The other day, my friend Nira and I were walking along HaYarkon when we heard yelling. (Really, this is so common place that I barely respond to it most of the time--in fact, if there wasn't yelling, I would feel a little strange.)
We look up, and see a desperate looking woman, with dyed-blonde hair and a diamond belly-button ring wearing a white tube-top, screaming down at us. It's the Russian Embassy, and this woman is sort of sitting on a ledge SCREAMING bloody murder and--she doesn't speak Hebrew or English. She had cleaning products in her hand, so we had to assume that she was cleaning the window and got locked out. Her face was terrified, and I just stood there for a few seconds until Nira snapped to, and I whipped out my cell to call the police. Nira, being a little sharper in an emergency than me, rang the embassy bell and got someone to come out--who promptly noticed the screaming woman and went inside to open the window that she was locked out of ... with a grin on his face.
The night before, I charmed the security guard at my local bank (we now have chats) by giving him some Challah, made fresh at the bakery down the street by a lovely Spanish-Jewish-Israeli religious couple. Now that we're pals, he lets me into the bank without searching my bag or checking my ID.. and he thinks I'm Australian, I tried to say "American" but it didn't quite pass over.
A short while later, we got on the bus--and lo and behold, a fight broke out between a gentleman who looked like he had survived not only the second but possibly the first world war, and an "arse" the generic term for "guido" in Hebrew, someone who wears too much fake bling, tight shirts and tight jeans, who was in his 20's. A SCREAMING match ensued (one can see why I'm desensitized), the whole bus sat riveted as hands were flying, angry words, yada yada yada. So finally, I tap the violinist behind me, and am like, "What's going on?" And he says, "Oh, the young man has his feet on the seat..." That's it? I asked. Yup. Another five minutes of fighting ensued, until the older man huffily got off the bus, cursing the ass as he walked out the door.
I love the smells of the trees here, the fresh fruit that's ripening, the way that when you smile at someone they look so pleasantly surprised. But these 'incidents' seem to happen every day, these bizarre, funny things that are so inexplicable that I almost can't go through my day without expecting them.
Today, I was late for "Polish Movie Night" and hopped in a cab. The driver began chatting with me, asking where I was from and what I was studying, then he told me that he had three kids ("how nice") and that he has a wife--and a girlfriend. I thought my Hebrew was bad... but no, I was right:
"Wife AND girlfriend I have... but wife doesn't know about girlfriend," he said proudly, waving two fingers around..
"And three children?" I said as though this were a normal conversation.
"It's wonderful." He sighed.
"Does your wife have a boyfriend too?" I asked casually.
"Maybe she does.. I don't know if she has a boyfriend. You know," He began to tell me, "I only have a girlfriend one week a year."
I paused, "Is that so?" (Why do I need to know his adultery patterns? I really wasn't sure.) "Yes--not ALL the time," (Why, I wanted to know, if you're already cheating on your wife would it be so ridiculous-seeming for you to do it for more than a week a year? )
"You know," He says in his thick voice, "It's really all about sex--" (At this point, I couldn't take it anymore. I just had to stop him from finishing that sentence, and I really didn't want him to start telling me about his tantric sex life with his mistress.)
"I'm religious," I said firmly.
"How religious?" He asked me, looking back (NOT watching the road, ahem!!) and looking at my pants. "You keep all the mitzvot?" He looked dubious.
"Yup--all of 'em," I said without enthusiasm.
Then, he turned the radio up... blissful silence!
