energized than I have in a long time. It’s amazing what sunshine and exercise can do.

The first day, we hiked in Nachal Mishmar. Nachal means river, but this one was dried up. We started out hiking in the riverbed, then climbed up and looped back along the rim. At some point during the ascent, we turned around and there was the Dead Sea behind us.

The second day we hiked to and up a maktesh. Often translated as a crater, a maktesh is a unique geological formation. Essentially, you’ve got a hill/mountain where one side is steeper than the other, and the top layer of rock is harder than the rock underneath it. Water flows down the steep side, slowly cutting its way through the hard layer, until it reaches the soft layer underneath. It then carves out the soft rock underneath, until the whole thing collapses on itself and drains out to a wadi. As our guide put it, imagine pouring water on a soft roll with a hard crust.

If you asked me before last week to play word association with the word “desert,” I probably would have said, “sand.” Now, I would say “rocks, rocks, rocks.” Throughout the second day, there were many times when the path was nonexistant, just rocks and rocks in the desert, and sometimes a rock with a trail blaze on it. The best was the end of the hike, when we first had to climb down sheer, smooth rock at about a 60 degree angle for quite a ways. Not exactly my definition of the word “trail.” I did it crab-walk style.

The third day, we hiked at Ma’ale Akrubim. The descent down at the end was on a road that the Romans had partially hewed out of the rock.

On Friday, my roommates and I volunteered for an organization called משולחן לשולחן (from Table to Table). They collect unused/leftover food (from weddings, large events, etc) and donate it to food pantries and soup kitchens around the country. They also harvest fruit and vegetables from farms that otherwise would go to waste. Along with some other Pardes students and a whole crew of (mostly young American and British) volunteers, we went to a kibbutz near Rechovot to pick clementines and oranges. Another beautiful several hours spent outside. Picking clementines fell into a rhythm that was really relaxing. It felt great to be actively doing something with my hands that both connected me to agriculture/the earth and also helped provide food to those who need it.

On a somewhat related note, my apartment recently joined a CSA. So nice to get fresh, local veggies delivered every other week! A bit of an eclectic selection (beets, kohlrabi, and daikon, all in one box?)--it will force me to experiment with new recipes. :-)

The pictures are a little out of chronological order...