Why can't you make up your mind?

So tomorrow I’m going to New York/New Jersey for a week. A surprise from my mother to surprise my brother for his graduation. Yayyyy…. Time to stock up on GAP clothes, DVDs, and country music.
I ended up going to the Misrad Hapnim, the stuff of nightmares, being denied expedited “passport” services (I can’t leave Israel on an American passport anymore), and then bursting into tears. The manager felt so uncomfortable that she hurriedly told me that I should come back tomorrow and it would be ready. Get out, get out, she said to the sobbing mass that was me.
Before I started crying she was screaming at me that I was ridiculous for coming in here and demanding a Teudat Maavar almost immediately, and yelling that this was a government office and not an office for mothers who want to surprise brothers. She then (Oh G-d…) caught sight of my American passport in my hand, which was kind of like waving a red flag in front of a bull. She suddenly got inexplicably furious, threw an angry finger pointing in the direction of this apparently disgusting passport and she just kept asking me if I had any idea how long it took to get my American passport (and therefore how could I expect to get my Israeli one in one day?), and I just kept telling her that the last time I got a passport I was a minor and therefore my parents took care of it. In response she started yelling, repeating herself, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG IT TOOK TO GET THIS PASSPORT??!” So I started getting upset and yelled back that I just told her, I was a kid, a little girl, my parents took care of it. She just kept yelling, “DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK TO GET YOUR PASSPORT???” At this point I burst into tears, and started crying and saying that I was like 6 when I got my American passport for the first time, that my parents did it, that I didn’t remember. I continued sobbing hysterically that I just wanted to see my family, and that my mother didn’t know when she surprised me (on Monday.) that I couldn’t use my American passport to leave Israel.

Suddenly the woman goes, “It takes three months for American passports. B’seder, come back tomorrow and you’ll get your Teudat Maavar. Just go. Get out, get out.”



I’m a little scared because a week is just long enough to feel like, “Yay, I’m happy to be speaking English, I’m happy I get to see my family, etc etc etc” but not long enough to really want to go back to Israel. In recognition of that, I’d like to say two things about Israel that make me laugh:

1) Yesterday I was getting on a bus with friends to go see a movie (Angels and Demons---seriously, Dan Brown, you have a vendetta against the Catholic church). My last friend to get on the bus let out a sort of yelp of pain, and then asked the bus driver in Hebrew, “Why did you close the door on my foot???”

And then bus driver yells at her, “Why can’t you make up your mind???” Which causes me to start laughing uncontrollably. As my friends and I make our way to the back of the bus, I hear the bus driver muttering (quite loudly) to himself, “Jeez, are you getting on the bus or not? Make up your mind……Fuck!….”

Which I just loved. You know that in the US the bus driver would have apologized without even thinking twice about it, but in Israel if the bus driver closes the door on you, it’s your own damn fault for not getting on the fucking bus immediately.


2) I love the Israeli equivalent of “Enjoy your meal.” Except in the US the only person who would wish you something like, “Enjoy your meal” would be your waiter. Here, if anyone in a 50 ft radius sees that you are eating something, they tell you to enjoy it. On the kibbutz, as I walked through the dining hall with a lunch/dinner tray to a table, every other table I passed would without fail wish me a good meal. Today I grabbed a croissant as on-the-go breakfast and sat down on some low wall to eat it. There I was, crumbs all over my shirt and face, and no less than five complete strangers who walked by told me Bon Appetit in Hebrew.

So although I love America for its country music, it’s easy to understand government, and for my native language, at least Israel has angry bus drivers closing doors on people and people wishing you an enjoyable meal.