Parshas Beshalach: Never Judge a Book by its Cover

Our friend the Jordanian taxi driver showing us around Shobak Castle near Petra

It was a warm and rainy afternoon in Aqaba, Jordan.  We had crossed the border from Eilat the day before, only to discover that the Muslim festival of Eid was about to start.  This meant that there were no hotel rooms available the next night for any sort of reasonable price, so after spending the day exploring Aqaba, we figured we’d better leave.

We figured we’d take a bus to Wadi Musa, the village right outside the world-famous site of Petra, and try to find something there. Of course, it would be expensive, but it would be expensive anytime, not just when vacationing hordes descend for Eid, like they do in the beach town to the south. (Isn’t it funny how some things are the same in every culture?)  We tried in vain to find a bus, but everyone kept telling us they weren’t running because of the Eid festival.

While we were standing around, several taxi drivers approached us.  We knew the bus cost about $3 Jordanian per person and we were determined not to pay more.  Of course, the taxis wanted to charge us ridiculous amounts, but we turned away their $50 offers immediately.  One man kept persisting, insisting that he was a taxi driver from Wadi Mussa who had to return there anyway.  We eventually convinced him to take us for only $10, just slightly more than the $6 we would have spent to take a bus (had there been one).

We fully expected to be ripped off.  We were certain our cab driver would try to charge us $10 each instead of the $10 total that we’d agreed on – a common scam tactic used in third world countries.  To our surprise, as we drove the long way up to Wadi Mussa, we struck up a wonderful conversation with our cabbie.  We chatted about our families and the kind of foods the Jordanian people eat, which led him even to invite us over to his house.  Not only did he invite us for a meal, but he invited us to stay!

We ended up staying 4 days with the Jordanian family and the whole time they were incredibly welcoming and hospitable, even understanding that we couldn’t eat most of the food they offered us.  It didn’t even matter to them when they found out we were Jewish!  And of course, our cabbie didn’t overcharge us at all.  We had a great time.

Crossing the Red Sea (or the Sea of Reeds) would have been much harder for the Jews in a time where there were no giant ships to ferry them across.

At the beginning of time, when G-d created the earth, He knew that certain events would happen and designed the world accordingly.  The Torah was the blueprint for the world, after all.  One of the things that He did in preparation was to command the Sea of Reeds to split for the Jews.  Yet, we see in this week’s parsha that the Sea did not split immediately for the Jews, in spite of being told to directly by G-d.  Why?

When the Jews approached the Sea, they were spiritually filthy.  They looked and acted like Egyptians.  The Sea took one look at them and decided they did not meet the description it had been given of G-d’s chosen people.  It only split when one man, Nachshon ben Aminadav, was confident enough of G-d’s proclamation that He would save them, that he began to walk into the Sea.  Only once this happened was Moses able to lift his staff and split the Sea.  Only once the Sea recognized the true spiritual nature of the Jewish people through Nachshon’s action could it carry out G-d’s prior command.

Just as we judged our Muslim taxi driver unfavorably, the Sea of Reeds judged the Jewish people wrongly.  Yet both our taxi driver friend and the Jews showed their true selves and proved that judgment wrong.

The truth is, we do this every day. We see other people and we judge them – often poorly.  We are quick to anger and quick to judge, in spite of the Torah’s teaching to judge everyone favorably.  Yet we ourselves are often judged unfavorably and we don’t like it much.  We expect the traffic to split for us, we expect lights to turn green and grocery store lines to be short.  We expect others to recognize our inner worth and yet we have such a difficult time doing this for others.

There are two morals to this story that we can work on in the coming week. First, when we meet others, we must do our best to judge them favorably.  We must see them for who they really are, for the G-dly soul they possess within them.  Even if this means we must struggle to see the good in them, even if we can find only a tiny spark, we must seize hold of it and amplify it because this is what the Torah commands us to do and because it is what encourages others to grow.

Second, when we ourselves feel (or are) wrongly judged, not to react with wailing or anger or seek to retreat, as many of the Jewish people did when they were trapped at the shore of the Sea of Reeds.  Rather, we must do as Nachshon ben Aminadav did and walk boldly forward into the sea, showing everyone the true strength, beauty, and goodness of our inner selves.  Without us needing to argue at all, others will recognize our inner worth simply by our actions.  And indeed, we did this when we met our Muslim taxi driver friend: we acted as Jews in his presence, with respect and chessed, without anger or defensiveness… and, whatever his preconceptions may have been, he recognized our kiddush Hashem and reacted to that.  Today, I am sure, he sees Jews differently as a result of our friendly interactions.  If ever we are judged wrongly we must seek to act as true Jews and do a kiddush Hashem.

