Friday, May 28, 2004
Four months ago, when I was procrastinating the packing process for my semester abroad, I never dreamed my Cape Town adventure would be so full of cheesecake. I spent the holiday of Shavuot in an area called Sea Point, sandwiched, as many things are in this place, between mountain and ocean. Most of Cape Town’s Jews stay in Sea Point. I don’t know if it was because of the people walking around with kippot or the hills speckled with lights, but there were moments I felt like I was in Jerusalem. I stayed with a family called the Orelowitz’s. The mother, Sandy, is originally from Canada. The father, Jerry, is a Judaic Studies teacher at Herzelia, Cape Town’s Jewish High School. Sandy and Jerry have a son Daniel, who is exactly my age. Go libras! They also have a daughter Debbie, who is in Grade 11. They live in a flat a few blocks from the Arthur’s Road Synagogue, which boasts the city’s most extensive “brachas” (or post-service snack-fests).
The synagogue had a range of programming for Shavuot, the holiday that celebrates, commemorates and re-enacts the events at Mount Sinai, when Moses received the Torah. It is traditional for people to stay up all night studying words of and about Torah. The synagogue had a session called “The Community Speaks” in which different members of the congregation, of all ages and genders gave some thoughts on text. There was also a “Great, Late Debate” at midnight, on the topic of AIDS prevention and Jewish law, which evolved into bantering about whether or not Herzeliah should have condom dispensers for its students, for the sake of saving lives.
The observance of Shavuot can be a nightmare for the lactose intolerant and the vegans among us, as it is traditional to consume copious amounts of dairy products. The synagogue had a pancakes and waffles and ice cream and create-your-own-cheesecake session for all the children, which included any one under the age of 96. There was a community theatre piece about passing the Torah on to “the next generation”, led by one of the Rabbis in Moses garb. There was a hearty lunch for the B’nei Akivah kids, the Orthodox youth group. Turns out the advisor, Saul, was a counselor at Camp Morasha a few summers ago, just a few miles down the road from my beloved Camp Ramah. Perhaps we waited on line together to watch the pig races at the Wayne County fair.
The congregation was incredibly welcoming. Though I feel strongly about egalitarian practice in Judaism, I was able to enjoy the rich voices of the laymen leading the services. The synagogue was set up Sephardic style, with the main events happening in the middle, on the men’s side, but at least the mehitzah (the curtain separating men and women) was a translucent white, mesh.
The second night, I slept soundly. I dreamt I tried to get on a train home and all I had in my pocket were rand, no American dollars or cents. After the holiday ended, I got a ride to Camps Bay, the next town over, for a women’s study session of The Book of Ruth, in honor of Shavuot. There were about 16 varieties of cheesecake. I spent a long time talking to a woman named Zmirah about the politics of Jewish and feminist identities in South Africa. We talked about how fundamentalism chokes creativity. And I emerged with a rejuvenated respect for the conservative movement and its commitment to grappling with tradition and change. Still, it’s amazing to note the number of cultural commonalities across continents and denominations, such as buffet line etiquette (or lack thereof). I am very grateful for the hospitality, hugs and cheesecake I received over the past few days.
The synagogue had a range of programming for Shavuot, the holiday that celebrates, commemorates and re-enacts the events at Mount Sinai, when Moses received the Torah. It is traditional for people to stay up all night studying words of and about Torah. The synagogue had a session called “The Community Speaks” in which different members of the congregation, of all ages and genders gave some thoughts on text. There was also a “Great, Late Debate” at midnight, on the topic of AIDS prevention and Jewish law, which evolved into bantering about whether or not Herzeliah should have condom dispensers for its students, for the sake of saving lives.
The observance of Shavuot can be a nightmare for the lactose intolerant and the vegans among us, as it is traditional to consume copious amounts of dairy products. The synagogue had a pancakes and waffles and ice cream and create-your-own-cheesecake session for all the children, which included any one under the age of 96. There was a community theatre piece about passing the Torah on to “the next generation”, led by one of the Rabbis in Moses garb. There was a hearty lunch for the B’nei Akivah kids, the Orthodox youth group. Turns out the advisor, Saul, was a counselor at Camp Morasha a few summers ago, just a few miles down the road from my beloved Camp Ramah. Perhaps we waited on line together to watch the pig races at the Wayne County fair.
The congregation was incredibly welcoming. Though I feel strongly about egalitarian practice in Judaism, I was able to enjoy the rich voices of the laymen leading the services. The synagogue was set up Sephardic style, with the main events happening in the middle, on the men’s side, but at least the mehitzah (the curtain separating men and women) was a translucent white, mesh.
The second night, I slept soundly. I dreamt I tried to get on a train home and all I had in my pocket were rand, no American dollars or cents. After the holiday ended, I got a ride to Camps Bay, the next town over, for a women’s study session of The Book of Ruth, in honor of Shavuot. There were about 16 varieties of cheesecake. I spent a long time talking to a woman named Zmirah about the politics of Jewish and feminist identities in South Africa. We talked about how fundamentalism chokes creativity. And I emerged with a rejuvenated respect for the conservative movement and its commitment to grappling with tradition and change. Still, it’s amazing to note the number of cultural commonalities across continents and denominations, such as buffet line etiquette (or lack thereof). I am very grateful for the hospitality, hugs and cheesecake I received over the past few days.
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