We were entering uncharted waters, literally. The island of St. Lucia is a place where Chabad has never been, an island famous for pleasure-seeking travelers basking in the wonder of the undiscovered, the adventure of the unfamiliar, and the stimulation of the exotic.

It is also home to the International American University College of Medicine – a school where American kids who did not get into American medical schools are offered a second chance at their dream career.

Picturing an island paradise of beautiful resorts and tourists sipping cool drinks under swaying coconut trees, we were shocked to see that many of the islanders living in the Vieux Fort Quarter live in abject poverty.

The feeling of want is overwhelming; makeshift housing is sometimes shared by multiple families. Walking through the streets of Vieux Fort, a feeling of sadness hits me, as fragmented pieces of tin line the outside of people's huts. Women congregate by the well with their pitchers waiting to get their much-needed daily water supply.

Yet we decided that this is where we would spend Shabbos, as our only Shabbat guest lives nearby.

Gary is a specialist in the field of fertility and twinning, as well an Orthodox Jew. He has lectured at Harvard and at Yale. He comes to St Lucia to lecture for months at a time.

The rest, he divides between New York and Jerusalem.

As we prepared to welcome the Shabbat with the universal melodies which unite Jewry worldwide, my co-rover, Moshe, remembered he had left some items for the meal in our room.

On his way to retrieve them he heard a loud "Shalom." Turning around, he saw a young Jewish student. Moshe seized the opportunity and proceeded to invite him to join our Shabbat meal.

Gary was totally taken aback. He had been coming to St. Lucia for three years now, and had not interacted with a single Jew, yet we, who weren't here for twenty-four hours, had already met six Jews, and now another one is coming to join us.

In his words: "This only Chabad can do."