You know that saying, “hindsight is 20/20″?  I know we’ve all seen how true it is, but most of us think about it in terms of looking back and wishing we’d done something differently.  What if we took a different perspective?  Instead, many times, we look back and realize the totality of what was going on at the time, how every piece of the puzzle fits perfectly.

I got kicked out of Sao Paolo and sent back to Argentina, which turned out to be a big bonus for me in the end.

I remember once I was traveling from Uruguay to Brazil.  Due to a clerical error on my visa, I was turned away at the Sao Paolo airport and sent back to Argentina, where I was living.  Of course at the time, this really seemed bad – I did miss seeing Sao Paolo, after all! – but upon looking back it wasn’t bad at all.  I got a full refund of my Sao Paolo to Iguazu flight, which I was able to rebook for cheaper to fly from Buenos Aires to Iguazu, I got a good night’s rest in my own apartment, and I was able to stock up on super yummy kosher empanadas (mmmm cheese empanadas!) for the rest of my trip.  The truth is, if I hadn’t ended up in Buenos Aires for that night, I actually would have run out of kosher food and would have had a mighty tough time getting hold of some wherever I was.  It was also comforting to be back “home” – and I had a lot I needed to do, which I managed to get done.  There were all sorts of benefits.  My parents, who were able to enter Sao Paolo without a problem, also had a great time (I had booked them in a 5-star hotel) and they got a romantic little getaway without me, which I think they thoroughly enjoyed.

Sometimes the stories are even more stark than this.  There’s the famous story of a man missing his flight because he misplaced his tefillin – and as a result avoided a crash.  Or of the men who were davening special prayers for the deaths of Jews in the Grand Canyon crash that preceded the 9/11 attack who were late to work on that fated day.  Or those men davening near the twin towers who were just shy of a minyan and who wished the old man who made up their 10th would go faster – but on account of his slow kaddishes didn’t make it back to work in time for the attacks.  The stories of miracles go on and on.  But we don’t need to see miracles to find this happening in our everyday life.

In Parshas Haazinu, we notice that the entire parsha, which is mostly composed of a song, is written in the present tense.  Yet, it talks about the Jews going astray from G-d, their punishment, and their eventual consolation.  It certainly seems like a timeline for me!  Yet, in the realm of G-d there is no timeline.  In the mind of a prophet there is no time.  So all of these things come together and happen at once, forming a complete picture.  A perfect view.

This is what we also have the ability to do – if we wish to – when we look back in time.  We can look at things that happened to us long in the past and merge them with the things that happened before and after.  When we stop looking at events that occurred as if they are isolated, then we get a clearer picture.

As we enter our new year and look back on the year that has just passed, let’s try to view it this way, as a totality, in the way that G-d views it.  It is as if every event in the year occurred at once.  A beautiful clarity, a beautiful picture.  If we do this, it will become clear to us why things happened as they did.  Our mistakes will leap out at us and we will be able to truly repent.  And with all of our mitzvot we can come to G-d and sincerely ask His forgiveness and for His love.

Shana tova and Shabbat shalom (in advance).

Traditional fishing boat at Ille Des Pins New Caledonia

This story is about my Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur experience in 1998 with the Jewish community in Numea, New Caledonia.

“A person’s earnings for the coming year are determined in the days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.” (Talmud, Beitza 16a)

The plane taxied slowly to the airport terminal and then came to a stop. I strapped on my backpack, picked up the Torah scroll, and headed to clear New Caledonian customs. As I had expected, a man met me at the exit gate. He was thrilled to see me with the Torah. “It has been so long,” the man said. “May I carry it?”

I handed him the Torah which he held reverently for a few seconds. Then his face lit up with the biggest smile. “We are so delighted you could come,” said the man. “We are maybe 150 Jewish people here, mostly from Algeria and Tunisia. It has been a long time since we have had a rabbi and a Torah.”

“I am not a rabbi,” I corrected him. “I am an 18-year-old studying in a Rabbinical seminary. Perhaps one day I will be a rabbi.”

“Yes, but you can read from the Torah. You know how to blow the shofar, lead the prayers, and put up some mezuzot. We here cannot do this very well. We are isolated on this island.”

The man’s name was Abraham. I knew this from having spoken to him on the phone. Other than knowing his name, I knew nothing about him, though I’d learn a lot as he welcomed me to stay in his home for the following weeks.

Abraham spoke with me in French. I understood most of what he was saying with my Montreal, Quebec French, though there were some differences. When we needed clarification we switched to broken Hebrew. Abraham had never been to Israel but his parents had taught him some Hebrew when he lived in Algeria.

