Shmaltz Island and the College Lesson

This fanciful parable has been told at many a Jewish campsite, but this is basically the version I heard from my uncle Rabbi Moshe Chanowitz (at a Jewish teen overnight) and this is the one I recently told my children as a bedtime story. I tweaked it slightly to make the old Shtetl story sound more contemporary.

Shmerl failed miserably at everything. He couldn’t sell stereos because everyone was buying iPods, then  when he starting selling hats they suddenly went out of style. His tailoring was off and so was his accounting, and whatever he did flopped. One day, after being fired from yet another job, he saw a sign in the marketplace that read:

“TRIP TO DIAMOND ISLAND! Diamonds are plentiful, only cost is the Voyage…”

It sounded too good to be true, almost like a spam email from the wife of a deceased tycoon in Nigeria. But he contacted the number on the sign, and the guy on the other end seemed genuine enough and non-pressuring. He tossed the idea back and forth, and finally mustered enough guts to tell it to his wife, who was frustrated with her husband’s constant unemployment. She thought it was another pipe dream at first, but then figured, what the heck – it’s worth a try. So she pawned off something else in the house, and he bought himself a ticket.

All trip long Shmerl looked out to the sea, trying to get a glimpse of this wondrous island. Then, finally, it came into view. It was glistening! It was literally shining in the bright sun. He rushed off the ship when it docked and could not believe his eyes. Everywhere he looked were diamonds. The beach had no sand, only diamonds! He scooped up two handfuls and stuffed the pockets of his worn-out old brown suit.

Then he realized he was hungry. And now he had money. So he went off to the first strip he saw, and walked into a classy restaurant. He sat himself down and ordered the most expensive items on the menu. The food was delicious and he never treated himself like this in his life.

When the waiter brought him the bill – it was a small fortune. But he magnanimously pulled out a small diamond from his pocket, and told the waiter to keep the change. The waiter stood there dumbfounded. Shmerl encouraged him to take and not worry about it, he could well afford it.

Then the waiter explained that diamonds were worthless. They were so plentiful out on this island. Anyone could go out and get a scoop of the pretty stones. But you can’t buy lunch with that. The problem dawned on Shmerl, and then he asked what type of currency would be acceptable. The waiter told him that the prime currency on this island was “Shmaltz” – rendered chicken fat. Chickens were rare, shmaltz was rarer, and people literally hoarded the stuff.

But I have no Shmaltz, protested Shmerl. The waiter wasn’t sure what to do, so he spoke to the manager, who insisted that Shmerl at least work off his bill in the restaurant kitchen.

Wonder of wonders – the same Shmerl who failed at everything, did great in the kitchen. He was industrious, ingenious, and in no time worked his way up from dishwasher to sous chef, to manager, and then he bought out the place. He had quite a stash of Shmaltz and invested in opening another restaurant on the other side of the island. Then he branched out into real-estate, and then another business, and in a short time Shmerl was well-to-do. In chicken Shmaltz.

It was finally time to head home and share the wealth with his family. He sold his successful enterprises and loaded his many loaded and locked chests of Shmaltz onto a ship headed back home. On the island, they kept the Shmaltz in underground vaults, where it was cool. In the hot sun on the open sea, the Shmaltz began to spoil and the chests had a tremendously foul odor. But Shmerl was rich and happy, without a care in the world.

When he arrived, he was greeted by his wife and children – all eager to see the many suitcases of diamonds. Shmerl laughed at them, explained that diamonds are worthless, and told them he brought enough Shmaltz for them to live in great wealth all their lives. They thought he lost his mind!

Then he realized. The whole purpose of his journey was to bring home diamonds, and he got sidetracked and distracted by what was valuable there, but had no value at all once he came home. He searched frantically among his belongings and found his old brown suit with the two scoopfuls of diamonds still inside the pockets. But it was small consolation when he realized the great opportunities he missed out on.

My Uncle Moshe would conclude, so too, our souls descend into this world with a G-dly mission, but we get sidetracked and caught up with the “currency” of this world, often to the detriment of our mission. And that’s what I shared with my kids in the bedtime story.

But I realize now, that there’s a profound message here for students in their college experience:

Psychologically, many students treat their college years as an escape or vacation from reality. I have heard this from students in all kinds of ways. Here’s one example:

“Rabbi, one day I want to have a Jewish family. I envision my wife and the mom of my kids to be ABC or XYZ. But right now in college, that’s not what I’m looking for. When I settle down, things will be different.”

Often they won’t. College isn’t an escape, and the transition back in to the “real world” isn’t always a complete break from four intense years of choices and entanglements. These years, and the choices we make in these years, the experiences we invest ourselves in, help form who we are, and who we become.

Shmerl probably originally thought he’d work off his bill and pay up in Shmaltz, and then pack up boxes of diamonds and get out. But he didn’t. One thing led to another, he lost sight of his goals, he got caught up in what seemed like success, and there was probably a good deal of peer-pressure in the mix, too.

And when it was time to go home, to the real world, he didn’t snap back and think – Oh, in the real world I need diamonds not Shmaltz. It doesn’t always work that way. Shmaltz became his obsession, his dreams and his life. His whole life revolved around it, it changed his way of thinking.

True, college is not exactly the real world, and a little Shmaltz here and there is OK. But thinking that “what happens in college, stays in college” is dangerous, escapist and untrue. It is going to affect us.