A visit to the Jewish Quarter of Amsterdam

My new friend Femmy offered to go with me to the Jewish museum this afternoon if I could wait until she returned from church.  I had every intention of arising at a reasonable hour so that I could wander about.  My intentions, however, were not realized.

I wrote late into the night last night and then tried reading until my eyes were tired.  By the time I finally turned out the light, it was almost 2 a.m. local time.  Not an auspicious start to my sleeping hours.  My trick for falling asleep is to recite the story of Jane Eyre to myself.  I can tell how difficult my night is going to be by how far in to the story I get.  I managed to make it to the story of Mason being attacked by his sister.  That's pretty far into it.

Once I fell asleep, it was a sound sleep.  The only problem is, I didn't wake until after 11 a.m.  Yikes.

Femmy came around 1 and asked if I could give her an hour and then we'd be off, and thus we were.

We took the #14 tram (at a cost of 2,80 Euro to Waterlooplein and walked a short distance to the Jewish museum, housed in the old Great Synagogue.

I had a funky angle here--this is the Magen David.

Oh...did I mention it was raining cats and dogs?  I tried using Femmy's umbrella to compensate for my not-so-waterproof raincoat, but check out the fate of these umbrellas.

The 12 Euro ticket gave me access to this museum pictured earlier, as well as the still functioning Portuguese Synagogue across the street.  Additionally, there was a photo exhibit in the lower level featuring photographs, clothing, video and a few other artifacts from Antwerp's Chassidim.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.  The photos were really interesting--check out these beauties (don't mind the flash):

The caption for this one explained that these boys were thronging the vending machine for kosher after school snacks.

The father of this family is about to swing these chickens around his head to transfer  his (and his family's?) sins to the chicken before the day of Atonement. I prefer our Tashlich service myself "wherein we symbolically cast our sins into the water and leave our old shortcomings behind us, thus starting the new year with a clean slate."

 These two photos feature children dressed for Purim.

I love the little ladybug and her brother, Napoleon.

 But I also loved the clothing display and explanation.

There was a helpful key explaining the nuanced variations in hats, wigs and coats.  I love the shtreimels (second from left in the top photo), although I can't imagine anyone I know wearing one.  The wigs, on the other hand, do not impress me.  I see them and I just think, "hot".

This exhibit also had kiosks with information and video clips from a 1990s film on the Haredi of Antwerp.

The still image above is hard to make out, but it was part of a marriage ceremony.  I have another still from that film which speaks volumes.

The rabbi on the right holds a ribbon which "connects" him to the bride.  He's dancing around and she's just standing there looking mortified.

This exhibit didn't take terribly long to peruse--probably about a half hour.  From there I headed upstairs to the Great Synagogue.

It was packed with Judaica and stories about Amsterdam's Jews.  There were numerous megillot, etc., etc.

I really loved some of the fine paintings.

There were also some modernistic pieces of home Judaica, such as this Havdalah set,

this clock

and this Seder plate.

 This grogger really caught my eye.

It means business!

The upstairs display focused on what it meant to be a Jew in the Netherlands.  Although the Jews enjoyed relative freedom to practice their religion (particularly in contrast to Spain and Portugal during the Inquisition), Jews were not permitted entry to many professions as deemed by guild practice.  Some Jews were able to thrive, but many were very, very poor--particularly the Ashkenazi from Eastern Europe.

I found this image by Rembrandt to be quite impressive.

This is Manessa ben Israel, the so-called "mouthpiece of the Jews".  His family emigrated to the Netherlands in 1604, the year of his birth.  He became a rabbi and printer.

There's much more in this exhibit.  The next room focused on the 20th century.  This display caught my attention.

This was a wall of glass cubes featuring modern images of Amsterdam's Jews.  I thought it was very engaging.

The rest of this room told the story of Dutch Jews in the 20th century.  It's often a tale of tragedy.  Before the war, there were more than 130,000 Jews living in the Netherlands.  After the war, there were only 30,000 Jews remaining. Around 25,000 Jews went in to hiding, and 18,000 survived the war.  Much of the display focused on how hard it was to rebuild their lives in the face of so many Jews having been sent to the transit camp Westerbork, and from there to the death camps of Auschwitz and Sobibor, as well as Bergen Belsen and Terezin.  Still, many of the Dutch came to the aid of their Jewish neighbors and friends and sought to provide them shelter during the war and aid after the war.  It's a complicated story.

The last part of this visit took me to the Portuguese Synagogue across the street.

Unlike the sumptuous synagogues of Prague, this one (still in use to this day) is downright austere.  There's no heating or electric lights in the synagogue proper.

Not only do you see candleabra, you also see candles in the pews.

 There's also a burning candle in the Ner Tamid (the eternal light) in the lower left of this photo.

I found a tallis (prayer shawl) in the seat of the pews.

The most surprising aspects (other than the lack of heat and electricity) were the couches by the ark (where the Torah scrolls are kept),

Special guests may sit on these couches during Simchat Torah, but that does not mean politiciams.

and this wooden chuppah (wedding canopy).

The chuppah was built by the bride's father in the 1950s.  She was a survivor of the concentration camps.  Her husband had also suffered during the war.  It must weigh a ton, literally!

The synagogue was built in 1675.  It's amazing that it is still in use.  It is surrounded by one story level apartments containing the book shop, a mourner's room, study rooms, etc.

The museum was getting ready to close by the time I crossed the street to find Femmy in the coffee shop, so we suited up and headed out to explore the rest of the quarter.

This image took me by surprise.  When I saw it, I thought, "how cute!"

Femmy asked if I knew what it meant.  Obviously, I didn't.  She informed me that this is an image which is placed on spots where great violence had occurred. 

Fortunately, we ended our evening on a much more positive note--Supper!

I recommend the Blauwberg cafe!