Hmmm. So... I didn't go.
I should be at the opening event of Venice of Wind and Fire right now, but as you can see - here I am at my computer, feeling a bit ashamed of myself.
When I woke up this morning, I was honestly planning on going.
A trip to Jerusalem is not really my cup of tea, but I figured that it was important that I be there for my dear beads at their first public appearance. Hey, it might turn out to be fun, I kept telling myself. I contemplated trying to catch a ride with someone, but then decided I'd just take the bus. (It just occurred to me that most of you probably don't know that I don't drive. Getting a driver's license is one of those things I've been procrastinating for a very long time... I've lived in the middle of the city for most of the past ten years, and I rarely need to go anywhere I can't walk to. Someday I'll get around to it, I'm sure.)
So, I get dressed up and take myself, my camera and some other stuff to the bus station. On the way there, I realize I haven't been on an intercity bus in ages... literally ages. Besides being one of those home-people who never go outside, I'm also one of those city-people who never step outside the city unless they absolutely have to. I mean, I'm delighted to get to travel around the world, but to go all the way to a neighboring city... blah.
When I arrive at the bus stop to Jerusalem, there's a bus standing there, and a crowd of people is trying to get on. There is no line, just a large, sweaty, rush-hour crowd, so I sort of try to edge my way in from one side. Soon enough, the bus is full, the doors close and some guy on a loudspeaker is saying there will be another bus leaving immediately. The crowd collectively groans and steps back. At this point, if I can get on the next bus, I am still in the realm of "fashionably late" to the event.
If you've ever spent time here in Israel, you probably know this already, but if you haven't, there are some things you should know about Israeli people (as a generalization. I don't like to generalize, but this case kind of calls for it). To try to put it in a positive way... Israelis tend to be very warm people. This (or something else, I don't know) somehow leads to absolutely no awareness of personal space. Beyond that, many, many Israelis are completely incapable of forming a line and standing on it, not to mention waiting for their turn. In situations like these, a "line" is an insane race to get there first - or at the very least, before the guy who's standing in front of you. It's not like this in other countries. It's just not.
So, the next bus arrives at the stop five minutes later, and in the meantime, the crowd keeps getting larger and larger. As soon as the doors open, a mad frenzy breaks out, with what seems like at least 500 people trying to get on the bus at once. It's getting late and I really need to be moving in the direction of Jerusalem at this point, so I try to get on too. I find myself encased in the crowd, with sweaty strangers pressing up against me from all sides. When I was younger, various situations led me to traveling around the country by bus a lot, so I've endured this kind of thing at least hundreds of times, accepting it as part of the way life is. This time, I find it all quite sickening. Maybe I should just forget it and go home, I wonder. To be honest, I'd rather spend the evening making beads anyway.
NO, says a voice inside me. You are strong enough to make it through a freaking bus ride. You made it this far, and you're not going home now.
I brace myself, using every drop of patience I have, and keep standing there in the middle of the crowd. To make things even more irritating, some people are actually talking on their cellphones in the midst of the inferno. I try to make myself as small as possible, in attempt to avoid intimate contact with five different people at once (hey, I have a boyfriend, goddammit). Nevertheless, three women who were standing behind me somehow end up in front of me, and a teenage girl is pressing her chest into my arm, trying to get past. I start fighting people off with my elbows. At some point, I can finally see the doors - those three women are getting on the bus. Then, the doors close. The bus is full. Gotta wait for the next one.
At that point, I just had to give up. I couldn't go through that again, especially with a good chance of not getting on the next bus either - besides, it was getting too late anyway; I'd never make it in time. I had to get away from the impatient crowd or I would have had a nervous breakdown. I sat down on a bench, feeling violated, wondering if I should take a taxi to Jerusalem. It would cost a small fortune, but I would gladly pay ten times as much to never have to go through the rush-hour bus experience ever again.
I decided that my desire to be at this event was not great enough to justify the expense. I got in a taxi, but not to Jerusalem - I just wanted to get back home as soon as possible. The driver was a talkative little old lady with flashy manicured fingernails. She tells me that she just saw a car that was triple-parked - not double, she emphasizes, triple - and there was a police officer standing right there. When she pointed the problem out to him, he just shrugged and said something like "I don't care - that's not my area".
"See? This is what we look like", says the old woman. In addition to the other things I mentioned, Israelis, as a generalization, like to complain. Maybe that's not so surprising.
"Yes." I sigh. "This is what we look like."
Sometimes it seems so obvious that no matter what happens, I just can't spend the rest of my life here.
Sarah Sarah Sarah. Breathe....
1, 2, 3..............I can relate to your anxiety.
Screw it, go make beads .....Forgetta Bout it!
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Feh - probably for the best you didn't go. Shopmonkeys have spent enough time sipping luke warm chardonnay in dilapidated "museums" (aka multi-use community centers and/or local artist galleries that generally are boarded up 6 months later) to know the drill.
Believe me, you didn't miss much. We have come to the conclusion that unless there's a promise of hot food (while standing up or not), it's not worth going.
Completely OT, but do you go direct to a kiln with your beads or do you batch anneal? We just got some really nice Japanese Cooling Bubbles that are the bees knees in cooling media, we can send you a sample if you like (for no other reason than we loves us our Sarah, with no commercial intents whatsoever, notwithstanding that we had a good month after you gave us a shout out in your blog last time. Nope, this is purely out of Sarah-love ^_^).
Loves and kisses,
shopmonkeys
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I go directly to kiln - but I never say no to free stuff, especially the purely-out-of-sarah-love kind.
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I have a solution for you Sarah, pack your bag and your torch and head to the airport, take the first plane to Australia don't look back, come and be an Aussie, we are heading into spring real soon so the weather will be great too.
Cheers Jane xx
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Hey, are you sure that you live in Israel and not Indonesia? I used to fight like that to get into the bus there hehehe even at checkout, people just jumping the queue.
I agree with Jane, move to Oz like me
Cheers,
Yunita
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Start on your application for your Aussie visa NOW! It takes a long time to get your visa, you're not okay for a spouse visa yet so try to find out what kind of visa you can get.
Most friends I know from when I lived in Aus had been waiting for their visa for at least a year, most of them a bit longer than a year, so get it started
Oh and I know the feeling, I hate the bus... The train is okay, but the bus...
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