Russians and Pretty Girls

So yesterday I woke up bright and early to celebrate two things: 1) I was officially a citizen, and 2) I was going to Haifa to begin the search for an apartment…and any trip to Haifa is a celebration. Also, on a less exciting note, apparently yesterday it was also Jesus’ birthday or he came back to life or split the Red Sea in two or he defeated the Romans with lasers that came out of his eyes or something. Whatever.

I ended up spending a solid hour and a half in the central bus station. I just missed a bus to Haifa so I had to wait 40 minutes. Fine, whatever. When the second bus came I was maybe like fifth in line (if you can call the mass outside the terminal a “line”), which was incredible considering that the bus station was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a sea of people. People inside had seen that the bus had come, so they came outside to board…but the driver just sat in the bus with the door closed, so the tiny area between the door to the terminal and the door to the bus just became a sardine can…with me in the middle. Then…Oh G-d…the driver opens the door to the bus to announce that he can only allow people to board if they have a pre-bought ticket (to tell you how weird this is: I’ve had to pre-buy a bus ticket in Israel a grand total of Never times.). And, Oh G-d, I thought a riot was going to break out. It was really hot so it was perfect weather for tempers to flare. People were screaming in Hebrew, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US BEFORE???” And there was a lot of pushing and shoving as those with tickets tried to board and those without tried to get to the ticket counter in the terminal before anyone else. There were a few English speakers within the crowd who clearly had no idea what was going on and who were clearly freaked out by what was going on. One shouted to me, “DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?” “YES!”
He asked with visible fear in his eyes, “WHAT IS GOING ON?”

“YOU NEED TO HAVE A PRE-BOUGHT TICKET TO BOARD!” I said as I was carried away by the crowd of people between whom I was physically wedged.

Anyway, eventually I made it to the ticket counter but missed the bus…and had to wait another 40 minutes.

As if my day wasn’t off to a bad enough start, on the bus I ended up having an allergic reaction….on my face. As I’ve mentioned, I have very sensitive skin and have bad skin reactions to laundry detergent and certain skin products (certain moisturizers and so on and so forth). That morning I had tried a new facial cleanser with built in moisturizer…which apparently I’m allergic to. Thankfully it’s not like I’m deathly allergic, it’s just a slightly painful nuisance and it’s kind of embarrassing for your face to be red and have welts on it and itch like crazy. I ended up spending 30 minutes in the Haifa bus station in the bathroom, running cold water on my face. In the end the welts went down and stopped itching for the most part…except it looked like I got majorly sunburned.

Anyway, eventually I got onto the bus to take me to my first stop of the day. Since I had never been to this area before I asked the driver if he could tell me when we got to Street X. He gave me a confused look, and I was about to repeat myself, thinking that maybe my accent was just difficult for him to understand. Before I could, an Israeli asked the driver, “Does this route get to Street Y?” And the driver said, “Street Y? I don’t know…” The Israeli snapped, “What do you mean, you don’t know? How can you not know?” And the driver kind of shrugged and repeated that he didn’t know.

As the driver began driving, the answer became obvious: he was new. Extremely new. In fact, maybe he just got his license the day before. There were several times where he would turn the bus, and then have to stop and back up and then turn again because he was about to smash into cars going in the opposite direction. When there were no cars, sometimes he’d just go right over the median curb and then pop back over to the correct side as he straightened out. It was actually pretty cool, it was a bit like being on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland.

I ended up later on wandering around a mall in Haifa. It was slightly bizarre, because the last time I was there it was September and I was on my farewell tour of Israel. I remember there was this one part of the mall that wasn’t too happening and had a bunch of signs saying, “COMING SOON, AROMA CAFÉ” or whatever. As I was walking around the mall I saw this happening café and thought to myself, “Hmm, I don’t remember that being there…” but then I remembered the construction. Anyway, I know it’s sort of an obvious concept, but it was just sort of a bizarre realization for me that life moves on with or without me in the country. Whatev.

Later on as I was talking a bus back to the central bus station to go back to Jerusalem, the bus stopped not too far from the Bahai Temple. Though I guess since there’s only a few Bahai temples, anywhere in Israel could be considered “not too far from the Bahai Temple.” Anyway, as the bus stopped, a pretty girl started to board the bus, when all of the sudden from the opposite direction comes running a Russian guy holding a bouquet of roses. The bus was about to pull away when the Russian called out for it to wait, and pulled out one of the roses and handed it to the girl. As the bus pulled away, I had fun watching the Russian guy walk away with his bouquet of roses (minus one) and thinking about who and what he was. Who would he be giving a bouquet of roses to that he wouldn’t mind taking some roses from them to give to a pretty girl? Surely not a girlfriend…. Or maybe he just bought a bouquet of roses for no one in particular, and instead would give a rose away to anybody he came across that he found appealing. What I found especially interesting about the whole thing was the fact that he came running out of the complete opposite direction to give this girl a flower. Like, if he had yelled, maybe he would have said something like, “STOP, PRETTY GIRL! I DESPERATELY NEED TO GIVE YOU THIS FLOWER!”

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a guy sitting next to me. He had pit stains practically down to his waist, and he was radiating tangible humidity. The bus was air-conditioned, but sitting next to this guy felt like being in Tel Aviv in the middle of summer. His hair was dripping wet, but unfortunately for me I don’t think it was wet from a shower. I ended up spending the rest of the journey with my eyes closed in prayer. “Oh G-d…please don’t let his sweaty hair drip on me…please G-d…”

Finally finally finally it was time to go back to Jerusalem. Can I just say I really like bus rides in this country? I like to look out the window and constantly repeat in my head, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” Also, I feel a bit like Simba when Mufasa shows him a view of the kingdom and whatnot. Yeah, that’s right, I just made a Lion King reference. I figure it’s a refreshing change from the usual Brigadoon references on this blog.

Wow. I just realized the bi- and tri- roots in the words “billion” and “trillion.” Little by little, English is starting to make sense to me!

We ended up approaching Jerusalem around Mincha. There were many cars pulled to the side of the road, with men standing outside of their cars with prayer books, facing Jerusalem, and bending and bobbing in prayer. It was actually really cool to see.

As I waited in line to go through security at the bus station in Jerusalem (I said hi to Asi…but didn’t try to take a picture again), I heard English. And I realized that after leaving the bus station in Haifa (in the morning), I didn’t hear English in Haifa. Like, at all. Which would never in a million years happen in Jerusalem. Here in Jerusalem you can’t go five minutes without hearing English. Oh man….I guess it really is time to leave then