Saturday 30 September 2017

Yom Kippur

It's 11pm and I'm at Shepherd's Bush station. The platform is absolutely ram-packed with people, many of whom are doing some sort of tragic flash mob. They're playing Uptown Funk on impossibly loud speakers and the people around them are filming them on their mobile phones, whooping and cheering encouragingly. Without wanting to sound like a grumpy old fuddy-duddy, I could well do without it. I just don't think it's appropriate to clog up a tube station late at night, when people plainly just want to get home. By all means have your pop-up disco in a large space where those who want to join in are free to do so, but I'm tired and just not that into people making a racket like this. It feels a bit desperate if I'm honest, like all the noise is a product of them wanting the world to know how subversive and decadent they're being rather than a product of genuine fun. It's almost as though they need to make noise to convince themselves they're having fun. Horrible. It's raining, so everything is sticky and damp. I'm so claustrophobic I want to vomit...

... I am now on the tube train itself. The disco has followed me into the carriage, and loud, thumping music and the sounds of shrieking are destined to travel with me for the next half an hour. To make matters worse, the couple pressed up against me have just started snogging. It would be hard to imagine how much more horrifying this journey could get.

...At Tottenham Court Road I changed onto the Northern Line. Whilst standing in that station, they repeatedly made announcements quoting the somewhat ghastly attempt by Transport for London to urge us all to be vigilant in reporting suspicious packages and the like. It's all really "street" and plainly meant to get under the skin of young people, "see it, say it, sorted." My eyes hit the back of their sockets every time I read it or hear it being said.

I've spent the entire day today locked within the Victorian splendour of the New West End Synagogue. It's Yom Kippur, which means it's the final day of a series of religious festivals associated with the Jewish New Year. The service started at noon and finished at 8pm and we were singing almost constantly. It was an absolute roast. There was definitely an "in it together" war-time spirit vibe amongst my fellow singers, all of whom had also been singing at a marathon service for Kol Nidrei the night before. We sang well-over 300 pages of music.

I had a thoroughly lovely time. It is so nice to sing in a choir and be able to make music without the pressure of having had to organise everyone and deal with the high-maintenance behaviour of singers. I'm also thoroughly relieved to have done the gig. It's been hanging over my head for the last month and I've been terrified of learning so many pages of material. I am not unaware of the irony. Whinging to Michael about the difficulty of learning so much music in Hebrew is an example of the high-maintenance behaviour I find so difficult in others!

I am now home. My little canvas shoes are wet. Orthodox Jews are not allowed to wear leather or show dominance over animals on Kol Nidrei/ Yom Kippur, so we've been treated to the sight of men in suits all day, all of whom were wearing, trainers, deck shoes or slippers! It looks very comic.

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