After supper, my family and I head downstairs to the synagogue at the House of a Hundred Grandmothers. Purim has begun. It's time for the ceremonial reading of Megillat Esther, the Book of Esther.
There aren't many men there. Even with several visitors, we still have to rustle up a minyan of ten.
The women's section, however, is crowded. All the chairs that have been set out are occupied. Wheelchairs fill much of the rest of the space. Walkers and the wheelchairs create a traffic jam getting into and out of the synagogue. When enough people gather, they always do.
Some of the House staff are there, handing out groggers1, as well as beautifully illustrated pamphlets of the text and relevant blessings.
Once everyone's there, a member of the staff introduces what's going to happen. She thanks the guest from Chabad who will be doing the reading.
The reader chants the opening blessings and starts the reading itself. Like the Torah, it's read from a scroll. Unlike, the Torah, the scroll is folded rather than rolled, as if it were a letter being read.
The reading is simple, without either the pomp or forced revelry I remember from the readings in the States. It helps that just about everyone can read along and understands what's being said. No one has to translate or explain what we're hearing.
The melody of the reading seems a bit more ornate than Torah readings. It may be that the tropes for reading this text are more melismatic.2 The reader chants a bit more slowly and more clearly than I'm used to, which helps bring this out. I also have the sense that, from what I can read and remember, more of the words have fancy tropes than usually occur.
Almost everyone has groggers. We swirl or rattle them at the appropriate points. Other people stomp their feet. It all makes a massive racket.
There's a bit of a mix-up at the end. The staff member gets up and starts to announce the additional reading tomorrow while, behind her, the reader launches into one more blessing. The women wave at the staff member. She realizes what has happened and pauses while the last blessing is chanted. No crisis. Everything gets sorted out amiably.
When it's done, we hand back our groggers and texts. We walk or roll out to the lobby, where the staff has set out grape juice and hamantaschen. The reader performs the brief Havdalah ceremony now that Shabbat has ended. I'm not sure what he's doing at first, since his tradition uses a much longer text than I'm used to.
