If there's any good news that the coronavirus pandemic has brought with it for the ultra-Orthodox sector, it's in the world of matchmaking. The virus, and the economic crisis that came with it, has lowered the "prices" of eligible Orthodox bachelors by hundreds of thousands of shekels, and according to experts - that drop in prices is here to stay.
"In the Orthodox matchmaking world it is widely accepted to 'pay' well for an eligible groom," says Chaim, 22, a student at the Mir Yeshiva in Jerusalem, himself of matchmaking age. "The thing most of the serious prodigies ['iluim'] in the yeshivas want is a 'full deal', an all-encompassing arrangement. Meaning, a new apartment in a good location - Jerusalem or Bnei Brak - furniture and everything, without the groom needing to worry about all the economic stuff, so he can just study Torah quietly. The numbers skyrocketed, and of course only the wealthy could afford such a prodigy at those numbers."
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Those days ended when the pandemic started. Nowadays even the wealthy Orthodox are finding it difficult to spend more than a million shekels for a prodigy groom. "The grooms' market has witnessed a sharp economic downturn of hundreds of thousands of shekels a groom," says Eli Tsoran, 37, a veteran Orthodox matchmaker. "I believe this downturn won't be reversed any time soon. Once the prices went down, I'm not sure they'll go back to what they were."
According to Tsoran, many in the Orthodox community are happy with this apparent trend brought on by the virus. "The demand for huge amounts between the sides has become more balanced. Many families that asked for NIS 800,000 for an eligible groom are now talking about NIS 500,000. People understood that the sector needs to be more logical if they want to marry their kids.
"The virus has given hope to many families of lesser means to get a good match. The public understood that the world is fighting a pandemic, that is hurting families and taking people to another world, so all the financial management and demands have changed. And once the demands were lowered - they won't go back to what they were before the virus so fast. Many matches that are beginning now have started with more reasonable prices than before."
Just like in the secular dating world, the Orthodox matchmaking world has seen many changes during the pandemic. But in the case of this conservative sector, these are extreme changes that no one saw coming.
"The matchmaking market has changed in so many ways," says Sarah Pachter, who owns an ad agency in the Orthodox sector and is a mother of 11 children. "I'm not a professional matchmaker, but I meet with people in the sector and occasionally do some matchmaking. I've made 18 matches so far, including my son," she says.
Q: So what has changed since the pandemic began?
"The Orthodox matchmaking world was very rigid," says Pachter, "there was a certain way how each match advanced, how it progressed, where they met, etc. The virus shook that up, changed things, changes that, I hope, will remain for a long time.
"For example, the first meeting between young Orthodox people usually took place in the girl's home. During the pandemic no one wanted to enter a stranger's house, so the youngsters went alone to a park for the first date, and only after they were matched - their parents met on Zoom or talked on the phone.
"If not at a home, matchmaking meetings occurred before the pandemic in hotel lobbies, in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv. Now, without any other option, they meet in nature, open parks. There are many boys and girls who met this way in the past few months, and it only did them good. Even now, as restrictions are eased, this has remained. The market isn't as rigid as before."
According to Pachter, the most significant change recently has to do with what happens after the match is sealed, when the couple agree to marry. "Up until the pandemic, usually a race began that would last for three to four months to secure a large hall with at least 400-500 guests, and usually much more, a big band, a camera crew, decorations and everything.
"Suddenly now people have learned you can have small modest weddings in the yard of a home, or somewhere green, and it's just as pretty as a huge and crowded wedding - and also saves thousands of shekels if not more. Today I see people getting their children engaged, when there are already fewer restrictions, and they still aren't planning on huge weddings like before the pandemic. I hope it stays that way. It's a significant financial relief for many families with a lot of children."
Reuven Paul, 50, a well-known figure in the Orthodox sector and a veteran volunteer in the Hatzalah organization, get his son engaged three weeks ago during the peak of the virus. The whole matchmaking process took place during the pandemic.
"The custom is to have the first date in a hotel lobby, but since the hotels are closed, the dates were held in the home of an American family in Jerusalem, with a large garden, and there the couple felt free and relaxed. It was a good solution for all, they felt at ease in the garden," says Paul.
Paul says he's been speaking over the past few days with Orthodox friends, who like him are about to marry their children. "I have quite a few friends who got their kids engaged in recent weeks. I see some of them have internalized the virus and some haven't. Some still live in a bubble and think that the bigger the event they have - the more they will be 'worth'. Those kinds of people haven't changed, but I think most of my friends have. They're happy the Orthodox have realized that you can have different weddings, much more modest ones."
According to Paul, there's a sharp drop in wedding budgets, a result of the financial crisis the pandemic has caused. "The million-dollar question is will it stay like this next year and beyond. Personally, I think the economic shift in how events are held will remain. Even if the virus will disappear completely, people will continue to look, like me, for smaller and more familial places, to hold beautiful events in.
"Usually, when you have a huge wedding and forget to invite someone - he's insulted. You're always under pressure, who did I forget to invite? But when you have a 'corona wedding', it's not relevant anymore. Everyone knows why you didn't invite them, because you're having a small wedding with less family, and that's it. I think these weddings will catch on. There's something nice about a small wedding in a more relaxed setting."
"The virus simply opened up new channels in the brain. Up until the pandemic, even people who didn't have money would say 'I need to have a big wedding.' Today, even wealthy Orthodox say 'What do we need all of this for?'"
