Yom Kippur

Prayer and I don't get along well. I absolutely hate talking to God...He's a horrible conversationalist. I often find myself in the middle of the Amidah thinking, "We've been over this before!"

I do, however, really love Jewish people. This left me in a High Holiday dilemma...do I want to go to services and pray for hours upon hours or skip out on Yom Kippur entirely like I did with Rosh HaShannah?

I opted for services. I figured it would be an interesting cultural experience, even if services were boring. I googled synagogues in Santa Fe and came up with a Chabad house.

Chabad it was.

For those who don't really know what "Chabad" is, think of the guys in black hats and suits with very bushy beards. Think of the Rebbe Schneerson. Think Orthodox +.

Naturally, I was nervous. I met Rabbi Iair Vasershten in the Santa Fe terminal and he drove me to his house for dinner followed by Kol Nidre services. At his home I met his wife Debby and also Solomon, a rabbinical student in Buenos Aires who was helping the Rabbi out for the High Holiday services. This was my first real encounter with anyone ultra-Orthodox, and I was sleeping in their house. I felt out-of-place, uninformed and VERY under-dressed.

We ate dinner around 6:00...chicken and rice, (so Jewish). After that it was off to Kol Nidre. The next day gave me a lot of insight into Orthodox Judaism and a different perspective on Argentina.

I suppose an educated agnostic might assume that someone so religious has very little knowledge of anything other than Judaism. Not true. Rabbi Vasershten is very intellectual, much more so than people I've met in San Vicente (granted, San Vicente is the Argentine equivalent of hickville). Being a Chabad rabbi means he's had to work in a number of different places all over the world. One of those places is Connecticut, (which he prefers to the snobbiness of New York and the wanna-be snobbishness of New Jersey); he now speaks fluent English. He cares about politics and, for a non-U.S. citizen, can speak very articulately about it. He's even pro-Obama!

I expected that Rabbi Vasershten, because of all his travelling and close ties to Judaism above his country, would not be so concerned with the state of things in Argentina. Again, not true. Iair was born in Buenos Aires. His parents recently moved to Chile and his wife is from Brazil. Iair seemed embarrassed about the way things are going in Argentina - corruption and economic instability have become the norm. I used to think Argentina and Chile were rivals. The Vasershtens, however, seem to have given up any claims to be Chile's "better" neighbor or even equal competitor. While Argentinean wallows in continued instability, Chile is rapidly progressing. Iair spoke of Chile like a beautiful resort where you'd like to vacation - nice scenery, friendly people and a government that works! Debby, accustomed to the bright lights of Sao Paolo, complained that everything in Argentina feels old, even Buenos Aires. Her dream is to move to Miami or another city in the U.S.

At one point, Iair was telling Debby and Solomon about supermarkets in the U.S. that have automatic check-out stations without cashiers working them. Debby didn't understand. "What about when people don't pay?" she asked. "What do you mean?" Iair responded. "Of course people pay."

"People don't cheat it?" Debby asked earnestly. Iair laughed. "Well, in a society that functions, this system works!"

Corruption, I suppose, trickles down. As much as I dislike the Bush administration, our country still functions. The more I see of Argentina, the prouder I feel to be an American (more to this in a later blog post).

I should also say that walking with Solomon and Iair gave me new appreciation of what it means to be a religious Jew outside of Israel. As we were walking, someone screamed out "Barba!" loudly at them, (Spanish for "beard"). I talked to Iair in English for a while on the walk; some girls who were walking next to us asked me where I was from. I told them the U.S. Afterwards, Solomon told me that they weren't only asking me. They were asking all three of us; the Catholic Argentineans usually think that these black-clad people are foreigners. Many of my peers in San Vicente don't even know what a "sinagoga" is. This gave me new respect for the Orthodox; they are constantly stared at and made to feel out-of-place in their own country, yet they stick to their beliefs. That kind of courage is impressive.

The services the next day felt a bit like torture. The tunes to the few prayers that I know were often changed, and they were supplemented by many prayers I'd never even heard before. Rabbi Vasershten did every single prayer and every single service in the Mahzor. Services began at 9 in the morning and ended at 8 at night. Normally on Yom Kippur, I can at least look forward to a fantastic break fast at the Olsens. I never realized how much a person could miss a few bagels and pieces of kugel; this Yom Kippur was by far the bleakest holiday I've ever celebrated. I thought that being with Jews would make me feel at home, but it actually made me the most homesick I've been here. All I wanted to do was sit down at a table with the Levinsons and Davis' and shmere cream cheese onto an untoasted sesame bagel. Instead, I was with a bunch of people who I'd never met before. People say you're supposed to feel at home in any Jewish community at home. While Iair and Debby were incredibly welcoming and made me feel comfortable, I was very aware that I was an outsider in their congregation when I went to services.

To conclude: was this a fun few days for me? Not exactly. Was it interesting? Absolutely. Perhaps most importantly, I came back to San Vicente feeling energized, happy to see the faces that have now become familiar to me. A little break from this town, even though it was to a small city that I barely even had the chance to see, was just what I needed.

Now that I've had my first excursion from San Vicente, I feel like I will have many more; I feel more confident being proactive. Next week, I am going to a Bersuit concert (one of my favorite Argentinean bands) - ironically - in Santa Fe. After that, Melina and I are going to spend a weekend with a friend of hers in Rosario and then two weeks later, I will begin a 17-day trip to Patagonia! And after that?

Well, it's only one month until Christmas, and everyone knows that's the most wonderful time of the year.