Good Morning, Vietnam

New Voices

Rabbi Menachem Hartman in his Chabad House in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.

The words of the song “Wherever you go there’s always someone Jewish” by Rabbi Larry Milder, have stuck with me since I first heard them as a child. I was reminded of them over winter break when I connected with a Jewish community during my recent trip to Vietnam.

Wherever you go there’s always someone Jewish

You’re never alone when you say you’re a Jew

So when you’re not home

And you’re somewhere kind of ‘newish’

The odds are–don’t look far–
’Cause they’re Jewish, too.

Some background: my parents moved to Seoul, South Korea for my father’s job during my freshman year and have lived there ever since. For Winter Break, one of the two weeks a year my family can be together, my two siblings and I rendezvoused with my parents at Incheon Airport in Korea and then flew to spend a week in Vietnam touring and relaxing.

On Shabbat morning, my brother and I, holding on to our street map for dear life, set out for the Chabad house in downtown Ho Chi Minh City (also known as Saigon.) After a half hour walk through Saigon’s chaotic streets, we arrived to find a group of men schmoozing before services began. I guess some things are the same everywhere. They were a mix of people: Israelis, Americans, Australians, and South Africans. A handful lived there while others were there on business or pleasure trips.

I have always said that Chabad is the McDonald’s of the Jewish world: you can get it anywhere and it will be pretty much the same. This was certainly born out in Vietnam. The rabbi had a long black beard and was named Menachem; the services used the Hebrew-English Chabad siddur; and lunch consisted of an extensive salad course followed by cholent.

Indeed, for a moment, I forgot that I was in Vietnam because I really could have been anywhere. I was participating in the age-old Jewish activities of prayer, eating, celebrating Shabbat, and building community. I felt an instantaneous connection to these people even though we had just met. The experience was replicated latter that week when an Australian woman sat down next to my mother at our resort and mentioned that her son was not traveling with them because he was with his Jewish day school class in Israel.

These experiences reminded me of the incredible privilege I have to be part of the Jewish people. We are only 13 million people scattered to the four corners of the earth, yet we share so much in common, including our diversity, and can form instant connections with one another. At a time when the news is full of Jews fighting with one another, especially in and about the State of Israel, it has been a blessing to be reminded of this wonderful feature of Jewish living.

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