The truth was that I had not wanted to come to New Caledonia for the High Holidays. I had just spent almost an entire year of intensive study in Australia and was scheduled to fly home to Montreal. I wanted to see my family and friends. There was also a synagogue in Montreal that had offered to pay me $800 to conduct services over the High holidays.

Placing a Mezuzah in New Caledonia

But two weeks before the end of the school term a call had come through. The Jewish community of New Caledonia wanted a rabbi for a few weeks. The senior yeshiva students laid a “guilt trip” on me. I was the only student in the yeshiva who could lead a service, blow shofar, and speak French. In addition, they knew that I had backpacked solo around Europe, so they thought I might just be crazy enough to go solo to this French Polynesian island.

After a large dose of hearing that I was the only one who could do the job, I agreed to go. I found someone who would lend me a small Torah scroll, provided I insure it. Also, as requested by the community, I purchased 10 mezzuot and 50 kippot on the agreement that they would pay me back for everything.

Though I wouldn’t earn the money I could have earned in Montreal, I imagined that I would at least have some fun exploring the island. But upon arriving in New Caledonia, I wasn’t so sure about that.

In the week preceding Rosh Hashana, I visited Jews in and around Numea. I affixed 10 mezuzot to door-posts, put tefillin on people, helped a boy find a yeshiva in Israel, and even had an interview with a local newspaper. I was kept busy teaching Torah and it seemed as if all 150 Jews wanted to meet and talk with me.

I was asked to sit through a number of community meetings and I gave my two cents when asked, and sometimes even when not. At one point they were discussing building plans for a new synagogue and mikva. One of the big donors did not want to give any money towards the construction of the mikva. “If you have money for just a synagogue or a mikva, Jewish law requires that you build a mikva,” I explained. It took a little more convincing, but in the end he agreed to contribute.

I finally did get a few days’ break in the days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. A wealthy community member rented for me a wave runner for a full day. I rode from one island to the next, stopping off to snorkel in the reefs teaming with magnificent coral and fish life. The next day he gave me a plane ticket to one of the smaller neighboring islands. I cycled around, exploring native villages where people lived in grass huts, caves filled with bats, and deserted white sandy beaches. I picked green coconuts to drink and found plenty opportunities to escape into my own tropical paradise.

When I got back Abraham set me up to go spear fishing with one of the local champions he knew well. Needless to say I didn’t spear anything but the fisherman gave me half his catch to take back for Abraham to cook for us. It was a delightful change from canned tuna.

Spear Fishing in New Caledonia for Rosh Hashanah food

The two and a half weeks flew by. As Abraham drove me to the airport, I sat in the car thinking; “Even if I did not make any money I accomplished a lot and had a great time. The money made in Montreal would have been nice, but I got to have an incredible experience.” In addition, I had flights to Montreal and would please G-d see my family in the next 24 hours.

“We are very thankful that you came and for all your help,” Abraham said, as he bid me good-bye. “We want to give you something as a token of our appreciation.” He handed me an envelope. In the envelope there were $1000 Australian Dollars, which equaled $800 Canadian based on the exchange rate at that time. I had just received the same amount of money that I would have earned had I forgone New Caledonia and gone home to Montreal.

At the young age of 18, my trip to New Caledonia had helped me realize that I could not make one penny more or less than what G-d had intended for me. I did the right thing by coming to help the New Caledonian community, I had an awesome experience, and I received the exact amount of money that was destined to be mine.

*The Talmud (Beitza 16a) states that the amount a person will earn for the year is determined in the days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, except for one’s expenditures in honor of Shabbat, Jewish holidays, and for the Torah education of one’s children.

There is a custom to blow the Shofar every day during the month of Elul as we lead up to Rosh Hashanah. Most people blow four sounds from the Shofar known as Ta’shrat, which stands for: Te’kiah – Sh’vorim –Te’ruah – Te’kiah. I follow the Chabbad custom of blowing ten sounds: Ta’shrat – Ta’shat – Ta’rat (these are abbreviated terms).

Either way, the important thing is that we blow the Shofar to remind ourselves that Rosh Hashanah is coming and it’s time for some serious introspection. The sound of the shofar is a wakeup call. It’s for ourselves to hear and for others who may be around listening.

Rachel and I spent two weeks in Fiji on our way to Australia. I don’t think much shofar blowing has been done in Fiji and it was special to blow shofar around the country as we traveled from island to island.

