Zohar is a mensh.

The entire story could end right there and everything would be said, but you deserve an explanation and one sentence is not great writing. How cruel this art is, because Zohar really is a mensh and that's all there is to be said about it.

Zohar is the emissary from the Habad movement to Daramsalla. His job is to provide Jewish services to the overwhelming number of Israelis here. We arrived on Friday afternoon, on the eve of the Feast of Tabernacles, Succoth in Hebrew. It was somewhat a surprise to see a black-hatted Loubavitcher setting up a Succa just a few minutes away from the seat of the Tibetan Government in Exile.

I should not have been surprised. Darhamkot, a country hamlet above McLoed Ganj is a little Israel, complete with techno parties, Rosh Pina style hippies, doctors, veteran travellers, ex-soldiers and even a synagogue. Even a Succah. Even Zohar.

Friday night the Succah filled up with singing and dancing and laughter. Israelis who back home would never go near a rabbi were drawn to the taste of home. Zohar is an Orthodox rabbi, and everything does not go. Women and men were separated and before anything could happen we were treated to a talk about the holiday.

But more than anything else was Zohar's way. In peace, with love and gentleness. This is no self-righteous joyless religious fanatic the likes of which we have all met in all religions and in every country. This is a man of tolerance and acceptance.

Marie-Do, for example, was made to feel more than at home and whenever she was around, Zohar made sure that everybody spoke English rather than Hebrew so that she wouldn't feel left out.

"Hamaskil Yavin"