Yom Kippur: the Day of Atonement, the most popular Jewish fast day, the favorite holiday of only one person I know. This year, Yom Kippur was much more than repenting for sins of the past year.
My Yom Kippur experiences began Thursday night with Nativ classes. I chose to attend a text study of Kol Nidrei (the opening Yom Kippur service in which we ask for annulment of vows) and a study of Al Chet (a passage in which we ask for forgiveness for many different kinds of sins). In the first, I learned that there is actually no purpose to Kol Nidrei because it is not truly a beit din (court) and does not follow the actual ordained rules for the annulment of vows; however, all Jews everywhere still do it. In the second, we discussed what a community was and why Al Chet is of communal sins, not personal. Both were very interesting.
On Friday we had an early lunch, followed by mincha together. Some Nativers had gone earlier in the morning to do (or maybe just see) kapparot, a tradition in which one will swing a chicken around his/her head to transfer his/her sins to the chicken, which will then be slaughtered and given to a poor family. In the afternoon, I did kapparot (for the first time!) but with money (not a chicken, also acceptable) designated for tzedaka. After this, we ate our last meal for before the fast, followed by getting dressed for Yom Kippur.
While my roommates and I were getting dressed in the traditional all white clothing, we had a realization: we have the best roommates. We all not only get along but actually like each other, and we think we are the only room of all of Nativ (or at least of girls in our track) to not have any even moderately serious problems.
Around 4:30, I left with a group to Shira Chadasha for Kol Nidrei and maariv services. We girls had to sit outside (they have a side door on the women’s section to extend the sanctuary outside a bit) because all of the seats were reserved. Unfortunately, we could not hear well, so everyone except me left to go to Kedem (a nearby Conservative shul) or to the Great Synagogue. I decided to stay there because I knew I at least somewhat liked this service, so I went inside and stood in the back for the 2 hour service. It was a nice service, but my legs hurt by the end of it.
After services, we walk back to Beit Nativ to find that a Nativ tradition has started without us! Already, Nativers were sitting in a big circle in the middle of the busy intersection right next to our buildings, singing as if it were a Shabbat tisch (I guess it was Shabbat, but Nativers do this every year). But not only is it Nativ- passersby would come and join and watch and sing. (At one point we realized we had pretty much become a tourist attraction, too.) The “tisch” was a lot of fun, but I was not surprised to hear that our director said it was the worst Nativ Yom Kippur tisch she had been to.
Did I mention how it was completely acceptable for us to be in the street? There are almost no cars on the streets of Jerusalem- much because there is nowhere to go as everything is closed. They even turn off the street lights. We left a path for ambulances and police cars, and that was pretty much it. During the day we would just walk in the street, avoiding collisions with bikes.
Saturday had an interesting beginning. Many of us had a plan to wake up around 4:45 to leave for Yedidya, a synagogue in Talpiot that was apparently amazing, at 5 to go to their early service at 5:45 to be back at Beit Nativ for a longer nap gap. We had a chain of waking people up to avoid setting alarms. Overall, good plan. I wake up in the morning to Mia coming into my room saying, “Jill, I’m so sorry. My alarm didn’t go off, but it’s 5:30 now. At least we can go with the group leaving at 6.” So first I’m a little upset because I thought Hannah was supposed to wake me up, but whatever, not a big deal. I wake up my roommates because they want to go to the leaving-at-6 service, but they make the wise decision to not get out of bed. I get dressed and go downstairs to make sure I don’t miss the group leaving at 6. But here I can see a clock. It’s 2:50. I look at the other clock. 2:50. OK. I go back upstairs, having decided I should try to sleep for 2 hours. Mia’s in the hall, worried about having sent me into the world at 2:50 as she has realized that her clock was somehow set about 3 hours ahead. We go back to bed, and 2 hours later she summons me (though I don’t think I slept at all) to get ready at a more appropriate time. I learn that the responsibility of waking me had been transferred from Hannah to Mia (I had been very confused), and we make our way to Yedidya.
Services there were nice, but perhaps not worth waking up so early. Hard to say, not having seen other services. They were over at 11:30, which was later than we expected, so we would only have a couple hours to nap before getting ready for mincha and neila services, which started at most places around 3:15. But of course, I do not sleep. I lay in my bed and try, but fail.
I went to Yakar with Deena for the afternoon, which was fine, but not as great as I had hoped. A lot of Nativers went to the Kotel and either loved it or thought it was nothing special. After neila, we left, did our own Havdalah because it was already 5:52, and speed-walked to Beit Nativ to break the fast.
This was not a bad Yom Kippur at all. I did not get too hungry. I did not feel dehydrated. I did not get headaches. I did not feel too weak to move around. I don’t understand because I didn’t sleep much; had a cough (which I’ve had for a few days); and must have lost energy and water through singing, walking 45 minutes to and from one synagogue, and going up and down 3 flights of stairs around 6 times when at home I would have no such activity. Overall fantastic, at least by Yom Kippur standards.
Sunday, two sukkot were built between the old and new buildings. Nativers decorated them, and I’m eager to finally have the opportunity to sleep in one. I’m getting excited for Sukkot!
Trivia: Why is this blog titled as it is? I studied in my Talmud class that while one may put water or wine in a shofar (apparently to make the sound smoother), urine (or “mei raglaim,” which one may translate as “leg water”) may not be put in a shofar because it would be disrespectful. Who knew?
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