An Israeli organization has built a 2,000-seat synagogue, two ritual baths and a vast dining hall. Ukrainian officials now close off the pilgrimage zone, provide military guards and even invite Israel to send police for linguistic and cultural mediation. Inside, a few of the fortunate can rent a room whose windows reveal the perpetual tumult surrounding his grave. Bratslav Hasidim know him as the rebbe who will drag a man out of hell by his ears, if the man will only come to Uman to repent and recite psalms. Cans and plastic bottles dangle from the rafters on lengths of twine, collecting coins for un-stated, perhaps improvised, charities.
Towels damp from ritual baths hang from the walls.
Turn left off Pushkin. The synagogue, two years old and already crumbling, overflows, a sea of rumbling, flailing bodies. An accountant points out the entertainment executive who discovered Madonna. About 500 Jews still live in Uman. Some of the old folks drift down Pushkin with stories and documents.