Dovid and I have spent Shabbos in the southern Irish city of Cork.
The history of its Jewish community is an old and fascinating one, and there is a well-placed 19th-century synagogue near the city center. In the absence of a permanent rabbi it has been diligently upheld by a communal leader in recent years, despite the unfortunate fact that the community is in decline.
On Friday afternoon we took a taxi from our hotel to the synagogue, driven by an affable, heavy-set Irishman who provided us with a most entertaining monologue, covering a broad range of topics from the Queen's recent visit to the legendary history of the city's breweries.
We arrived at the synagogue, a dignified house of worship though not excessively grand. The smell of ancient books pervaded the air as we waited for our acquaintances to arrive for the Friday evening services and Kiddush which we had arranged.
Although we were a little short of a minyan, we were happy that all those we had invited had managed to come. Over some sweet wine and a few bites we enjoyed the privilege of meeting these precious people and sharing some words of inspiration. They told us that during these summer months, in the absence of any Jewish students from the University College of Cork, getting a minyan is a particularly significant challenge.
We did enjoy the long Shabbos afternoon by walking Cork's narrow streets, which displayed a strong historic character. As we have so often on this trip, we exchanged pleasantries with curious onlookers, non of whom were Jewish but some of whom considered us to be Amish.
Before and after Shabbos, we drove around Cork's surrounding area and made a number of home visits. Each told another story; offered a unique experience.
I do hope that Cork does not evolve into another Ballarat; home of a once thriving synagogue now frozen in perpetual obsolescence. I pray that the synagogue can still fill its pews in coming years; that it can still host a minyan within its humble walls. I can't help but imagine how important a role the city's Jewish students will play in this.
For now, however, it seems that the community is experiencing something of a minor hiatus - not its twilight years, G-d forbid, but a hiatus - nothing other than a momentary northern summer's night in a long, shining history of Jewish activity.
The history of its Jewish community is an old and fascinating one, and there is a well-placed 19th-century synagogue near the city center. In the absence of a permanent rabbi it has been diligently upheld by a communal leader in recent years, despite the unfortunate fact that the community is in decline.
On Friday afternoon we took a taxi from our hotel to the synagogue, driven by an affable, heavy-set Irishman who provided us with a most entertaining monologue, covering a broad range of topics from the Queen's recent visit to the legendary history of the city's breweries.
We arrived at the synagogue, a dignified house of worship though not excessively grand. The smell of ancient books pervaded the air as we waited for our acquaintances to arrive for the Friday evening services and Kiddush which we had arranged.
Although we were a little short of a minyan, we were happy that all those we had invited had managed to come. Over some sweet wine and a few bites we enjoyed the privilege of meeting these precious people and sharing some words of inspiration. They told us that during these summer months, in the absence of any Jewish students from the University College of Cork, getting a minyan is a particularly significant challenge.
We did enjoy the long Shabbos afternoon by walking Cork's narrow streets, which displayed a strong historic character. As we have so often on this trip, we exchanged pleasantries with curious onlookers, non of whom were Jewish but some of whom considered us to be Amish.
Before and after Shabbos, we drove around Cork's surrounding area and made a number of home visits. Each told another story; offered a unique experience.
I do hope that Cork does not evolve into another Ballarat; home of a once thriving synagogue now frozen in perpetual obsolescence. I pray that the synagogue can still fill its pews in coming years; that it can still host a minyan within its humble walls. I can't help but imagine how important a role the city's Jewish students will play in this.
For now, however, it seems that the community is experiencing something of a minor hiatus - not its twilight years, G-d forbid, but a hiatus - nothing other than a momentary northern summer's night in a long, shining history of Jewish activity.
Maytah, I'll tell you what, alright, thish ij the good shtuff, alright mayt?
ReplyDeleteIn regardj to that uthuh shtuff, yeh, I found out whij jokuh was poshting shtuff unduh my name, yeah, so mayt, I'm told him, yeah, alright mayt, don't dew shtupid shtuff like that, alright, ok mayt, or I'll kickboksh your bloody head in, ok mayt
Okay mayt yep
DeleteGood Lord, man, it seems that confounded Stavros has logged into my account on the world wide web and posted things on my behalf again.
ReplyDeleteI pine for the day when a gentleman can take his midday tea without having to worry that his manservant has gotten into the ouzo supply and, having found his head suddenly full of confounded ideas, has gotten up to all sorts of mischief.
What I do gather that the daft native was trying to say is that the devious impersonator of the other post on your quite lovely weblog has been identified and confronted. In a pitiful scene of tears that made me wince, he admitted to the error of his ways and said that those dark paths are behind him, and he has no wish to tread their dangerous ways again.
As for you, my dear Spud J., it was jolly good to see that you have put the old nib to paper again. I say!
Thank you ever so kindly, and I am most awfully sorry for that spot of bother you've found yourself in... ah well, never mind.
Delete