Day 2 in New York City

This was definitely my favorite day of the entire trip to New York City. In the morning, we hoofed it to the Lower East Side, where Yiddish in America once flourished. It was really interesting to walk into the Lower East Side from the subway with that image in mind. The neighborhood is so different now. There are a few remnants of immigrant Jews, but most of the signs are Chinese/English amalgams. Very little evidence of the Yiddish world in America still exists in that area. Nevertheless, what does still exist in the Lower East Side gave me a little taste of what life in New York was like for Eastern European Jews.

Our first stop was the Eldrigde Street Synagogue, the first Eastern European Jewish Congregation in the United States. I had heard a little bit about this place on NPR. For many years, it was in a state of disrepair. Although people still attended the shul for worship, the upstairs was literally collapsing. After many years and much hard work, a group of dedicated donors and the city of New York fully restored it and opened it to the public for viewing.

It was certainly unlike most of the synagogues that I have ever seen. The architecture reminded me a lot of the basilicas I saw in Italy when I was there in high school. The building wasn't shaped like a cross, of course, but the columns, the stained glass, and the artwork on the ceiling were reminiscent of that style. As it turns out, the Eldrige Street Synagogue was modeled after Eastern European places of worship. There was really no distinction between Jewish, Christian, Catholic, etc. It was simply the way that places of worship were designed.

I won't post all of my pictures, but I'll give a small sampling. This was a view from upstairs. The lighting was kind of dim, but it was probably intentional. One of the obligations of historical preservation is to be as loyal to the original conditions of the building as possible. In the early 20th century, the building would have had (I think) alcohol burners in the chandelier. It is doubtful that it would have been much brighter than it was the day we were inside. It is certain, however, that it would have been much, much warmer.

The synagogue had a lot of character. It was clear to me that, in spite of the harsh conditions and poverty that Jews met in America, they made it a priority to build something beautiful in which to rejoice. At the same time, it was not ostentatious like many of the contemporary synagogues I have seen.

Hand carved stand on the pulpit.

Stars and a stained glass Star of David on the ceiling.

After the visit there, we took a walking tour of the Lower East Side. Fortunately and unfortunately, our tour guide was very enthusiastic about providing us a detailed history, much of which we just got from our readings for class. We heard a lot of details about the things we saw, but I found myself wanting to see more and do more walking at the end of the 2-hour tour. Thankfully, we did manage to see some very neat things along the way.

The most exciting stop on the tour was the building for the Forverts, the (I believe) longest running Yiddish language newspaper in the United States. Nowadays, I suspect that they have a larger circulation of their English language version, The Jewish Daily Forward. Despite a dwindling audience, they still publish their Yiddish paper.I doubt you can see it from this admittedly crappy photo, but if you click on it, you might notice that on the top of the building, there is Yiddish script that reads " פֿאָרווערטס " and the FORWARD painted on the side of the building. It was bigger than any of the surrounding buildings.

The true peak of my Lower East Side experience came at the very end. With 30 minutes to shovel food down our throats before we had to meet up with the group that didn't go on the tour, we stumbled into an authentic Jewish Lower East Side dining establishment.

(Photo credit to my friend, Julie)

That's me in the middle, standing between my friends and housemates, Rachel (left) and Sam (right). I think that the signs in the windows can really speak to the spirit of the place. [Oh yeah, side note for those who might be shocked to see this picture: I cut off 10 inches of hair and donated it to Locks of Love before I left for New York. After donating a foot about 4 years ago, I swore I'd never do it again. So much for that...]

Since it was a dairy kosher restaurant, they didn't serve meat, which made me pretty happy. I ordered something that I heard called "Mock Chop"--meatless chopped liver. I've never particularly wanted to eat the real thing, so having the vegetarian version was authentic enough for me. The food was good, but the people sitting in the restaurant were even better. Some of the interns sat and chatted with some of the Yiddish-speaking regulars. One of the men sitting there got up and tried to summon one of his (far less interested) friends, excitedly spreading the news: "Did you hear that? These kids are learning Yiddish!" One was a Holocaust survivor. Another was a 98 year old man from outside of Minsk who, in spite of his feeble body (he had his caretaker with him), was completely sound of mind. I wish I could have more fully participated in the conversation, but it was really enjoyable to simply listen, too.

As thrilling as it was to watch members of my generation connect with the past, there was something also sobering about the experience. Though we are learning Yiddish, there is something entirely inauthentic about it. The bygone days of Yiddishkeit will never be truly recreated. I may be able to speak more of the language with further study, but even if I were to achieve fluency, I would still be an outsider, a member of the audience. The last vestiges of this culture were sitting in that deli, and are still sitting in delis in other corners of the world. At least I can say I played a minute part in experiencing it and that I am playing a larger role in preserving its memory.