Zalman and Shaindy Berenshtein set out on shlichus to Kochi, India. Despite their previous experiences in India, they did not anticipate how difficult it would be to get started, but a letter from the Rebbe about shlichus helped them make their decision.
Kochi is a popular city for Israelis touring southern India, whether because of the tropical climate or the beautiful beaches. In addition to the abundance of ancient buildings, a tourist can see Chinese fishing nets, a Portuguese style palace, and Dutch streets against a British landscape. One can go out for an evening of antiques shopping in the area of the local shul or simply wander about the streets or enjoy the beach.
The Jewish community in Kochi is famous among Jewish communities in India. It is 2000 years old and once consisted of about 5000 Jews who zealously observed Jewish life. Most of them made aliya in the fifties and since then, only a few dozen families remain. Those who left thought this was the Geula and insisted on paying the cost of the trip (rather than have the Israeli government pay for them).
There are different versions about how the Jewish community came to be. One version says that the Jews came by ship in the time of King Shlomo. Another version says they came during the Babylonian exile. All agree that the k’hilla was already in existence by the time of the Assyrian exile.
During the community’s glory days, there were eight shuls in Kochi. Unlike other distant communities, the Jews of Kochi preserved Jewish tradition and customs. There is early written testimony about the existence of a Jewish community in Kochi one thousand years ago in which the Hindi ruler gave copper engraved tablets to Rabbi Yosef, the Jewish leader whom he respected.
Over the past sixty years or so, most of the community made aliya, the elders have passed on, and the community shrank. Six out of the eight shuls were turned into museums and visitors’ centers. T’fillos took place only rarely in the two remaining shuls. The passing of the spiritual leader of the community three years ago marked the end of an era. Just before the formerly magnificent community was about to become a fond memory, Rabbi Berenshtein and his wife arrived.
“One of the nice things about the community here,” said Rabbi Berenshtein “is the fact that the Jews are very proud of being Jewish even though their Jewish knowledge isn’t extensive. In Kochi there is much respect for any member of the Jewish people. Our job is to educate people. The first thing we did is revive t’fillos in the shul. With the help of the Jewish tourists, we have begun having regular minyanim.
“We gave some people t’fillin and they began using them every day. Many mezuzos were put up, and we have kosher sh’chita here. Every few months, a shochet comes to Kochi and people buy kosher chicken.”
Another important element in restoring Jewish Kochi to its former glory is the construction of a mikva. The mikva was built in the yard of one of the shuls and is almost completed.
THE REBBE’S ANSWER
“I’ll tell you the truth. We had no intentions of going on shlichus to a city of our own.”
Rabbi Berenshtein was familiar with India from before his marriage, from when he was a bachur after his year on K’vutza. He spent several months helping Rabbi Dror Moshe Shaul in Dharamsala and he enjoyed the atmosphere and the style of shlichus.
“The work is nonstop, unlike in any other place I had seen before. Every day, from morning till night, I learned Tanya and sichos with tourists and had discussions about hashkafa and emuna. After we married we decided to start married life on shlichus and we went to Dharamsala.
“Our plan was to return to Eretz Yisroel after three months, at the end of the season, and to seriously plan for the future. Since we had a six month visa, we couldn’t decide whether to remain another three months somewhere else in India or to open a new place. I felt I wasn’t cut out to be an independent shliach. We wrote to the Rebbe that we were inclined to return to Eretz Yisroel but we wanted to be sure that we were doing the right thing.
“We opened volume 19 to page 265 and read it again and again, amazed by what it said. We had not expected such a clear, detailed answer. It took us a few days to digest the answer in which the Rebbe suggested that we do not think of leaving, but should go on shlichus for life and to do this not with kabbalas ol but with simcha.
“India is not an easy country for shlichus. I had already been on shlichus here so it was somewhat less daunting, but for my wife it meant setting aside her dreams and ambitions. A few more days went by and we discussed our next move until we finally decided: We are Chassidim and have to do this, with simcha!”
The couple still didn’t know where to go on shlichus. In India there are many locations that don’t have a permanent shliach.
“As soon as we made our decision, I got a phone call from Rabbi Shmuel Sharf, the shliach in New Delhi. After asking how we are, he said that he had someone at his Chabad house from Eretz Yisroel whose family’s roots were in Kochi. The man had made a visit to Kochi but was disappointed that there was no Chabad house. ‘How about it?’ he asked.
“Your timing is impeccable,” I said, and I told him about the Rebbe’s answer and the decision we had made shortly before he called.”
Rabbi Berenshtein and his wife attended the Kinus HaShluchim in 770 some time later. Before heading back to India, they wanted to draw on the Rebbe’s kochos. They did some fundraising and were helped by two bachurim who had worked in Kochi for a few months. They filled him in on what he needed to know. The Berenshteins bought some supplies and headed out.
