When people enter the S. Petersburg Synagogue, if they're not being herded by the cruise tour-guide, they often approach me on their own. This approach is no ordinary 'Hello, how are you?' or 'Could you please help me?' No. This look is most similar to one an explorer would wear when approaching some newly discovered tribe in the uncharted jungles of the Amazon or Papua, New Guinea.

A typical conversation goes something like this:

Tourist:
Pointing to himself (though in truth I should say herself – due to an unforeseen quirk of chivalry, women are often the first to enter, while the menfolk hold the door open)
"Shalom."

Me:
"Hi. How are you doing today?"

Tourist:
"We -Americans. Amerikansky. Americans . . . Yes. We no speak Russian – No. English – Yes. Russian – No." -I almost expect someone to raise his hand one day and say 'We come in peace.'

Me:
"Yes, I see. I'm from Los Angeles . . . Where are you from?"

Tourist:
"No. We are not from Los Angeles. Los Angeles in California. We – Florida. Florida. Flo-Ree-Dah. Amerikansky."

Me:
"No, you see I am from Los Angeles. I was wondering where you were from."

Tourist:
"Well I'll be jiggered! I thought you spoke English rather well!"

More meaningful Conversation ensues...


The average Jew traveling Europe sees dozens and dozens of cathedrals and the like; often in places which he knows were formerly centers of Jewish life. There is something missing . . . he misses his own heritage.

The other day, for example, three families entered through the sweeping Moorish arches of the synagogue. One was affiliated with Chabad in D.C., while the other two were self described Reformed and secular Jews respectively (I told them that labels were for supermarkets, not for Jews).

As I showed them around the synagogue, I asked one of the husbands – we'll call him Ira (not that his name was Ira but I have yet to meet an Ira who isn't Jewish) –if he wanted to put on Tefillin. He demurred.

As the tour progressed, I asked another member of the group if he wanted to put on Tefillin. Though this individual was nervous, as he had never done so before, he agreed to go ahead and do the Petersburg Tefillin Express (as I have since dubbed the experience of putting on Tefillin here). After the third man, who as mention supported Chabad, got in on the deal, Ira decided to put on Tefillin as well . . . it was a truly moving experience.