Last Frankfurter Weekend and Yom Kippur

Like plans tend to do, this weekend was full of changing plans. It was our last weekend in Frankfurt, and last weekend to spend with the people I’ve met, and last calm weekend before my life plays fruit-basket-turnover again, so instead of traveling like crazy and seeing a whole bunch of stuff, we kind of played it cool.

The weather was beautiful, and the really cool thing about European culture is they do a lot of stuff outside in the city and just relax and enjoy themselves. Saturday and Sunday we ate lunch on the riverbank, laid in the sun, fed the swans, and unwound. The whole city was out and about because it was so gosh darn gorgeous, including some cool flea markets and lots of people on boats in the river.

I also went to a few museums too; Anna and Raoul bought a 2-day museum pass (Frankfurt has about 15-20 museums on about every subject imaginable, and for 10 euros you can buy a pass to go to them all) and the second day they took me along as their “daughter” as we visited the culture museum, film museum, and architecture museum. I got my culture for the week.

Saturday was Yom Kippur, so I decided to go to the synagogue here. It was my first time in an orthodox synagogue, much less a German orthodox synagogue on Yom Kippur, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Ashlee and the other Anna had never been to a synagogue and wanted to come with me, and I was really happy to bring them along except for the fact that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.

We went to the Westend Synagogue, the main temple in Frankfurt, and the one whose rabbi was stabbed a few weeks ago. (I haven’t heard anything since the incident, by the way, not even when we were here). I had no idea what time services started, but I had a feeling they started early and people would just show up when they got there, so I chose a nice round time of 10ish to arrive. As I expected, they had policemen out front who searched our bags before we went in. Once cleared we headed inside and upstairs to the women’s section because men and women are separated in orthodox services, and found services to be in full swing but the sanctuary was almost empty.

The inside was breathtaking. The bima and ark are huge with a giant mosaic wall and very ornate edging on everything. All seats are dark wood, and the ark probably had about eight different scrolls. The dome was the highlight, filled with a gradient blue mosaic that made it look twice as high and deep as it really is, and there was a giant crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the dome. The original synagogue was destroyed in the war and this one was rebuilt in the 1950s.

The service itself, in the beginning, was exactly as I expected. It was 100% in Hebrew, going page for page through the Siddur. The rabbi, cantor, and all the men prayed and sang more or less in unison, but not a single woman was praying or making any kind of sound. I chimed in when I knew the song, but I was the only one. There were some Hassids present as well, which was cool to watch them doven. As is common in all synagogues I’ve been to, there was also an underlying layer of chatting and small talk along with whatever was going on – that aspect was shocking to my guoyam friends, but I just had to chuckle and say “Jews love to talk!”

As the morning progressed more people started to come in, and by about 11:30 the women’s section was almost full. It coincided with the time when they took the Torah out of the ark, which in reform services means the long stretch is over and it’s getting close to the end – so I was slightly confused as to why everyone was showing up then. The strange thing, though, was what happened after they took the Torah around the room – there was a bit of down time while they got it back to the bima to read, and the now-full sanctuary exploded in chatter. Not so unusual yet - but they opened the scroll, the rabbi called the Aliyas, they read, and the chatter never stopped. The only way I knew the Torah was actually being read was by leaning over the railing and watching – I couldn’t hear anything. At an orthodox synagogue. I didn’t quite know how to process that.

By this time it was about noon, my friends were both having allergic reactions to the overwhelming amount of perfume present, and I knew the service wasn’t ending any time soon, so we decided to call it a day. Definitely a learning experience and an interesting trip.