so angry is one word for it
Preface: This post is going to be about a bad experience I had with, specifically, the Orthodox Jewish establishment in Israel, which is technically the only kind of state-recognized Judaism there is here. This country sometimes, I swear.
A good friend of mine is getting married on Friday, and she asked me to go to mikveh with her last night.
A mikveh is, very much in brief, a public bath that women are supposed to immerse themselves once a month, 7 days after their period. Women are supposed to go for the first time as brides, as close to the wedding as possible, to purify themselves for their husbands to be.
Let's for a moment ignore the traditional meaning of the ritual and whether you agree with it or not. The very bottom line - it's supposed to be a positive experience. It's supposed to embody purity, cleanliness, blessing. If you are a Jewish woman getting legally married in Israel, you are in fact required to do it - an Orthodox rabbi, ie the only kind recognized by the state as having legal authority to perform weddings, will require the bride to give him a confirmation slip from the mikveh as proof that she's gone.
A lot of women - secular women, I'll add, don't have positive experiences with the mikveh, especially because they're forced to go. It's dirty, it's invasive, it's humiliating, it means being naked around strangers - these are all complaints I've heard, albeit not from women aho actively wanted to go. Still, it's why many brides will take the time to search for recommendation for more pleasant mikvehs - modern ones that might be more expensive but are also closer to a spa treatment.
Back to us: The rabbi performing the ceremony for my friend isn't an Orthodox rabbi. (And yes, that means that for the moment, their marriage won't be recognized in Israel.) He'a reform rabbi, a close friend of the family she's known all her life, and he's flying in from the States (where she grew up as well, adn where her family is) just to perform the ceremony. You don't have to go to mikveh, he told her; you can go to the beach with some friends in the ocean and that's valid too, if you want to go. She kind of did, but it's January, and even Israeli winters aren't that mild that you want to go skinnydipping in the ocean at night.
So she got a recommendation for a good, modern, pampering mikveh, set up an appointment 3 days before the wedding. An hour before the appointment she called again to make sure everything was good. They told her how to prepare, what to bring, and-- "Don't forget to bring the rabbi's note."
My friend didn't have a rabbi's note, she explained. When the mikveh lady understood the the wedding was going to be reform, she essentially disinvited my friend from coming. My friend was shocked, and ultimately decided she would just go and dip, without getting the traditional bridal blessings, but the lady told her not to. You can't come here. We don't do that. The end.
Despite being obviously hurt, my friend decided to just go to a different mikveh and dip normally, without telling them she's a bride so as to avoid this happening again. So we went. It was my first time at an active mikveh, and it was very nice - clean, heated, humid, cozy. There's an inner room that has the pool, and a soft, comfortable waiting room outside. The group was me, my friend, and her mother and sister.
The lady who greeted us was very nice and welcoming. You can put your stuff there, she said; come after me. What we hadn't considered, though, is that this was our first time at the mikveh, we didn't actually know what to do; and when my friend hesitated and asked who should come in with her, the lady's eyes lit up. "Oh! Are you a bride?"
And, you know. There's omission, but lying seems like a bit much. My friend nodded, and the lady was so happy congratulating her, and everything seemed fine until she asked for the note. My friend explained that she didn't have one because the rabbi was flying in from the States and wasn't here yet; the lady was uncomfortable and suspicious, and my friend ended up having to explain that the wedding party was in three days so it had to happen now, but there would be another ceremony with a rabbi in two months in the States, but it was important for her to do this in Israel. "I'm sorry, but you can't do the blessings," the lady told her. "You shouldn't dip now at all. It has no meaning now; you only need to be purified for your husband before the real wedding."
In the end, she told my friend she could go in, and to get ready. She told me friend to undress and wait; my friend went to the inner room, undressed, and waited as the lady stepped out to the waiting room and called her boss-rabbi on her cell.
Oh the phone, the mikveh lady explained the situation, and asked if she was allowed to give the blessing. She then went back to the inner room, and proceeded to have a five-minute phone call about this, including another exchange-argument with my friend, while my friend was standing there completely naked. Because that's how you do things, Jesus. Eventually, she reluctantly allowed my friend to immerse in the water, with none of the official rituals, and without the blessing.
So, you know. That was a nice little slap in the face for wanting to connect a little bit with your religion. Obviously our case was just one of many; there are so many people who wouldn't be allowed to go in - anyone who isn't eligible for marriage according to Orthodox Judaism, or anyone who doesn't want to undergo various humiliating tests to prove they're Jewish enough to marry. This isn't new. The mikveh thing, specifically - I was never aware of that being an issue, but you live, you learn, and my friend's certainly not the only one who went through this, apparently. But yeah, it's definitely fun to be turned away like that from a public mikveh built via state funding and having no alternatives (other than: pool. ocean. not going.) for anyone who is not taking the Orthodox route kjhgakgfdf.
To top off reasons it's fun being Israeli today:
-the day started with an attack on a bus in Tel Aviv, which thankfully for me I don't know anyone who takes that particular line to work in the mornings so I didn't have to be worried this morning
-said friend's finace was summoned to surprise!reserve duty today. The state can't draft you for ten days before and after your wedding so he's exempt, but his friends from the unit were also called and will have to miss the wedding.
Basically, things I am looking forward to tonight: catching up on Galavant. Parks & Rec. Amazing Race. Fic. Reliving gifs from last night's Blackhawks win (seriously, I can just rewatch this dip and hug gif loop for, like. An embarrassingly long time, let's call it that.) Hi escapism, I've missed you.
comments on Dreamwidth.
