Even in Dharamsala, where the skies are blue and spring has arrived in northern India, the war has had a significant impact.
There are no missile sirens in this Himalayan backpacker destination, but canceled flights, delayed shipments, and a severe gas shortage have disrupted Passover preparations for Itai and Rachel Zohar, emissaries of Lev Yehudi - a Jewish outreach center serving Israeli travelers established by Torah Mitzion.
Their solution was as practical as it was old-fashioned: kashering kitchen utensils over a wood fire.
This year’s opening of the season in Dharamsala came with unusual challenges. Shipping delays and travel disruptions threatened plans to launch activity ahead of Passover, but with patience and faith, the Zohar family arrived and opened the house in time for the Seder and for another season of Shabbat meals, workshops, classes, music, and hospitality.
For many Israeli backpackers, and often for soldiers after their army service, Dharamsala is one stop on the “big trip,” the long post-army journey that has become a rite of passage for many young Israelis. Lev Yehudi has built its mission around that moment, offering travelers a place that combines warmth, Jewish identity, and a sense of home.
The timing has given that work added meaning.
India is far from Israel’s battlefronts, but the effects of global instability travel quickly. A war in the Middle East can still be felt in the Himalayas through shortages, logistics problems, and a chain of disruptions that reaches even a small Jewish house preparing for the holiday.
Israeli emissaries adapt to gas shortage
That reality turned a routine pre-Passover task into something more symbolic. Faced with the gas shortage, the emissaries adapted and kept going. The kitchen was prepared, the house was opened, and the season began.
Lev Yehudi describes itself as a “spiritual station” for travelers seeking meaning alongside freedom and adventure. In a stage of life often defined by distance from home and structure, the center aims to add another layer to the Jewish and Israeli identity of those who pass through its doors.
This Passover, that message feels especially resonant. Back in Israel, war shapes daily life in immediate ways. In Dharamsala, it shows up more quietly, in missing supplies and delayed arrivals. Yet the result is the same: Jewish life continues, and so does the effort to create community, meaning, and connection far from home.