Every year during the three weeks leading up to Tisha B’Av, we enter a period of mourning.  We start with a few restrictions during the 3 weeks, adding more during the 9 days, and finally entering full mourning on Tisha B’Av itself.

One of these restrictions is that we are not permitted to listen to music.  Although there are different opinions as to what is music, or when we are allowed/not allowed to listen to it, most rabbis seem to agree that it is ok to listen to vocal music (“a capella”) during the 9 days leading up to Tisha B’Av.  This restriction on music is to help us get into the spirit of mourning – it is often difficult to mourn when we hear music.  Most music is joyous (in fact, this is a crucial aspect of the meaning of “shira,” the Hebrew word for music), so we cannot listen to it.  However, vocal music is permitted by most rabbis.

Rabbi Ben and I are friends with a well-known Jewish musician named Ari Goldwag.  He has produced a song and a video to help us get into the spirit of the 9 days.  The reason the Holy Temple was destroyed was because of sinas chinam, or baseless hatred.  If we are really mourning it, if we really want it back, we have to earn it by doing the exact opposite.  We must show baseless love to our fellow Jew! One way to do this is to give charity.  In this way we realize that we are no better or more important than someone who is poor.  In fact, we are all poor now because we do not have the Holy Temple any longer.

Please take a moment and watch the video at the link below and think about doing some acts of kindness for others during these 9 days leading up to Tisha B’Av!

Watch Ari Goldwag’s song and video for the 9 Days HERE!

Rebbetzin Rachel and her friend Lisa, who hosted us for Shabbos

We spent Shabbat in Richmond, Virginia. This was my second time there. My first time in Richmond was around a year ago for Shabbat Selichot, the Shabbat before Rosh Hashana. I led the service than and over this past Shabbat.

I feel the community is very warm and welcoming.  There seems to be a good mix of all types of Jews, from the ultra orthodox black hat wearers to some who come to Synagogue in a pair of shorts and sandals.

There is no Rabbi there now, though I hear that a new Rabbi is coming in the next few weeks.

Especially enjoyable was lunch at a friend’s home where most of the vegetables in the salads came from their garden. The difference in taste between home-grown organic to what is bought in the local supermarket is a world apart.

I spoke during Seudah Shlishi because it was sponsored in our honor by our host family. I spoke about the Jewish people traveling and how they moved and camped according to the direction that G-d showed them . I reflected this back to my travels: how I try and travel with G-d’s direction.

In an Indian market, cars and people are forced to go around the cows and pigs, which don't bother to move.

When I was traveling in India, I once had an argument with a friend.  I had made a comment about how so many things in India are, well… lazy.  I didn’t mean it in any disrespectful manner, it was simply an observation about a place in the world where the cows stand around in the middle of the street, goats lounge around in the marketplace, and even the people are often seen to be relaxing and drinking chai at any hour of the day.  I didn’t mean it in a bad way; if anything I was amused; I was laughing, smiling.  Plus, if I made this comment to any of the other backpackers I met in my travels, they would laugh heartily at the truth of it.

A friend of mine, who is Indian by culture but who has never visited the country of her parents’ birth, took this to extreme offense.  In her mind, me calling anything this incredible and industrious nation lazy was the most extreme of insults.  This confused me: having traveled all over the world, I have never in my life seen farm animals chewing their cud in the middle of a busy highway before, not bothered to move at all.  So I called up a friend of mine who is Indian and who was born and raised in Delhi.  Her opinion of it? Not offensive; simply sad.  I was traveling in mostly poor areas of India (well, let’s be frank, that’s most of India) and I had never experienced the side of Indian life that she did, with the fancy gated house and personal chauffeur that she grew up with.  It’s a different world!

So how is it that the selfsame comment made in a spirit of pure wonderment and observation could be received, in turns, as hilarious, offensive, and disappointing?  It’s an important lesson in perspective and that’s what I chose to take away from it.  Sometimes we say things and we don’t know how they will be received.  We mean something one way but it’s taken a totally different way.  The Torah teaches us that we are responsible for the words we say and the impact they have, even if it’s not how we intended it.  In Torah, it’s not always the thought that counts – if we hurt someone, we are responsible and it’s up to us to apologize and ask forgiveness, no matter how right or wrong we think the other person is to feel that way.

So when I read Rabbi Ephraim Schwartz’s d’var Torah this week, it really struck a nerve with me. This week’s Torah portion, he points out, begins with a recounting of all the places the Jews visited on their trip through the desert.  Forty years’ worth of history leading up to their entry into the land of Israel.  Why is this list so important? Because it is each “place” we visit in life that colors our perspective on life, shapes us, and helps us become who we are.  How can we understand who the Jews were as they entered Israel, if we don’t know where they’ve been and what they’ve been through?  You can’t really understand a person’s actions and reactions until you fully understand their unique life journey.

