More Jews!

Last night, for Erev Rosh Hashana, I went with Marina and her youngest son, Tommy, who's 12, to services before enjoying a delightful family meal at the Werthein house. When they go, which is rare, they go to the other Reform-esque synagogue in Buenos Aires. Although everyone calls it Templo Libertad, after the street on which it is found, the full name of the synagogue is CIRA, or the Congrecación Israelita de la Republica Argentina. I really like the word Israelita.

This is the oldest synagogue in BA, and the inside looks more like a church than what I've come to expect from a Jewish house of worship. It's big, and stone, with a domed ceiling and wooden pews. Still, it was magnificint in its austerity. Marina mentioned that until a few years ago it was significantly more conservative, with the mechitzah only being taken down four years ago.

This congregation seemed a bit more exclusive than Emanu-El, and in front of each seat was the name of the person who had reserved it, presumably based on the amount which that person contributed. The service itself was similar in concert-ness to the one I went to on Shabbat, with cordless microphones and continuous keyboard accompianament.

Dinner was great, back at the Werthein's most of Gabriel's family had converged, and the group totaled 25 people. Wine was served, although it seemed like I was the only person drinking, and somehow my cup was never empty. I guess it's one thing when it's your own family, but this was someone else's and everyone was speaking another language. I felt great being included and having somewhere to go, and Marina insisted I was the guest of honor, but it still would have been nice being in Villanova.

This morning I set my alarm for only the 2nd time in the two weeks I've been in Argentina, planning to check out the other services at Emanu-El and to get my year's fill of hearing the shofar blast. Arriving on time was certainly not required, although the service did start, but most people (including the senior rabbi, this I really did not understand) arrived at least 45 mintues into the service. Rather than being in the actual synagogue, the service was in a rented out convention center, and the room felt pretty cold. Unlike at Shabbat, no one introduced themselves to me, and the abundance of space allowed for no one to sit right next to me. I'm pretty sure I'm going to spend Kol Nidre back at Libertad with the Wertheins, because at least then I'll have someone to sit with.