A DIFFICULT JOURNEY
The first stop in India was Pushkar where they were hosted by Rabbi Shimshon Goldstein and his wife.
“After three weeks we left for Kochi by train. It was a few days before Chanuka 5769. We had forty hours of traveling ahead of us. Rabbi Goldstein gave us a goodbye present of a machine that makes Indian flatbread (chapatis).
“We had eight large suitcases and at nine in the morning we were on a jeep for a five hour ride to Kota in the south of Rajasthan. From there, we had to take a train that left in the afternoon and was supposed to arrive at a city near Kochi at two in the morning. Then we had to get to Kochi by taxi without knowing where we would be living and where we would be putting our luggage.
“The trip was exhausting but interesting. In Goa, a nice Indian fellow got on the train and wanted to sit near us. After he settled down, he took out his laptop. I asked him if I could borrow it for a few minutes to respond to emails and the like.
“It turned out that he lived not far from Kochi and he was able to help us out. Since we would be arriving late at night, we asked him whether he knew a reliable taxi driver who would wait for us at the station and drive us to Kochi. After a few phone calls he had it arranged. Since the dialect spoken in Kochi is different than in other parts of India, we asked him to teach us some key words.
“We got off the train at two a.m. and were an hour’s drive from Kochi. A taxi driver was waiting for us. We arrived in Kochi early in the morning. Since at that time of year there are hardly any hotel rooms available, and those that are available are very expensive, we had to spend a few hours until we found a guest room at a reasonable price. Utterly spent, we allowed ourselves a brief nap.
“It was Thursday morning and we got to work on shopping for Shabbos. We met Jews along the way, and without knowing how we would manage, we invited them to join us for the Shabbos meal.
“In the shul we met two Jewish couples, one from Johannesburg and one from London. Both were happy to hear there is a Chabad house and together with them, we planned on davening Friday night in the shul. We walked back down the Jewish street to the bazaar and on the way we met another Jewish family. They lived locally and were very happy to hear that we had come to Kochi to open a Chabad house.
“Friday afternoon, we were still making the rounds of the shops to buy ingredients for Shabbos: flour, vegetables, rice and beans. The hardest item to locate was kosher oil. In India there is only one type of oil that one can use.”
The Berenshteins remember those first days in Kochi in detail, as though it happened a few days ago.
Friday morning, they asked the manager of the guest rooms whether they could cook in his apartment. They were told it was a holiday for them and so they couldn’t allow that; they suggested asking those who lived across the way. The new shluchim went to the house across the street and the people were accommodating. Within a few hours the meal was ready – the chapatis were baked in the machine they had been given in Pushkar and the salads were made.
The shluchim set up another table and took chairs from other rooms that were not rented. They used the lobby as the dining room of the new Chabad house that had been founded that day.
“After Kabbalas Shabbos, I left the shul with an entourage of ten men. We walked together in the street, with me in my Shabbos sirtuk. It was a sight to behold. There were children who were sure I was a wizard.
“The Shabbos meal was special; the first Shabbos meal of the Chabad house of Kochi. Everybody enjoyed the uniquely improvised Shabbos. We did not go to Shul on Shabbos day because there was no minyan due to the unbearable heat and humidity. Nevertheless, about ten people showed up at one o’clock for the meal that we ate in the yard. A few more Israelis who hadn’t heard about the new Chabad house the day before joined us as well.”
On Sunday, the new shluchim took a walk to get acquainted with the area. They met a few Israelis with whom they put on t’fillin. Monday and Tuesday were devoted to buying the supplies they needed:
“Shopping is very hard. I don’t think there was a store in Kochi that we did not visit.”
Tuesday of that week they devoted to mivtzaim in the shul and visiting Jewish families:
“We visited one of the distinguished families of the community, Salam. We learned that there was occasionally a minyan on Shabbos morning in the shul and we had come just in time because the head of the community, who used to read from the Torah, had recently passed away.”
They needed to find a building where they could host all their activities. After a marathon search, they found a nice, furnished apartment with a large living room that could hold twenty-five people, a respectable kitchen with cabinets, and an air conditioned bedroom. These are things that are hard to find in India. The owner was even willing to let them use a large balcony on the upper floor.
“On our second Shabbos in Kochi, we had a proper Shabbos meal. I went to buy fresh fish and we brought all our own equipment and cut and cleaned the fish on the spot. I noticed a woman standing not far off who was watching us. She turned out to be a Jewish woman who lives in Chicago and was visiting with her husband. I invited them to come to the Chabad house before Shabbos to talk a bit. They were visiting India as part of a trip around the world to visit synagogues.