A good friend of mine is getting married on Friday, and she asked me to go to mikveh with her last night.
A mikveh is, very much in brief, a public bath that women are supposed to immerse themselves once a month, 7 days after their period. Women are supposed to go for the first time as brides, as close to the wedding as possible, to purify themselves for their husbands to be.
Let's for a moment ignore the traditional meaning of the ritual and whether you agree with it or not. The very bottom line - it's supposed to be a positive experience. It's supposed to embody purity, cleanliness, blessing. If you are a Jewish woman getting legally married in Israel, you are in fact required to do it - an Orthodox rabbi, ie the only kind recognized by the state as having legal authority to perform weddings, will require the bride to give him a confirmation slip from the mikveh as proof that she's gone.
A lot of women - secular women, I'll add, don't have positive experiences with the mikveh, especially because they're forced to go. It's dirty, it's invasive, it's humiliating, it means being naked around strangers - these are all complaints I've heard, albeit not from women aho actively wanted to go. Still, it's why many brides will take the time to search for recommendation for more pleasant mikvehs - modern ones that might be more expensive but are also closer to a spa treatment.
Back to us: The rabbi performing the ceremony for my friend isn't an Orthodox rabbi. (And yes, that means that for the moment, their marriage won't be recognized in Israel.) He'a reform rabbi, a close friend of the family she's known all her life, and he's flying in from the States (where she grew up as well, adn where her family is) just to perform the ceremony. You don't have to go to mikveh, he told her; you can go to the beach with some friends in the ocean and that's valid too, if you want to go. She kind of did, but it's January, and even Israeli winters aren't that mild that you want to go skinnydipping in the ocean at night.
So she got a recommendation for a good, modern, pampering mikveh, set up an appointment 3 days before the wedding. An hour before the appointment she called again to make sure everything was good. They told her how to prepare, what to bring, and-- "Don't forget to bring the rabbi's note."
My friend didn't have a rabbi's note, she explained. When the mikveh lady understood the the wedding was going to be reform, she essentially disinvited my friend from coming. My friend was shocked, and ultimately decided she would just go and dip, without getting the traditional bridal blessings, but the lady told her not to. You can't come here. We don't do that. The end.
Despite being obviously hurt, my friend decided to just go to a different mikveh and dip normally, without telling them she's a bride so as to avoid this happening again. So we went. It was my first time at an active mikveh, and it was very nice - clean, heated, humid, cozy. There's an inner room that has the pool, and a soft, comfortable waiting room outside. The group was me, my friend, and her mother and sister.
The lady who greeted us was very nice and welcoming. You can put your stuff there, she said; come after me. What we hadn't considered, though, is that this was our first time at the mikveh, we didn't actually know what to do; and when my friend hesitated and asked who should come in with her, the lady's eyes lit up. "Oh! Are you a bride?"
And, you know. There's omission, but lying seems like a bit much. My friend nodded, and the lady was so happy congratulating her, and everything seemed fine until she asked for the note. My friend explained that she didn't have one because the rabbi was flying in from the States and wasn't here yet; the lady was uncomfortable and suspicious, and my friend ended up having to explain that the wedding party was in three days so it had to happen now, but there would be another ceremony with a rabbi in two months in the States, but it was important for her to do this in Israel. "I'm sorry, but you can't do the blessings," the lady told her. "You shouldn't dip now at all. It has no meaning now; you only need to be purified for your husband before the real wedding."
In the end, she told my friend she could go in, and to get ready. She told me friend to undress and wait; my friend went to the inner room, undressed, and waited as the lady stepped out to the waiting room and called her boss-rabbi on her cell.
Oh the phone, the mikveh lady explained the situation, and asked if she was allowed to give the blessing. She then went back to the inner room, and proceeded to have a five-minute phone call about this, including another exchange-argument with my friend, while my friend was standing there completely naked. Because that's how you do things, Jesus. Eventually, she reluctantly allowed my friend to immerse in the water, with none of the official rituals, and without the blessing.
So, you know. That was a nice little slap in the face for wanting to connect a little bit with your religion. Obviously our case was just one of many; there are so many people who wouldn't be allowed to go in - anyone who isn't eligible for marriage according to Orthodox Judaism, or anyone who doesn't want to undergo various humiliating tests to prove they're Jewish enough to marry. This isn't new. The mikveh thing, specifically - I was never aware of that being an issue, but you live, you learn, and my friend's certainly not the only one who went through this, apparently. But yeah, it's definitely fun to be turned away like that from a public mikveh built via state funding and having no alternatives (other than: pool. ocean. not going.) for anyone who is not taking the Orthodox route kjhgakgfdf.
To top off reasons it's fun being Israeli today:
-the day started with an attack on a bus in Tel Aviv, which thankfully for me I don't know anyone who takes that particular line to work in the mornings so I didn't have to be worried this morning
-said friend's finace was summoned to surprise!reserve duty today. The state can't draft you for ten days before and after your wedding so he's exempt, but his friends from the unit were also called and will have to miss the wedding.
Basically, things I am looking forward to tonight: catching up on Galavant. Parks & Rec. Amazing Race. Fic. Reliving gifs from last night's Blackhawks win (seriously, I can just rewatch this dip and hug gif loop for, like. An embarrassingly long time, let's call it that.) Hi escapism, I've missed you.
comments on Dreamwidth.