Entering the very stronghold (well, a branch of it) of the people that have persecuted me and are still censoring me was difficult. However, not only because of the personal angle of the visit, the experience was definitely scary. The sophisticated surveillance camera by the entrance (there were more inside) and the uniformed Thai policeman placidly sitting enjoying the air conditioner told most of the story even before I entered.
Despite the fears, I walked around the sumptuous restaurant where orthodox Jews dressed up in their custom clothes ate kosher fast food. It wasn't a place where I would stop for a meal; the important thing - and here it was doubly so - is what came out of the mouth, not what is put inside. Following a quick glance at the kosher menu and the dinners, I climbed the fancy staircase to the upper floor, which resembled a retreated balcony upon the restaurant. I couldn't help noticing that a young man was standing at the balcony, apparently busy in prayers, but facing the entrance door.
While exploring the huge upper floor, the preying prayer kept moving around while looking at me; in my casual clothes and backpack, I stood aside of the orthodox crowd. I did two full rounds of the room, to be sure of my suspicions, and he kept looking at me; apparently he was disguised security.
I approached him in an indirect path, using a handy column in my path to block his line of sight, then I stood right behind him. He slowly continued his sunflower-like ritual; when turning backwards he was surprised to see me standing inches from him, looking intently at his face.
His sigh was an acknowledgment of having been disclosed. Unceremoniously, he close his false prayers book and asked me in Hebrew:
"What's your question?"
What would have happened have I failed understanding the old language?
"Do you have a travel agency here?" I asked in Hebrew. Answering a question with a question had disclosed my cultural roots; however, it failed breaking up the tension.
"A travel agency would be business - in a show of vanity, he pronounced the last word in English - and we are above that here."
"Aren't you selling cooked food downstairs?" I countered, but literally we were standing above the food business. The irony was lost on him.
Choosing not to explain his lack of logic (which was surprising considering the organization's name), he offered to show me around; after a short while he mysteriously disappeared into a side door without even saying good-bye. But I have seen the place, and shaking my shoes by the entrance, left; I didn't want sand from there to stick on them.
ChabadBased in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, Chabad-Lubavitch is one of the largest Hasidic movements in Pharisaic-Orthodox Judaism. The name is a pretentious Hebrew acronym for "chochmah, binah, da'at;" it means "wisdom, understanding, knowledge," making reference thus to the ultimately legalistic (Pharisaic) stream in Judaism, though they rely on the talmud and kabbala for their interpretations of classical Judaism rather than on the Bible itself. The talmud interprets the Pentatheuc according to oral traditions, rather than through religious principles, and ignores the rest of the Bible, mainly due to its Messianic content.
In modern Israel they are known for their attempt to convert secular Jews into Hasidic, ultra-orthodox ones. As such, they operate big centers in all the places frequented by secular Israeli tourists, as Bangkok is. Similar centers exist in
Kathmandu and
La Paz; they still do not have a branch in
Jinghong.
According to them, a Christian born to Jewish parents (as I am), is called "meshumad" (meaning "utterly destroyed") or "mityaven" ("transformed himself into Greek," but wasn't He one of us?). My reluctance to enter the place can be understood under the circumstances.
The RestaurantThe Chabad restaurant occupies the whole ground floor of their building in Bangkok; it serves kosher food and caters mainly to orthodox and ultra-orthodox Jews in Bangkok, a small community of the last lives in Bangkok as gems' traders.
It is divided in two areas, the one next to the entrance and in view from the balcony, where a few backpackers were chatting, and the backside, where the crowd of orthodox patrons were seated.
Compared to the other restaurants reviewed in this journal, this one is obviously richer, with solid furniture and a wealthy look. At the time of my visit - during the early afternoon - it was half full.
The First FloorThe first floor was where most of the tourism related activities took place, above it was an auditorium; the last was closed.
On the back side of the first floor was a library occupying a big chunk of the wall. Three columns contained classical Pharisaic literature, while the last one - the sweet trap - contained travel books and novels, several of them in Hebrew.
At the central part of this area were internet services; about ten computers provided web connection to an obviously larger crowd.
Donations boxes were all around the room, each one was marked for a different cause; the openly giving in public - including names of main donors on wall signs - made me remember what was said in the Bible about such public offerings; for sure, the signs would be the donors' unique reward. In the backside of the room were two rooms dedicated to Jewish studies; as I suspected, they were empty.
A large board provided information on current issues, including offers to work in Japan. The thing may come as a surprise to outsiders, but the connection is clear. Orthodox Jews are among the worldwide largest traders on diamond and gems; in an attempt to help Israeli backpackers, they provide them with cheap silver knickknacks and contact addresses in Japan; there, the sight of Israeli backpackers selling silverware at the night markets is common.