Phones, Shoes, Shabbat

No trip to Israel would be complete without a bit of aggravation. Mine came earlier than expected - yesterday, when I attempted to re-connect my cell phone.

When we left Israel a year ago I opted to freeze my number by paying the nominal rate of 10 shekels per month. According the the contract I could re-activate the account at any time. Well, I got an email from the phone company a couple of months ago; some kind of issue with my credit card came up. I made several attempts to work this out on the website, but was unable to get into my account. No big deal, I thought, I could just as easily take care of this in person. HA! I should have known better.

It all started when I called customer service Wednesday morning. They may cut off your account, but you can still call customer service from the cell phone. I followed their instructions that if you didn't want to wait on hold you could leave a message for someone to call you back. I'm still waiting. But after having lunch with Batsheva on Wednesday, we walked around downtown and stumbled on a phone store that represents my carrier, Golan Telecom. I walked in and explained my situation, only to be told that if I couldn't get into the account on the website there was nothing they could do to help. They did offer to sell me a new SIM card, with a new number, which defeated the whole purpose of the 10 shekels per month for the privilege of keeping the number I've had for the past umpteen years. In that case they said I should call customer service. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Undaunted, I called customer service yesterday morning and actually got a live person. The problem was the credit card they had on my account doesn't match my actual card. I even tried a previous card, which is no longer active, thinking maybe when I opened the account I initially used the old card. Nothing worked. So I decided to bite the bullet and go for the new number.

Since we needed to go to a pharmacy yesterday, and the store where I got my service last year were both in the Mamila Mall, off we went. Unfortunately the Golan rep hadn't quite arrived yet - he was expected in a couple of hours, which in this country is merely a suggestion. Still undaunted, we walked back to the store where I had been the day before, only to be told that they were out of SIM cards and didn't know what time the new supply would be delivered. They suggested we try the shop at the Central Bus Station. So we hopped on the light rail to the CBS, went in and found by far the nicest Golan rep EVER. He walked me thru the various plans, I picked the one I wanted, he started to do the transaction ... and asked for my passport. Well, I didn't have my passport on me. I stopped carrying it with me years ago, when you no longer needed one to change money. I tried giving him my driver's license, but that wasn't good enough. It was either a passport or identity card or no go. I almost cried. The run-around, the frustration, and the onset of jet lag were getting to me.

There is a happy ending. This morning, after doing our shopping for Shabbat, we went back to the phone store in the CBS and got everything taken care of. I even have a number that can be dialed from the US (312-940-4491), just in case anyone out there can't handle the thought of not hearing our voices for the next 2 months. Just please remember that we are 8 hours ahead of you.

So what does this have to do with shoes? First of all, I'm not sure how many size 15 shoes anyone has ever seen. The photo below illustrates just how big they are, when compared with my size 8.

My friend Bevie, on behalf of her great-nephew, asked me to bring a pair of shoes for him. Even if he could find his size in Israel the shoes are frightfully expensive. I was happy to oblige. I was going to give Bevie the shoes when I see her on Monday (we take a class together). But it turned out that the boy's father was available to pick them up and he came by to get them this morning.

What does this have to do with phones? The connection is Shabbat, which is the completion of creation. The two tasks I had to accomplish - getting my phone to work and delivering these gargantuan shoes - are done. And with candle lighting in about 15 minutes, my week's work is complete. Hardly compares to creating the universe, but now I can rest.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem.

Chesed Shel Emet

930PM. Thankfully no jet lag (or maybe it just hasn't hit yet). Setting my watch to Israel time helped, as did the late flight (9PM) out of Chicago.

We got to Jerusalem at 1130PM last night. Our flight left London an hour late, but passport control was a breeze and our luggage was among the first bags on the carousel. We got a sherut (shared taxi) immediately, and in spite of a couple of construction delays and an accident that caused a gapers' block we got to Jerusalem in 40 minutes. This apartment is a big improvement over the one we had last year, which could easily fit into this one's kitchen with space left over. The owner very kindly left us some food - a couple of rolls, cheese, some fruit, and the mandatory tomato and cucumber. We were very thankful because we were hungry and none of the nearby stores or cafes were open. By the time we ate and got the basic necessities out of our suitcases it was after 1AM. I slept well till 8; Sid didn't.

We had a leisurely morning, just trying to get our bearings in this enormous apartment with plenty of storage and closet space, and the ultimate kosher kitchen with not two but three sinks. The owner came over to give us an orientation; I had to take notes.

I then called Batsheva who happened to be in a ceramics class (her one day a week off from her high stress job) near downtown with her friend Clara, so we met for lunch in a wonderful Yemenite restaurant. I had red kubeh soup which was amazing. I had to cut our time short because Dori was on her way to stay overnight with us on a 24 hour leave.

It sort of takes your breath away when you open the door and your almost 20 year old soldier/granddaughter walks in.This was the first time we saw her in uniform. The only thing missing was a weapon, and when she told me she doesn't take it when she leaves the base I was not happy. I prefer that she be armed when she travels around by public transportation, but the army doesn't allow it, and I haven't yet figured a way to overrule the army. But I'm working on it.

We went out for dinner at Roza's, one of the many eclectic restaurants on Emek Refaim, Jerusalem's restaurant row. It's such a pleasure to talk to her about what she does as a drill instructor, her soldiers, commanders, life in the army ... and her boyfriend. She has learned every bit of army slang and all the acronyms, speaks Hebrew beautifully, and her English now has a very slight intonation. I get the sense that she is very grounded, centered, balanced and has her priorities right. We are so proud of her. Not sure when we will see her next; it depends on when she can get time off because she gets a new class of recruits in a few days.

About the title of this post: Chesed shel emet is a genuine act of kindness done for its own sake, which can never be repaid. Readers of this blog may recall that last year I attended a funeral. The deceased was Clara's husband. Today at lunch Clara told me how touched she and her daughters were that I was there and how my words of condolence meant so much. A person does good in this world when a small act of kindness still comforts the mourners a year later.

Lilah tov (good night) from Jerusalem.