Thou Shalt Not Lie...Except to Israeli Customer Service

Let's dispense with the shaloms, shall we? Suffice is to say that yesterday will not go down as a top day in the Shining Pantheon of My Life.

It all started when I was late for the bus to ulpan, again. This time there was no way around it and I had to take a cab. Uch, I hate wasting money so much!! I also have been feeling very out of control in terms of my finances because I have not been logging all of my spending on the usual Excel spreadsheet.

Truly, most of my daily routines have gone out the window with aliyah.

The cab ride was very stressful because some truck drivers decided that rush hour was the opportune time to BLOCK THE ENTIRE ROAD in order to hook up some dumping contraption. I opened my car window and shrieked at them to "ZUZ!" (MOVE!) but of course that didn't help. It just made me feel better.

I did make it to ulpan on time but had to explain why I had missed the prior day. The truth is that I still consider Saturday night the 'woo hoo, time to go out' night, even though Sunday is really a working day here. So I did not get enough sleep and just could not drag my sorry carcass to ulpan that day. Of course I didn't tell the teacher that - white lie #1.

I also had a pressing appointment in Netanya, to meet some co-workers at my new PR job. In order to be there on time, I had to leave ulpan early. This did not please my teacher and I assured her this would not be the norm, explaining that "Pussycat, it hurts me more than it hurts you." (Okay, I didn't use those exact words, but you get the nekudah/point.)

So, I rushed off to catch the bus to Bnei Brak, where I would be meeting a connecting shuttle that would take me to Netanya. I've already complained about the rude bus drivers here, but this dude will go down in the Hall of Fame of Disgruntled Nahagim. When I asked him about the right stop, he grunted at me to ask my fellow passengers.

As if!! After much screaming by me (it's a necessity to get what you need here) I finally figured out where I had to get off. A nice young girl who probably thought I was some ridiculous tourist pointed me to the exact stop, and I rushed off the bus.

About half a minute later I realized that I was no longer in possession of one of my two tote bags (call me a bag lady if you must). And guess what was in that tote? Not my passports, thank G-d, but all of my ulpan materials. Clearly, I am not a position to ace this course, especially considering that we have a test on Wednesday. How my Israeli grammar is going to suffer.

Back to the transportation story from Hell. I had missed my connecting shuttle and ran frantically into some stores in Bnei Brak, where a nice greengrocer looked in the phone book and helped me find another shuttle (at a high price). It was worth it in the end and I'll tell you why.

I called the bus company to explain that I literally had just gotten off the bus and knew the identifying numbers for both the driver and the bus (which were on my ticket). The representative, in what I am told is typical Israeli fashion, told me that the bus company does not, as a practice, keep the private phone numbers of their individual bus drivers.

This mystified me - how the heck do you run a company without knowing the numbers of your bus drivers?? The rep insisted she could not call the bus driver and said I would have to be satisfied with leaving my contact information with her, and she would call me if something was found.

Usually I joke about these matters, but I was really appalled by her baffling lack of sympathy. Having reached my breaking point, I launched into a tirade for the benefit of my driver whereby I screeched that I was an Olah Chadasha and just could not understand why people are so mean. I didn't get why people invited us to come to the country and then treated us like crap over the most mundane matters???

I guess the driver alternately pitied me and was terrified of my wrath, because he voluntarily called the Bus Company of Idiocy back and pretended that I was his friend and had left my passports and other extremely sensitive materials in the bag. Could they check with the driver? Suddenly they could!!

What a miracle - the bus driver's number appeared out of thin air!!All because we obeyed the commandment, "Thous Shalt Lie to Israeli Customer Service."

Today, the lovely driver also picked up the bag in Tel Aviv, so I need to take a bus (shudder) back there tonight to finally get the bag back in my possession, and give the driver a nice little reward. You can bet I am not letting that dang bag out of my sight - those ulpan materials are irreplaceable.

When I told my Dad the story, he remarked that I keep losing things, and he is right: My change purse (didn't blog about that but got it back after going to the bar I had been at the night before), of course the errant belt, and now this.

What it boils down to is that aliyah has made me lose my mind. But not my appetite.

So: I got out my complaints, and you can expect your normal, cheerful narrator back any day now. In the meantime, I'm going to eat some chocolate - it's the only cure.

Pilates?? Bueller??

Shavua tov, everyone. Hope you're enjoying your lazy Sundays. Here in Israel, it's the start of the work week, and...

You heard me correctly - Israelis work on Sunday!! That is such a hard thing to get used to and I have not yet wrapped my mind around it. I do have a job (and for that I thank G-d every day) but will not be starting it for a few weeks, so for me, it's the normal 'Post Shabbos/Saturday Night Revelry Recovery,' co-sponsored by Acamol/Tylenol and a huge breakfast that hopefully features an omelet.

Part of living the early oleh (new aliyah) life is trying to find an apartment, unless you are lucky enough to have a relative that lets you live in their apartment rent-free (lucky brats). I am not one of those privileged leprechauns, so I thusly have been hopping from friend to friend, feeling like a hobo with a bag on a stick (nevermind that my bag is pink, utterly feminine, completely adorable and has a huge Adidas logo). Everyone has been really nice about accomodating me but of course, I have had to adapt to their lifestyles and be as unintrusive as possible.

This morning, my friend's roomate was having a Pilates class in their living room from 8-9am. Hmm. In any case, it was important for me to be quiet for that hour and let the human pretzels do their thing. I tried, oh how valiantly I tried. I was a quiet little mouse until 9am, and at 9:12 I picked up my Pele phone and got down to business, patting myself on the back for waiting 12 extra minutes to give the roomate time to clean up.

As it turns out, the class went on longer and I was yapping so loudly into the phone the roomate had to ask me to pipe down. I can just imagine what the Pilate-ists thought of my convos. In any case, of course I lowered my voice, and then resumed my apartment hunt with new fervor.

My food intake has also been frighteningly affected by all this hopping about. Now, you all know that I need my food, and massive quantities of it, or I turn into Little Miss CrankyPants (who is a Debbie Downer at every party or random life event). For the past few days, I haven't been in one place for more than one night, and consequently, have to take it meal-by-meal. It's very hard for me not to have a refrigerator I can attack at random intervals, and this morning, I find myself in a stuation wherein it is 11am and I have not yet eaten. (Cry me a river!)

This is unheard of for me of on any day that's not a fast day, just ask any family member/friend/someone who has spoken to me for more than one minute. So I am dashing off this blog entry to you - which sadly is STILL not Part II of my aliyah (sorry Tammar) - and then I'm headed out for a huge Israeli breakfast. Which I will enjoy immensely and during which, I will not think of calories, fat grams, dietary fiber or any annoying nutritional value of the sort.

Hope you're staying warm with chestnuts roasting on an open fire and Swiss Miss hot choco warming up in your microwave.