Tonight/Today (depending on what part of the world you’re in) is the 7th night/day of Chanukah.  The next-to-last.  The eighth night is always my favorite, watching all the candles lit up, but it’s also my least favorite because it means Chanukah is almost over and we have to wait another entire year to celebrate it again.

At this time last Chanukah, Rabbi Ben and I were in Pune, India.  It’s hard to believe it was a whole year ago because to us it feels as if it was only yesterday.  Now that we’re celebrating Chanukah in Australia, the contrast between this year and last year is dramatic.

Celebrating Chanukah in Pune felt more like a family affair because, largely, it was.  All Chanukah events were hosted by Rabbi and Rebbetzin Kupchik at their Chabad House there.  Although there is a large local synagogue in Pune (it’s made of red brick and actually looks like a cathedral), the local Jewish population traditionally never celebrated Chanukah (or Purim for that matter) because they settled in India before these events occurred.  Therefore, there was no local Jewish Chanukah celebration, although a few Indian Jews did join us at the Chabad House to celebrate.

Every night of Chanukah, there was some sort of celebration at the Chabad house, although Rabbi Ben and I only arrived in time to celebrate the last few days there (the other days we celebrated in Jordan and in Bombay).  Still, every night the Kupchiks arranged a little party of sorts, starting with lighting the giant menorah out in front of the Chabad House.  It was a fun atmosphere because the crowd was small and very involved – even the Kupchiks’ two goats! You see, any dairy that the Kupchiks get has to be hand-milked (weekly) by one of them from a local cow.  By getting their own goats, they will have to rely less on that source, and will be able to make goat cheeses and other dairy products from milking their very own goats.  Anyway, even the goats joined in the Chanukah celebration and menorah candle-lighting!

The public candle-lighting was followed by lots of singing, of which I have some videos that perhaps I will post later or tomorrow.  Rabbi Kupchik knew Rabbi Ben from a previous visit and encouraged him to lead some of the singing.  On the seventh night, Rabbi Ben even lit the giant menorah!

After the singing, we all sat down together and had a nice meal.  Every night it was something different, but it was usually Israeli-style.  The Kupchiks make their own pita bread fresh daily.  They also make Israeli salad and hummus from scratch.  In fact, almost everything they make is from scratch because there is no way for them to just go to the shops and buy kosher pre-packaged food.  Everything tastes better and fresher, and I’m sure it’s also much healthier!  So every night we had a delicious festive meal to celebrate the holiday with the other Jews in Pune, some who were travelers like ourselves, some there on business, some expats living there for work, and even some Indian Jews as well.  It was a great mix and a great way to celebrate the victory of Jewish observance over the forces of assimilation!

During a Chabad Chanukah party in the park in Paraguay, dozens of Jews showed up. I really enjoyed watching all the children play on the playground, especially these two boys who showed their good middos by playing with a little boy much younger than them.

Paraguay is a little, landlocked country in south-central South America, just above Argentina and hemmed in by Brazil and Bolivia.  In 2007, while I was living in Argentina, I packed a small bag and spontaneously flew there, without plans as to what to eat, where to sleep, or how I would celebrate the holiday. Holiday?! Yes, Chanukah!  It was December and I went to Paraguay during Chanukah.

Fortunately, as soon as I arrived, I gave the Chabad rabbi a call.  After taking a taxi to the Chabad, we all piled into his car and drove to a nearby park, usually driving on the wrong side of the road and just barely avoiding head-on collisions with the oncoming traffic.  The rabbi told me they were going to be having a Chanukah party in the park.

When we arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes.  A larger-than-life Chanukah menorah towered above us.  I don’t think I’ve ever see one so big before!  And I certainly wouldn’t have expected to see it in a park in Asunción, Paraguay!

More and more members of the community began to arrive. The children played on the playground while teenage girls blew up balloons for them. The adults stood around, chatting.  Then, the sun began to set.  The men quickly formed a minyan and began to pray.  When they were done, it was showtime!

The menorah was so enormous that the rabbi had hired a cherry-picker truck to come lift people to the top to light it!  I was amazed.  It was incredible to celebrate the miracles of Chanukah by lighting the largest menorah I’ve ever seen, with many other Jews, in the center of a small country in South America.

At a Chanukah party in the park in Asuncion, Paraguay, the Chabad rabbi even let me ride up in the cherry-picker to light the menorah!

