Why is This Night Different from All Other Nights?

There are some things that you don't realize how much you appreciate until you go somewhere completely foreign, and stumble upon that comforting feeling of 'home'. You may not be home at all. You may still be far, far away. This feeling came to me for the first time in my 3.5 weeks of being in Korea, on the eve of Passover, at the Chabad of Korea.

The Chabad of Korea

As I walked into a room filled with over 70 strange, smiling faces, wishing each other a 'Chag Samearch', I felt almost as comfortable as walking into my Bubby's living room. The worldliness of the evening's guests should not come as a shocker, as most Jews in Korea come from somewhere else: America, France, Israel, and so much more. We were of different ages, of different races, and all in Korea for different reasons, all brought together under one roof. All brought together solely because we are Jewish. And despite the vast differences that spanned the room, the evening was filled with such connection, as strangers sat together, singing the same songs, having memorized the verses, all knowing the same tunes. Complaining together about the length of the evening and all equally accepting of each others devotion, or non-devotion, to the religion.

As the rabbi worded quite well, It is not the matzoh that makes a seder, it is not the wine (although, that doesn't hurt), it is the people who, despite their differing lives, are brought together not just at the Chabad of Korea, but around the world to celebrate a chag samearch: a happy holiday. This 6 hour long night filled with everything from the rabbi's lengthy speech, to the overdrawn Dayenu, to the mediocre gefilte fish and the nasally whines of those around me, brought such a feeling of comfort, and reminded me that Judaism really is special, and I am really lucky to be a part of it.

Chag Samearch!