Tsoran the matchmaker agrees: "The financial crisis, in the current reality, has left many families with no income. Suddenly I'm hearing families tell me 'Let's do modest weddings with 50 people, what's wrong with that?' A wedding with a singer and keyboard instead of a band with seven horns, and in a marque or on a roof instead of a ritzy hall.
"What did one mother say to me? 'The young couple only need themselves at the wedding. The guests and all the hubbub around don't add a thing, it's just so the parents feel good. So it's better to have a small and modest event.'"
Dalia Kurtzweil, 43, is a Chabad emissary together with her husband in Dnipro, Ukraine. From there she works in matchmaking, mostly inside the Chabad community, with a resume chock full of matches. Now she believes the changes in the Orthodox matchmaking market during the pandemic will be the new norm.
Kurtzweil's job, especially these days, is more difficult than the usual Orthodox matchmaker, since a large part of matchmaking in the Chabad community is between Chabadnik families in various countries, when at times the young couple will be sent as emissaries to a third country. In the past few months, with international flight halted, the mission became even more challenging.
"And despite everything, it happens. There are match offers, and there are meetings between young Orthodox people from different countries - by Zoom or Whatsapp videos. True, it's not easy, and many would prefer a real meeting, but that's what we have right now, and many are doing it. Others ask to wait until this period is over.
"In Israel it's easier, because there were solutions for a real meeting during lockdown, as well. If one of the couple was, for example, an essential worker he could go to another city to meet, in the permitted fashion, of course."
Kurtzweil mentions another surprising advantage that appeared during the pandemic: "When everyone was locked up in the house and many didn't work, the young ones had more time to choose and check the match offers they got. It's a change that permeated because of the situation, and I hope it stays."
Q: Did families seal matches only through Zoom meetings?
"No. I don't know any couple who sealed a match only through Zoom. No one is expected to make a life-changing decision on a computer."
Q: Did you manage to "seal a match" during the pandemic?
"I got a few couples connected over the past few weeks, also from different countries, and they are in a process. But there are a lot of calls, certainly. People have changed their lives because of the coronavirus, they're less in the rat race, they're more available to hear about match offers. That was a big problem in the past, that people were so busy with work and career, they couldn't hear. Now, after sitting at home for so long, alone, they understand it might be time to hear some offers, to see what's out there.
"These times changed a lot for me. Until today I couldn't really meet the people I try to match, because of my living abroad, and it was all done by phone. Think about it: I barely knew who was on the other end of the line, and I was already offering matches. Since the pandemic, the Zoom calls for matchmaking became something reasonable, and now I meet every evening on video people who talk to me, tell me about themselves, their dreams and wishes of who to marry, and I feel them up close.
"I definitely feel the pandemic brought a lot of change to matchmaking: less technical name-sharing between possible candidates, and more emotional bonding between the matchmaker and the candidates, in a way that makes it easier for them to find a match. Even the candidates have more time to think about who they want to meet. They had a lot of time to feel lonely and in need, and I believe this will bring many of them to think differently, to agree to things they probably wouldn't have agreed to compromise on before when it comes to a partner. Now they look at things differently, they understand they're being offered lovely people, and it's a pity to be stubborn."
Chaim Scheller, a known matchmaking consultant in the modern Orthodox sector, which includes the national Orthodox and national religious, says the virus actually stopped the matchmaking in the public he works with. "This group is basically more open and relaxed, and the virus blocked them. You tell a yeshiva boy to meet by telephone or on an app, and for him it doesn't really work.
"So I waited for things to return to normal, so I could organize face-to-face meetings. I believe in real, in-person courting, and less so in phone calls or Zoom, which I believe lead to nothing. The possibility for a first meeting between humans doesn't happen in Zoom, just like learning through Zoom is nothing like it is in normal life. In matches like that the sides are just 'floating', they don't feel like it's a real meeting.
"But I did make a match during the pandemic, it started before, and was on solid footing. There was also another match I offered, who wanted to meet, but couldn't find where. So I organized especially for him a certain ice cream parlor to open up in Tel Aviv, so he could meet."
Q: If I understand correctly, there is a huge bottleneck of candidates in the modern Orthodox community that will open immediately when everyone gets on the market after the virus.
"That's an issue that bothers me, but don't forget that people are looking for the best, and it's a process that takes time, so there might not be a gridlock of Orthodox people waiting to get married. And I won't start to suddenly organize meetings now, after the virus, 900 couples at once. For me the pandemic was a time that let me get to know my clients better, to try and make matches and organize meetings that will take place now - with the return to normal."
Another innovation that came with the pandemic: "balcony matchmaking."
During the lockdown when meetings were forbidden, the Orthodox mind came up with creative solutions such as matches between neighbors in the same building. According to the Orthodox matchmakers, it's a trend that might continue after the pandemic. "People understand they don't always have to look far," says Pachter, "sometimes a match is on the other side of the door."
Pachter thinks the sector will see many more similar matches, even when things go back to normal. "Matches between neighbors were once less acceptable amongst the Orthodox, but the pandemic made us get used to quite a few new things."
Kurtzweil: "I also know a couple who live close by in Kfar Chabad and met in one of the grandparents' homes, in a quiet room. It was lovely. And there was another time two young neighbors, also from Kfar Chabad, that for some reason no one thought to match them, but now, after the pandemic opened people's minds, their acquaintances said: 'Why are we looking far?' - and they offered each other. And they sealed the match.
"The pandemic created a situation where people are willing to hear offers they may not have heard before. The young want to marry, and they have learned now to look for the more positive things in each other, and not the drawbacks."