The next night, the party in the park continued.  Once again the children came out to play, the adults came out to chat, and the cherry-picker arrived for the menorah lighting.  This time, the rabbi even let me ride up and light the menorah! I will never forget how excited I was to perform this beautiful mitzvah, or how beautiful the city of Asunción looked from up so high.

When I descended to the ground again, the surprises weren’t over.  The Chabad house had cooked up a huge batch of homemade sufganiot (jelly donuts) to celebrate the miracle of the oil!  I must have eaten two or three – they were so good – and still there were many left after the party.

That Chanukah I spent in Paraguay will always be in my mind as one of my favorite celebrations of Chanukah.  It just goes to show that no matter where we live, we are still Jews and we still cling to our traditions, our beliefs, and our way of life.

Chanukah sameach!

As Rabbi Ben and I travel, we meet many new people, everywhere we go.  For most people, meeting someone new is a novel thing.  You move around in the same circles, see more or less the same people day in and day out.  When you meet someone new, it’s interesting, maybe even exciting.  But for us, it happens all the time because we are always the ones moving.

Now, when you meet a new person, the first thing you do is to get to know them.  How do you do this? By asking questions, of course! And people ask Rabbi Ben and I a lot of questions, which is great. But there is some questions we really dislike, like “What kind of job do you do?” or the very worst one, “Where do you live?”

It’s frustrating because we don’t really live anywhere.  In our entire marriage, we have never stayed anywhere for more than a month.  We are just always on the move.  “No fixed address.”

So it’s interesting when we read this week’s parsha and Yaakov approaches his brother Esav for the first time in over 28 years.  Yaakov then tells Esav where he’s been for such a long time, saying, “I lived with Laban.” (“Im Laban garti.”) Laban was a wicked fellow and so we’d expect Yaakov to say something different, perhaps that he sojourned there.  This leads us to ask, why does Yaakov choose to say he lived (garti) with Laban?

Rashi answers this somewhat by pointing out that “garti” (“lived”) has the same letters as “tar yag,” the Hebrew abbreviation for 613.  What Rashi seems to be saying is that Yaakov wanted to make sure Esav understood that although he lived with Laban (who was wicked), he still kept the 613 mitzvot.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe suggested another interesting association with the word “garti” – that it is related to the word “ger,” or “foreigner.” (Remember that the original Torah doesn’t include any vowel letters!)  The Rebbe then asks, “How does this relate to Rashi’s explanation of the reason for the word garti?

Simply put, in order to keep the 613 mitzvot while living with Laban, Yaakov had to make himself a foreigner in Laban’s home.  Laban was too wicked for Yaakov to truly immerse himself in the lifestyle there and still keep the mitzvot.  So Yaakov made boundaries for himself.  He made the physical things and wealth foreign to him and focused instead on the spiritual.  He and his family would live in a nice, protected home, but he would put all of his physical belongings and wealth into a rickety makeshift tent outside, something that barely protected it.  The physical just wasn’t important to him.

This is the lesson we have to take with us as we go through our lives and as we travel.  We live in each place we visit, but everywhere we go, we must strive to keep the 613 mitzvot.  In order to do this, we have to put the physical and superficial to the side, ignore it, and focus on the spiritual.

This week will be the Chabad holiday of Yud Tes Kislev, which is followed by Chanukkah.  How fitting that we should be celebrating these two holidays after just learning this lesson from the weekly parsha.  After all, Yud Tes Kislev celebrates the birth of chassidus in the world, as the Maggid of Mezrich told the Baal Shem Tov that moshiach will come when his teachings are disseminated throughout the world, and on Yud Tes Kislev the Alter Rebbe, whose Tanya made these teachings accessible to all Jews (educated or not) was released from prison, free to spread chassidus throughout the world.  Similarly, Chanukah celebrates freedom to be Jewish.  And as we learn from the concept of gelt (coins or money) given on Chanukah, we are free now to spend our money on spiritual pursuits.  Unlike being under Greek rule, when we were free to own plenty of physical possessions, but were not free to spend them on spiritual pursuits, now we are free to follow in Yaakov’s footsteps.

So as we travel, a much pleasanter question to be asked by people we meet is, “Why are you traveling?”  Well, we’re traveling for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest is simply that there are a lot of sparks of holiness out there in the world and we are out collecting them. How? By keeping the mitzvot and observing the Torah, everywhere we go.  And how do we do that? By distancing ourselves from the physical temptations of the world around us and focusing on the spiritual.  It is something every one of us can work on every single day.

Shabbat Shalom!

My first visit to the Kosher McDonald's in Buenos Aires, Argentina was immediately after Shabbos on my first Saturday night in the country. It wasn't opened yet, but it opened soon after!

