Mike and I have been back in Israel for about 2 weeks. Our timing was perfect. When we left, Canada was still a “green” country (COVID-wise) so we did not have to quarantine on arrival. (Halleluya!) That changed a week later, as Canada moved to “red” status. Here, where the virus is more commonly referred to as “Corona”, cases have dropped quite a bit from the peak in early fall. Restrictions still abound however, most noticeably in the closing of restaurants, bars, indoor malls, museums, universities etc., and in the wearing of masks in all public spaces, even outdoors. (more on this later)
We have settled back into our apartment (see last post) which we had not seen for 8 months. It is as lovely as we remembered it, but there are a few details I had forgotten. For example, we must have the cleanest streets in Tel Aviv. How do I know this? Well everyday, promptly at 7:00 in the morning, what sounds like a low-flying jet — but is really a street cleaning truck — makes the first of several swings by our building. First it sweeps the road, then it comes back and sweeps the road that branches off ours. Then it comes back and a guy hoses down the sidewalks on one side, and then it comes back one more time to hose down those on the other. Okay, okay — we are awake now.
Then the buses start to run, and soon after that the kids arrive at the school across the street, where the change of classes is occasionally marked with lively music! This is all an excellent arrangement if you have to get up early for work or classes — not that anyone is going anywhere, thanks to Corona.
Apart from this, we have been enjoying beautiful weather so far, mid-twenties and sunny, with a bit of rain now and then. It will get cooler and wetter as we go, but in checking the weather reports from home, we will not be complaining.
(Update: Last night and all today there was a rainstorm of biblical proportions — Noah would have been impressed.)
I mentioned the mandatory mask policy. Everything I had read before coming here described rigorous enforcement and the ever present threat of fines, along with arbitrary and occasionally harsh policing— and it is true that almost everyone has a mask. How they are worn is another matter entirely.
Outside, we have observed the demi- mask (below the nose), the chin mask (or “chin diaper” as Ben and his friends call it), the neck mask, the ear mask, the wrist mask, the arm mask and — if you can somehow look as though you are out for exercise — no mask at all. Running shoes and spandex — that’s the ticket. Inside, and on the buses, a more conventional approach prevails — most of the time.
With so many things closed, what do we do all day? So far this has not really been a problem. Israeli bureaucracy is a fool-proof way to use up time. For example, a simple errand to add me to Mike’s Israeli bank account, required making an appointment on-line which, on arrival at the bank, allowed him to insert his card into a machine and get a chit with a number. This allowed us to enter and sit in a small area that reminded me of an old government office — soviet style.
After 10-15 minutes waiting for our number to flash up on TV screen, we explained our mission to a very pleasant and well-meaning banker, who went on to print a myriad of forms, and to wrestle with a completely dysfunctional computer system. After two hours she essentially gave up, sent us home and said she would finish up the next day and call us. (She then advised us never to come to the bank on the first day of the business week. The computers just can’t handle it.)
And that was only half of the story. The next half required a 45 minute journey, two weeks later, to a different branch (with actual tellers) to pick up and validate our new credit cards. After going through the machine, number chit, and waiting room routine again, we got the cards — success! Or not. To validate them and acquire a Pin number, we needed another two hours with two different helpful bankers, and a new set of computer and call centre problems. Truthfully, it made me reflect fondly on the Canadian banking system.
So now, equipped with a joint bank account and new credit cards, we can move on to trying to figure out why my bus pass just lost 46 shekels in the process of “upgrading” me to Senior Citizen status! The fun never ends.