“When they showed up at the Chabad house, and I asked her husband when the last time he had put on t’fillin was, it turned out the only time had been 22 years earlier! Of course I immediately took out t’fillin which he put on. At the Shabbos meal they talked about their two children, fifteen and seventeen, who had bar mitzvahs without t’fillin. They promised to buy their sons t’fillin upon their return home.
“That Shabbos we had a minyan in the shul on Shabbos morning too. It’s a half hour walk each way in blistering heat but we were happy there was a minyan. In addition, we hosted three more couples who were visiting from Eretz Yisroel.
“During the next week, we met the new head of the community, the brother-in-law of the previous head. He is 86 and was very happy to hear that we were setting up a permanent Chabad house. He told us how they kept kashrus to the best of their abilities and had never eaten treif. It should be noted that despite all the travails they went through, many of them eat only kosher which is quite astonishing. Previously, they would bring a shochet, but when he died, they began ordering kosher meat from Bombay. Now we bring a shochet and things are returning to the way they once were.
“I checked the Sifrei Torah in the shul and that which needed fixing was fixed. We hold evenings of chizuk and make many house calls.
“At a later point, he agreed to hang a sign in the shul that invites Jews to visit the Chabad house on Shabbos and for shiurim. Any Jew who visits Kochi visits the shul, which is why this sign is so important.”
BRINGING A JEW TO HIS FINAL REST
The Chabad house of Kochi quickly became the place to go for all one’s Jewish needs, both for tourists and the local k’hilla. The shliach is also the chazan, the one who blows the shofar, the one who organizes minyanim and who brings a shochet.
“During the tourist season, we are flooded with tourists. Every year, about half a million people visit the shul. I devote about five hours a day to the shul where I sit and learn and do mivtzaim.
“During those five hours I meet many men who have never put on t’fillin. Who knows whether they would have ever put on t’fillin in their lives if not for meeting us? This year, we celebrated five bar mitzvahs for men whose Jewish identity was lost not by their parents but by their great-grandparents!”
Rabbi Berenshtein heard about a young American who lives in Kochi with a gentile woman. The man had decided he hated being Jewish and left America for India, met a local woman and married her. Rabbi Berenshtein called him and arranged to meet him.
“He is a lost soul. Even in his assimilated state, I can see the depth of the Jewish neshama. He told me that he and the woman went to a church to get married, but the priest told them he would marry them only on condition that he converted to Christianity which, of course, he was unwilling to do. He could not even explain why.
“At the end of my visit, I asked him whether he had had a bar mitzva and he said no. I asked him whether he was willing to have a bar mitzva now. He was surprised that he could celebrate it at his age and happily agreed. After he put on t’fillin for the first time in his life, we agreed to stay in touch.
Rabbi Berenshtein has many unusual stories to tell. Here’s one:
“In Shvat of a year ago, someone called and asked me to contact a woman in a nearby village because she had a problem. I called her and learned that her friend, an American Jew, had died of a heart attack in the middle of the tour and she was beside herself with grief.
“The man, around sixty years old, had lived completely alone after cutting off ties with his family, and nobody wanted to help at this point. The American consulate couldn’t help fly him to the US because no relative there was willing to take responsibility for his body. Of course we got involved with this Meis Mitzva.
“As a last resort, I called the ZAKA organization in Eretz Yisroel. Within a day, they had managed to locate his brother who gave permission to bury him, but he himself did not want to get involved. I spoke with members of the community in Kochi who agreed to have him buried in the local Jewish cemetery. For the first time in my life I did a tahara and took care of all aspects of the burial.
“With great difficulty, we managed to get ten Jews to escort him on his final journey. He was very far from Jewish observance. The woman told us that as far as he was concerned, his body could be donated towards research. Who knows whether, if he had died somewhere else, he would have merited a Jewish burial. An interesting postscript to this story is that she sent us a photograph that had been taken a few days before he died when they were in Kochi. In the picture, he is standing in front of the gate to the cemetery where he is buried. It’s eerie, as though he saw the future. His desire to be photographed there is surprising, particularly when his Jewish roots did not interest him.”
As to the difference between working with the local Jews as opposed to tourists, Rabbi Berenshtein says:
“Working with the community is very different than working with tourists. When we arrived in Kochi, we found out that the head of the k’hilla had died the month before. When we wrote about this to the Rebbe, we opened to two interesting answers. One was in connection to someone who began working in a certain place, and although it’s known that all beginnings are difficult, for him it was easy and the Rebbe wished him success. The second letter was sent to the father of Rabbi Akselrod who lived in Ramat Gan and was the rav of the Chabad shul there. The Rebbe blessed him to be a fitting successor. We were very excited by these answers.