Buenos Aires, Argentina – a city famous for so many things: tango, beef, gauchos, Paris style, and, of course, the Kosher McDonald’s.

What? Did you say ‘Kosher McDonald’s?!’

Yes, yes I did.  I spent 6 months living in Argentina – all of them directly across the street from the famous Abasto Mall, which houses the only kosher McDonald’s outside of Israel.

It’s such an interesting and unusual find that it’s mentioned in the food section of all the major Argentina guidebooks, including those that almost never think to cover the kosher traveler (which is basically all of them!).

Because I lived pretty much across the street, the Abasto was one of my favorite hangouts.  There was always something interesting going on there, whether it was a gigantic in-mall playground or the ‘Bodies’ exhibit on tour.  Plus, with its two kosher restaurants (next to the meaty McDonald’s was a cute little dairy restaurant), it was a great place to meet up with friends to just munch, hang out, and watch the world go by.

And watch the world go by we did!  In fact, it seemed like just about everyone in the world went by that kosher McDonald’s.  Even if they weren’t coming to eat from it, they were coming by to take photos of it, just to prove it exists.  People who have never been to Israel (and thus never seen the even more exciting kosher McDonald’s express in the main Jerusalem bus station) are fascinated to find their first kosher Micky D’s.

The kashrus certificate that proves you aren't dreaming - the McDonald's in Buenos Aires, Argentina really IS kosher!

I never actually ate in the Kosher McDonald’s… I gave up fast food 10 years ago after reading “Fast Food Nation.”  But many, many of my friends did eat there, and the verdict was that it was pretty good!  Of course, the flavors are slightly different, imbued with an Argentinean flair, but that famous Argentinean beef does those burgers good.  No overly processed factory-farmed beef here!  In Buenos Aires, the legendary gauchos of the pampas are the ones responsible for the cows, who feed on the endless grassy plains.

Next time you’re in Argentina, it’s worth a visit to the Kosher McDonald’s in the Abasto Mall (Abasto has its own metro stop, so it’s easy to reach).  But don’t limit yourself.  Buenos Aires has a wealth of kosher places, from pizza joints famous in Jewish communities across the southern cone to the cutest little sandwich and empanada shop Wafflemania to bakeries selling the famous Argentinean alfajores, chocolate-covered cookies filled with sticky-sweet dulce de leche.  For the kosher traveler, Argentina is a culinary delight!

One of the things that is unique about the Jewish people is the way we hold onto our traditions.   Although some slight aspects of styles change in different communities, Jews across the world manage to hold onto their traditions in ways that prevent them from simply blending into – and disappearing into – their host cultures.

I spent six months living in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in a neighborhood called Once (pronounced ‘ohn-say’), which is the neighborhood in Argentina with the highest concentration of Jews.  While there, I made new friends, went to new synagogues, and even attended lectures at a seminary (Majon Or Jaia).  One of my favorite experiences there was to attend the traditional Jewish wedding of one of my new friends.

My friend, Paula, showed up to her wedding on Latino time – almost an hour late – but looked as pretty as a princess.  Like some other major religions, women in Judaism wear white at their weddings to symbolize their spiritual purity, as all your sins are wiped away on your wedding day.  During the first part of the wedding, Paula sat in a special chair and gave blessings to visitors and said prayers for people who need them.  Because a bride (kallah) and groom (chattan) are on such a high spiritual level on their wedding day, their prayers go directly to G-d.

The chuppah at my friend Paula's wedding in Buenos Aires, Argentina, reminded me of other Jewish weddings I'd attended in other countries. It was beautiful!

The next part of the wedding took place outside.  The seasons in Argentina are the reverse of what they are in the USA, so even though it was September, it was still freezing!  This part of the wedding takes place under a special marriage canopy called the chuppah.  All Jewish weddings have some sort of chuppah, no matter whether they are reform, conservative, or orthodox, no matter where they are in the world.  It’s a very special tradition representing the new home the couple will build together.

Finally, while Paula and her new husband went to a special room to spend their first time alone as husband and wife, the rest of us went to a hall to start the party.  When Paula and her husband came in, we were all very excited!  We cheered for them and then danced with them – men on one side of a divider and women on the other – according to orthodox Jewish tradition.   It was a really fun party!  The wedding started at noon and went on all day and all night!

Maybe you’ve attended a similar Jewish wedding at some point in your life.  I’ve gone to Jewish weddings in the US, Canada, and Israel, in addition to this one in Argentina.  Next time you get a chance, you should go – it’s a mitzvah to increase the joy of the bride and groom!  Plus, it’s neat to see how similar the weddings are all over the world.