Cambodia is remote by most anyone’s estimation. After nearly 20 hours of flight, we finally arrived in Phnom Penh, the capital. Our rest, however, was short lived. After staying the night, we embarked early in the morning for the 10 hour bus ride to Siem Reap.

Home to the famous Angkor Wat ruins, Siem Reap is a tourist haven. Our mission was to not only find visiting Jews and invite them to our Seder, but to find a place to host the Seder as well!

Arriving the night before the Khmer new year, it seemed as if all the hotels in the city were already full to capacity. It was only after some two dozen attempts that we were able to find a hotel with space for our Seder. Imagine our surprise and delight when, minutes later, a woman and her daughter approached us asking if there was a Seder they could attend!

We were unsure how many people to expect, but as the holiday began, Jews from literally all over the world began to trickle in - France, Canada, Israel, Singapore, Germany, America, Portugal...

As the Jews in Siem Reap celebrated the city’s first ever public Seder, the awe in the room was palpable. Some of the guests began to cry as we sang holiday songs and discussed the story of Passover.

After the second cup of wine, I stepped outside to get more matzah for the Seder. As I opened the door, I saw a small group of people giving me a very long look. I looked back at them and during that moment it clicked. Speaking to them, they told me that they were Israelis. Not having a Seder, the four of them decided to head to a nearby restaurant and drink four cups of (non-kosher) wine to ‘honor Passover.’ They were completely taken aback that here in Siem Reap there was a Seder they could join. We invited them in as we began a stirring round of the song, Had Gadya. What a celebration!

Although the Kingdom of Cambodia is rich in natural resources, decades of war, genocide, and political unrest have left it one of the world’s poorest countries. Amid the abject poverty, there is a beacon of light—a beautiful Chabad Jewish Center, in the heart of Phnom Penh, the nation’s capital.

This Passover, my friend and I made the 8,000 mile journey from Brooklyn to Cambodia. Our bullet list for this trip was pretty straightforward—to make a meaningful connection with every Jewish person who calls Cambodia home.

David lives in Siem Reap, four hours away from the Chabad Center in Phnom Penh. We travelled there before the holiday to meet with some of our Jewish contacts. When we phoned David and introduced ourselves, his hostility was apparent immediately. “NO, I am not interested,” he said curtly, ending the call.

We couldn’t be satisfied with that. Without further ado, we pressed redial.

“David, we travelled so far to be here, and all we want to do is give you some matzah, can we please stop by for a few minutes?” Reluctantly, he agreed.

Several hours later, we found ourselves in David’s apartment. “Sit down,” he told us. “I have something to tell you. As you know, I didn’t always live here. But I’ve visited many times. Five years ago, I went through a really big crisis. I decided to run away and the best place I could think of was here. My parents raised me like their parents raised them—with the beauty of traditional Judaism. But I left that behind too. I wanted out of everything.” At this point, David cleared his throat, while tears filled his eyes. “Then, you boys called me. You heard my knee-jerk reaction. You called again. And I remembered that today is my father’s yahrtzeit (anniversary of passing). My father was a great man, a proud Jew. I know he must be happy that you’re here with me now. So…would I be able to put on tefillin in my father’s honor?”

We quickly recovered our bearings, and helped David with the tefillin and prayers. We then reached for the matzah we had brought, but David put out his hand to stop us. “Thank you, but there’s no need for that. I will be coming to spend the Seder night with you.”