Rosh Hashanah is this coming Wednesday night, making Thursday and Friday festival days. Hearing the shofar is a great mitzvah and does a lot for the neshamah (the soul) even if it sounds just like noise to the mind. Everyone should try and get to a shul to hear the shofar at least for the first 30 blasts at the beginning.

Shanah Tova.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VA5DrGzBW6s&w=420&h=315]

The Fijian village where I spent several days learning about their culture - and explaining my own.

I just came back from spending several days in a remote Fijian village.  I know, I should have been spending my time relaxing on the beach by our resort, but I couldn’t help myself – I wanted to see how the locals really live.  So I hopped on a local transport (buses don’t run there) and went as far into the interior of Viti Levu as I could get without walking (and there are still villages you can only access by walking quite far).

One of the most interesting things about our visit to Fiji was the reception we got as Jews there.  Most people actually said they were honored to meet us – members of the “chosen people!”  “I have only read about the Jews in the Bible,” said Mario, head of my village host family, “but here I see one before my face!”  The people I met were overwhelmingly excited to hear about Jewish life and culture, and just plain to meet someone from a culture and religion they had heretofore placed only in the realm of legend.

Mealtimes in the village, even breakfasts, were huge affairs with many people in attendance. These gatherings were not just about eating, but were also about story-telling - and the stories they wanted to hear were from me! They wanted to learn about the Jews.

Mealtimes in the Fijian village were an affair.  Even breakfast was a big ordeal with people coming from homes all around and converging on one house to share food and stories.  Doors and windows are always open and if someone walks by outside, the residents within will shout to that person to come and join them – and often they will!  So when I sat down and joined them, they were all very excited and began to ask me dozens of questions.  What was interesting was their reaction when I told them of the Jews’ history: being exiled from the land of Israel, then chased out of many countries on pain of death.  “But why?” they asked me. “Why would they want to kick out the Jews? Fiji has never done this!” Why indeed…

To be asked this question in the last few days by these native Fijians shocked me to my core.  How apropos!  In fact, in this week’s parsha it says, “And all the nations will say, ‘For what reason did Hashem do so to this Land; why this wrathfulness of great anger?’ And they will say, ‘Because they forsook the covenant of Hashem, the G-d of their forefathers…’”  This is exactly the answer I had to give the Fijians.  The Jews have not followed completely the word of G-d, the law of G-d, and therefore have been punished mightily.

It’s easy for us to look around and find others doing aveiros (sins), violating the laws of the Torah.  It’s easy to look at someone who is not as religious and say, “That person does not make a blessing before eating bread!”  It’s easy to look at someone who is religious and to find their fault, to say, “That person wears a hat and a beard but he uses curse words!”  But what’s not easy is to look at ourselves and realize that we are as guilty – or, truthfully, more guilty – as any other person.  We all violate the laws of the Torah, every day.  We are fallible, we are human, we make mistakes. This is why so many people in the world still hate us and chase us out. This is why we continue to eagerly await moshiach.  Not because of him, or her, but because of me.

Now is the time to do teshuva (repentence).  With Rosh Hashana coming up, it’s an important wake-up call for us.  In just a few days, we will be inscribed in the book of life… or death.  Just days after that, the judgement will be sealed, and we cannot change it.  Now is the time to return to G-d, to accept our faults and recognize them so that we can admit them to Him and so that we can make a commitment to doing better in the future.  We shouldn’t have to have the nations of the world asking us these questions in order to ask them ourselves.  We should be doing it every day, and especially now.  This Shabbat, let’s try introspecting and looking inward at ourselves, in preparation for the days of holiness ahead.

Shabbat shalom!

Rabbi Ben surprised me with a trip to Fiji to celebrate our anniversary!  Of course the Traveling Rabbi would think of the gift of travel – and I am definitely not complaining! It is beautiful here!

So far we haven’t found any Jews, although I have heard that there are a handful of people of Jewish descent living in the capital city of Suva, which we have not visited.

We spent Shabbat on the island of Mana in the Manaluca Islands group.  These photos show the beautiful Shabbat candles I lit, with some Fijian flair.  Even our candles look like they’re in paradise!

To prepare for Shabbat, we brought some small challah rolls with us from the plane and I went fishing on Thursday and caught us some fresh local fish.  For lunch on Saturday we just had some eggs that were boiled on Friday afternoon, some salad, and some bread.  It was simple, but we were able to sit and watch the calm waves of the Pacific Ocean lap at the shore as we ate, which made everything so beautiful!

It was truly a very special Shabbat!