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A Ritual of Repentance in A Parking Lot
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Behind one of the low tables, Rabbi Yaakov Cohen prepared for visitors, whose ranks swelled as the day of atonement approached. The old and infirm, young and grossed out, giddy tourists and watchful rabbis, generations of pious families and silent solo worshipers -- all filed through the frequently hosed-down parking lot.
With a bushy white beard, rimless glasses and bloodstained blue smock, Cohen is a 30-year veteran of the chicken sacrifice. He wielded his straight razor with the deftness of a sushi chef, running it quickly over the chickens' throats, then tossing the birds headfirst into the funnels.
"Who else, who else?" Cohen called out.
Rabbi Zakaria Fedley, a short man in a broad-brim hat, watched Cohen at work. Fedley, an inspector on the lookout for dull blades, asked Cohen to hand over his razor after several minutes.
Slowly, Fedley passed his fingernail along its length, nodded and handed it back to Cohen, who turned back to the growing line in front of him. At its head was Oimer Furmanski, 46, with six of his eight children in tow.
A rabbi himself, Furmanski pushed the sleeves of his white shirt and black coat up to his elbows; he was another veteran and it showed.
Furmanski handed a bird to Cohen, who drew his razor across its neck and tossed it into a funnel. Only it popped out, flailing for a few moments on the asphalt.
A 5-year-old boy stared at the bright patch of red on the wet asphalt, a few tears of fear on his face. He calmed down quickly until Cohen, a chicken in hand, appeared from behind his table with bloody baggies over his shoes, a stained smock and a "What are you afraid of?" smile on his wide face.
The boy burst into tears again, consoled quickly by his smiling mother.
Nearby, another mother and her three daughters prayed together, lit by the amber sun. A young man rocked in prayer beneath a dangling chicken along one table, and through the gate a fresh batch of tourists appeared, boys with "Abercrombie" T-shirts and skullcaps. Cellphones flipped open, photos shot and sent.
