Yom hamesh’i
7:45 AM
Chaim and I are settled on the bus to Ashdod. He eats his favorite breakfast- a cinnamon roll. I am sipping on my favorite iced coffee from Aroma. We are looking forward to a good, but long, day ahead.
9:15 AM
It feels as if we are dropped off in middle of nowhere, although we are in front of a mall. Yet, we are unsure of where exactly we are supposed to meet Shira, our host. Chaim calls and she says to meet at the gas station. Okay….
A Russian man works at his task of putting together plugs.
9:40 AM
Shira, Chaim, and I are greeted by an American, Rachel. She made aliyah (immigrated) to Israel in 1959. She is thrilled to be speaking English upon finding out that I know little Hebrew. She says that she is from Chicago. It is difficult to believe that she is an American. She takes us inside to see her operation that she is in charge of. She is showing us two different places that work on the same tasks- putting electrical plugs together. She keeps reminding us that this particular place “is not a factory.” She emphasizes that it’s a social place for the men, who are in their 70s and 80s. These tasks make them feel productive. They earn 300-400 shekels a month, minimum wage. They are all on government pensions already but these extra shekels help to make their lives a bit more comfortable. Their wives are at home. Standing with us, is a young, gorgeous, tall Russian woman who is serving as a translator as part of her national service (instead of serving in the Army). She looks like a model with beautiful face, make-up, and long hair.
The men actually used to get paid more before the downturn. But the company decided that it was better to reduce their pay to minimum wage rather than to lay off workers. It’s a different business system here, for sure.
Ethiopian women hard at work
10:10 AM
We are at another place, where the Ethiopian women are working. They are, like the men, hard at work. We notice a huge glass cabinet full if Ethiopian clay pieces. They are quite a sight to see. We are taken to the back where a lone woman is carefully preparing her clay for sculpting. She has many pieces behind her. Chaim and I each given a piece. I have a statute of a frog. He has a more interesting one- a shell with a man and woman wrapped around each other. It’s a marriage custom in Ethiopia that the shell’s status reflects the communication between the husband and wife. When the shell is open, they are in agreeable mood, open to discussion. When the shell is closed, it signifies that there is absolutely nothing to talk about. Everyone thinks it is a genius idea.
The communication tool for marriages
10:45 AM
Chaim and I are dropped off at the bus station/mall. We wonder what the heck we are supposed to do for the rest of the day. Chaim says, “Let’s just go to Tel Aviv.”
11:40 AM
Chaim looks at our bus tickets and says, “They are the same!” Both of our tickets say 8.10 shekels. I shrug, “So? It’s cheap.” He responds, “I should get 50% off! I paid 9 shekels to Ashdod!” A minute later, an older woman enters the bus and the driver charges her 4.10 shekels. Chaim grumbles and insists that he will tell the bus driver. I soothe him to wait until we got to Tel Aviv. And to let it go, really.
12:45 PM
Chaim is loudly arguing with three men, including the supervisor who is wearing a kippah, from the bus company over the ticket. I have to cover my mouth to hide my amusement to watch Chaim yell at them, to get it off his chest. As I listen to the argument, I pick up some of the Hebrew. The men insist that Chaim should have asked the bus driver for the discount when he got on the bus. Eventually the supervisor and Chaim calm down and the supervisor blesses Chaim a good, long life. I continue to speak to Chaim in Hebrew to prove that we, as Americans, know what the hell we are doing here. I encourage him, “boyah, Chaim, boyah” as we make our way towards the city buses.
1:30 PM
Chaim and I are relaxing outside Café Hillel on Rothschild Boulevard. The iced tea is a different story. The waiter brings Chaim hot water with mint leaves (nana tee) in a glass mug and another glass full of ice cubes. Chaim realizes what he is supposed to do. As he “makes” his own, he says, “You have to be very, very flexible here.” I nod in agreement. Israelis like that. That’s how they survive in this conflicted country. Chaim and I discuss Israel, our favorite topic.
2:15 PM
We are walking past Max Brenner’s, a chocolate shop/restaurant. Chaim insists that we go inside, “You cannot walk past Max Brenner’s without buying chocolate!”
2:30 PM
Chaim and I are standing on Allenby Street, waiting for a 4 or 5 bus to take us to the Ben-Yehuda intersection for a walk to the beach. I tell him to be patient, as there are a lot of buses that come. He notices the traffic, “They go fast here!” It isn’t certainly Jerusalem!
3:15 PM
Chaim and I are resting on a bench, looking over the calm water. I notice the deep grooves in the sand. Chaim says, “The beaches are a mess because of that huge rainstorm that we had two weeks ago.” It looks like as if anyone could sprain an ankle just walking across the sand to the water. We people-watch for a while.
4 PM
It gets chilly out so we are now walking to Dan Tel Aviv, a fancy hotel that Chaim used to stay at. I want a picture so I ask a couple. The woman takes a picture of us. She and her husband ask what languages we speak. Chaim and I reply, “Ivrit, English, Deutsch, and Yiddish….” They start talking in Deutsch to me and I respond that we are from America, New York… they do not understand immediately… then they turn to Chaim for Hebrew. Apparently, Deutsch is their mother tongue, which is why they wanted to speak Deutsch first. They claim that they are from America as well. Chaim and I are skeptical as they speak no English to us, even though it’s clear that Chaim and I are native English speakers and American-born.
4:45 PM
Chaim and I are watching the sun set over the Mediterranean Sea. Chaim is completely at peace. The waitress brings us our drinks- margarita and mojito. I look at my mojito. It does not look right. The liquid is brown. There are no limes. Chaim insist that I did order right, it was mojito. I swirl the straw to see what citrus fruit is in there. It is not green but… more yellow, or possibly orange. I ask, why is the water brown then? Chaim looks at the drink, “I think those are oranges…” I make a face and say, “Well, then I don’t want this drink. I did ask for a mojito but I won’t touch it if it has oranges!” Chaim clinks my glass with his margarita and begins to sip. I say, “Well, then I will just taste…” I taste the drink. It is mojito. Then it hits me. Instead of cane or white sugar, the bartender used brown sugar, and lemons, instead of limes. Then I sigh. I turn to Chaim and say, “Well, as you said earlier, you just gotta be flexible here in Israel. Very flexible.” I look at my drink and blink my eyes.
The mojito that wasn't.
6:25 PM
The cab driver gets out angrily and glares at me. I hand him a 50 shekel bill. He takes it and says it’s 50 shekels. I knew that he would get upset. I had already bargained with him for 40 shekels and he thought we were just going to the old port, not the road behind it to get to the theater. I already knew that we would get lost. And he was trying to rip us off as American tourists for that Chaim spoke English to me when the cab driver wanted to make a bargain.
“It’s 50 shekels!”
“I want my 10 shekels back.”
“Back there, that’s 40 shekels. Here it’s 50 shekels! This is further away!”
“FORTY SHEKELS! We already agreed on it!” Clearly, I showed him what Jerusalem cab drivers had taught me.
He grumbles, takes out a 10 shekel and then slams it in my outstretched, open palm. He mutters angrily as he gets back in the car. He continues to yell after us for ripping him off. Chaim briefly explains to me what other cab drivers had told him that led us to here. I smile ruefully and told Chaim that I knew it would be more than 40 shekels and that we would get lost. Chaim says that he wasn’t going to get in middle of anything, with a smile on his face.
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