These two cows don't seem to be bothered by the cars and busses going by. I watched them alternately walk and stand in the road for a long time, never once bothering to move out of the way of the many vehicles and people that had to dodge them.

Ultimately, that’s what happened with my friends and their three radically different responses to my statement.  The backpackers laughed because they, too, had spent the last few months traveling in India and seeing the way it works, with the bovines in the streets too lazy in the hot, humid haze to move, even in the face of oncoming trucks – a common and comic sight.  My friend from back home reacted based on her cultural pride and her love of national origin, tinged with romance and backed by a life of relative luxury lived entirely in the first world.  My other friend reacted with sadness because, having grown up in India she knows the truth of the observation, but also because, having grown up in the upper class, she was always on the inside, looking out. And me? This entire incident became another stop on my journey through life, another lesson learned, another teaching integrated into my life and my perspective.

As we continue to journey through each of our lives, let’s stop and reflect for a moment on past stops we’ve made, both good and bad, and consider how they’ve helped make us who we are.  And in doing so, let us focus on gaining perspective about ourselves and about others and the journeys they, too, have made.

SHABBAT SHALOM!

Bolivia children working in mines

This morning I was doing some research on some companies’ stock that deal in mining and I thought of my mining experience in Bolivia.

I did a tour of some mines in Bolivia, which I don’t recommend for the claustrophobic. My guide first took me to buy bottles of sugary juice and coca leaves to gift to the miners. It was not a touristy thing where one pays an entrance fee. These were real mines with real people working in them. It was dangerous.  Some of the areas we went through would not be safe enough by law to operate in any developed country, let alone take a tourist through.

The workers were friendly and appreciated the drinks and coca leaves. The coca leaves alleviate their pain and discomfort and the drinks quench their constant thirst. I met workers as young as 12 years old working in the mines.  “It is dangerous work,” they told me, “and all of us have friends who died.”

One of the highlights: My guide took me to a shop that sold everything a miner needs (including 98% proof alcohol, for consumption). I bought a stick of dynamite and fuse, for only $1.50. My guide showed me to an empty field where we lit the dynamite. Two minutes later there was a big ‘BOOM,’ a nice treat for the pyromaniac inside of me.

The working conditions are extremely unhealthy and hazardous. Having met the boys working in the mines of Bolivia and experienced crawling through passageways that can give in at any moment, I came to a deeper appreciation of how lucky we are for the life we live and how much more I should give thanks to G-d.

A Purim party at B'nei Israel in Norfolk

Norfolk, Virginia is not exactly a place known for its religious Jews.  It’s popular for its seafood, for its Navy connections, and for the beaches of nearby Virginia Beach – hardly a very kosher host of superlatives.  Yet, Norfolk is home to two thriving orthodox Jewish communities (as well as an enormous conservative synagogue) and even boasts of having an eruv. And even if there’s no kosher restaurant, there is at least a kosher bagel place!

Norfolk is the community where I first became exposed to orthodox Judaism back in 2004.  It was nice to go back and visit this weekend.  It was a trip down memory lane to walk the same streets, visit the same homes, and sit in the same seat in shul.

Norfolk is a mostly black-hat community, the kind of place where nearly all the men wear suits on Shabbat (even if it’s hot), yet it’s not an extreme community at all.  It’s not a singing-dancing-drinking kind of shul; it tends to be much more serious than that in terms of community religious observance. Yet, the mood of the synagogue is decidedly lighthearted and there is always a l’chaim available for those who want one.  The community also takes hachnosas orchim very seriously, so if you call up the shul (B’nei Israel – (757) 627-7894), there is an option to have someone provide you with Shabbos accommodations and meals, and if you don’t call ahead, you can just show up at shul – there is always an announcement offering Shabbos meals to anybody who needs them.

Many of the people living in the Norfolk community are ba’al teshuva, so they didn’t grow up orthodox, but became religious later in life.  As a result, there is a very relaxed attitude in the community, which is open and accepting.  Women there might wear short sleeves or hats, even as their husbands insist on wearing suits.  You could pretty much show up in any kind of outfit and nobody would judge you, having been there themselves.  It’s a great feeling and it’s why I was able to open my mind up to orthodoxy while I was there.

Unfortunately, I have never really experienced the Chabad of Norfolk.  When I first became involved in the community, Norfolk had a kollel that was extremely active in outreach (or “inreach”!) and I was so well taken care of that I had no interest in going elsewhere.  Now that I am traveling and spending Shabbat in a different place almost every week, I am excited about seeing a new side of Norfolk! Hopefully in the coming weeks we will have a chance to check it out.