With one week down and three weeks to go teaching in Peking University’s MBA program in Beijing, I finally laid eyes on what I had been waiting to see. It wasn’t the Great Wall, Tiananmen Square or Olympic Park. It was the minyan for the lay-led Shabbat service held in Beijing’s bustling Chaoyang District. I had found the other wandering Jews. And for the first time since I had flown 8,000 miles from New York, I felt like I was home.