I'm sitting here at work, reflecting on the last month plus and I'm compelled to write things up. Not because I have much new to say, but because I'm compelled. It's like a compulsion so, there we go.
This morning I had my first experience in planned laziness. I think that that is an important part of anyone's day -- the choice to be lazy, and I made the choice. So let's start with a quick anecdote, an ode, you might say, to my laziness. You also might not say that, but if you are not saying it because you are lazy then aren't you actually saying it?
I needed to return to the Maccabi central building to drop off some papers at the lab, and while there, I figured I would pop into the dental office. I chipped a tooth yesterday (blast you, delicious pretzels!) and I have been trying to figure out if I have dental coverage. I tried making an appointment using the various web based services but my limited skills seemed to point to the repeated response of "you can't do that." I didn't know if that meant that I didn't have dental coverage or I was just doing something wrong. Even odds on those options. I tried calling various numbers but got no information or live person. I did some digging and it seems that my medical plan is supposed to include some measure of dental so this means I was doing something wrong. Not shocked.
So while I was in the building, I decided to walk in and ask. The building is a quick walk of about 15 minutes from my building. Straight and a couple of quick turns. Very convenient. BNut I also learned that once you pay for a ride on certain public transport, you can have free transfers for a particular time span. My last step for this morning was going to be to get to work and that would require a bus trip so I worked backwards and figured that I could use the light rail to and from the medical building and then walk over to the bus, all for a single fee (8 NIS). So why should I walk extra and sweat like a monkey (h/t Ben Stiller) if I didn't have to. Planned laziness. It worked! So kudos to the free transfers. While I rode, I thought about some summing up that I could do. These are highlights of what I have learned thus far about the culture and people of Israel. I have no doubt that I will keep learning new stuff, but this is what I have right now.
First, the national religion is 2FA.
The practice of that religion requires one live and breath the holy binity of SMS and Whatsapp. And much like some religions, you might end up chatting with an AI that isn't really there and doesn't make any sense.
Take a number -- the country runs like a deli or a take-out counter. You show up someplace, odds are you will have to take a number just to speak with the secretary. I still haven't figured out some of the subtleties here (like in my bank).
You get a natinal ID number which I considered like a SSN except you throw yours around here with alarming frequency. It's safe because of the almighty 2FA I guess.
Next, people are very comfortable with each other. The "one big family" sense is true as long as you remember that in most families, there is as much arguing as anything else and sometimes, people forget your birthday or wear your sweater without asking. Underneath it all, they put up with you because they have to, but don't expect them to be polite. I get phone calls from numbers I don't recognize (I mean, I understand individual numbers but the combinations are unfamiliar) and when I pick up, whoever is on the other end starts by addressing me by my name (more later) and jumping right into whatever has to be said. No "Is Mr. Rosen there?" or Even "Hi, I'm calling from ______ and trying to reach _____." Just zero to conversation in no seconds flat. I'm trying to catch up before I even get started.
People assume competence or familiarity. This makes sense. If you call someone who shares your understanding of cultural norms, then all is well. But if you call me, I'm going to be so lost that I won't be able to tell Snarth from Woots.
This familiarity bleeds into text messages. Let's forget about the language barrier. I'm just talking the assumption that a text makes sense. This comes up most often in terms of deliveries. I get text messages telling me that my delivery is on its way. What delivery? I didn't order anything that I was expecting. But the third party deliverer doesn't know either -- it just says "give us more information about your address and be ready for a delivery." No "what" or "from whom" or even "approximately when." Just be ready and when the delivery guy calls you, be there.
You know all those jokes about civil servants and places like the DMV? Well, imagine an entire country that runs like that. So much stuff runs through governmental-type offices so the people who work there have that same laid back attitude until they don't. The brusqueness is real but it is supposed to be bilateral. Those of us who are nicer by nature don't get ahead in life. If you call, you will speak to a series of phone trees (similar to the US) but if you "press 3 for English" you might not get someone who speaks English. And if you ask for a call back in English, you might not get a call back, let alone one in English, or one during the same week. Or one that is familiar with why you called or is able to help you. So, yeah. And email? Send in English and it might get answered (by a non-English speaker sometimes) or maybe not. What they don't have in efficiency, they make up for in inefficiency.
As for the language, there is so much technical vocabulary that we take for granted. Learning how to ask where the bathroom is won't ensure that you can understand the recommendation to restart your router, or answer whether you have ever taken a prescription medicine for your liver, or set up your various pension options. You just get dropped in. I'm sure it is the same for non-English speakers in the U.S. but I'm just becoming sensitive to that now because I am the HFL learner and most people aren't trained HFL teachers.
The real heroes are the bus drivers. They take large buses onto 2 way streets that were built for donkeys. One-way donkeys. I'm surprised car makers haven't found ways to move side mirrors IN TO the car and I'm even more surprised that there aren't more accidents. The roads are winding, narrow and confusing, much like the ovens, the cans of shaving cream and the A4 paper. I have driven here and I don't look forward to doing it again. I'm working on getting a license just so that I have an extra form of ID. And all the cool kids are doing it, so...
People really do care. Under the gruff exterior, people really do want to help -- you just have to preface every conversation with "I'm a new immigrant and I'm lost." They can then feel sorry for you, talk about you in Hebrew with their friends, and give you advice in halting English. It is probably wrong, but they're trying.
No matter who tells you a process, there are steps missing. I found out that to use my dental coverage, I had to open a file; my lack of an open file explains why I couldn't make an appointment but the nice Russian lady who spoke a little English took the time to open a file for me and help me get an appointment for Monday morning. I'm hoping that my chipped tooth doesn't further crack until then, but I didn't feel like it was an emergency (for which I could have gotten a sooner evening appointment). The point is, no one mentioned having to do this (or if someone did, it was amidst the flurry of "first things" that were dumped on me on day 1 and in Hebrew). I work in steps so giving me all the parts in one big blob up front doesn't help.
Honestly, I don't know the cause and effect which might explain thigs. Are the drivers crazy because the roads are or are the roads seem crazy because the drivers are out of their minds? Does familiarity breed contempt, or is there contempt in the water already?
There is more to learn, and more to write, but that's enough for this morning. At some point I have to get to the library, find out why my updated citizenship card hasn't arrived, and find an activity to help my 8th graders learn about the value of studying a word's etymology.