“The Jewish k’hilla here is divided between two neighborhoods with one part of the community living near us. We are there every day. There is another small community further away which we visit once every two weeks and where I am accepted as a rabbinic authority.
“We have a good relationship with the members of the community. The people in the community are very warm Jews. We try to build connections between them and the tourists.
“Before we came here, minyanim were a rarity. We, who work with the tourists, bring them to the shul and there is a minyan every Shabbos. There are many Jews originally from India who live in Eretz Yisroel and come back here to visit. This helps a lot. Every Shabbos we have about fifty guests of all backgrounds and from all points on the globe.”
90% HUMIDITY AND CREATURES IN THE HOUSE
The Berenshteins are working on building a mikva, a project they started on immediately. It’s not simple and it’s very expensive, but it is vital when you consider how far away the nearest mikva is.
“When we first came here, we were determined to build a mikva. It is not something that can be postponed. We spent a lot of time looking for a place to build it. At first, one of the locals agreed to have it in his yard, but when the contractor showed up to start the work, he got cold feet.
“We tried getting the consent of the president of the k’hilla for the mikva to be built in the yard of the shul, but he adamantly refused. We wrote to the Rebbe about this and the answer we opened to was interesting. The Rebbe wrote that a believing Jew knows that until he sees the hashgacha pratis in an incident, he did not see anything. In the second letter it said that since they have a share in the shul, it is necessary to have shiurim there. Indeed, since we opened to that answer, we started a shiur in the shul.
“One day, I decided the time had come. Some of the young members of the community joined me and we headed towards the home of the president of the k’hilla. When he heard my request, he began shouting, ‘What do I need a mikva here for? As long as I live, I won’t allow it.’
“His answer took all the wind out of our sails. The president is actually a good friend of ours, but for some reason, he was opposed to a mikva. My gloomy mood changed when I remembered the Rebbe’s answer – so long as you haven’t seen the hashgacha pratis in the incident, you haven’t seen anything. As a last resort, I decided to send my wife to talk to him. I figured I had nothing to lose.
“Surprisingly, when she told him about why it was important to have a mikva, he accepted what she had to say and was no longer opposed. ‘If the rest of the community agrees, then I agree too.’
“We decided to strike while the iron is hot. We signed all the papers and within a few days there were tractors on the site. It will be the biggest mikva in India. The skeleton is in place and they are working on completing it.
“Rabbi Yoel Kaplin, shliach in Kasol, helped us tremendously. He has experience in building mikvaos. He guided us in how to work with the contractor and engineer and which materials to buy and where.
“Rabbi Boaz Lerner, an expert on mikvaos from Nachalat Har Chabad, will check the kashrus of the mikva and give it his approval. Since we didn’t want to delay the construction, we took loans from friends. We were only able to raise a third of the money that we need and I take this opportunity to ask whoever is able, to make a donation towards our mikva. It is vital for the community and for the many tourists who visit.”
I asked Rabbi Berenshtein what difficulties he has had to contend with on shlichus. He said:
“There are certain hardships that we got used to and others that are hard to get used to. Even though we are careful to close the windows, there are days that our home turns into a sort of zoo with all sorts of animals, bugs and winged creatures taking up residence. One morning, a few weeks ago, we woke up to the sound of loud cries. We went to the living room and saw six kittens that somehow got into the house. We manage with the animals but the hardest part of living here is the 90% humidity, day in and day out. It’s unbearable.
“When I was in Eretz Yisroel last Purim, I brought my t’fillin for checking to an expert in Yerushalayim. They needed a lot of work because leather is very sensitive to humidity. It looks like I will have to have my t’fillin taken care of every year. A damp item of clothing turns moldy within hours.
“Another thing which is hard for me personally, is the lack of Chassidishe farbrengens with friends. It is only when you are cut off from Chassidishe life that you realize how important it is. I had a dream recently in which I was at a farbrengen and I was crying tears of joy.”
As for the Besuras Ha’Geula in Kochi:
“That is our shlichus. Every evening at suppertime we show videos of the Rebbe and there are always segments on Moshiach. People write to the Rebbe through the Igros Kodesh and many people become connected to the Rebbe. Every Shabbos, we talk about Moshiach with our guests. We have not encountered anyone who refused to cooperate because of the topic of Moshiach; on the contrary, it’s something that gives hope, and people yearn for hope.
“I occasionally hear pessimistic talk from people in the community when they compare life today to the glory days of the community. It is only the topic of Moshiach, and the fact that I promise them that Moshiach is coming imminently, and the shul will go along with all the other shuls in the world to Eretz Yisroel, and it will be filled from end to end, that encourages them and makes them yearn for the Geula.”