There are two experiences I could have chosen to write about today.
The supermarket and the bus.
Yes, that’s right. I refer to them as experiences. You will see why.
I was going to write about my supermarket experience, but since I’ve gotten so used to that insanity, I will need to wait for yet another experience there to inspire me all over again.
And since I have just gotten off what is probably the most eventful and interesting bus ride I will ever (EVER) have, I am happy to share it. You as the reader can experience it vicariously through me (trust me, you should be very happy you are experiencing it vicariously).
The main point of this post is to relay to you one very simple rule. Never (yes, absolutely never) take the mini bus out of the Old City in Jerusalem (if you ever decide to visit, which I highly reccomend you do). Actually, scratch that. Never take any bus in Israel if you can manage somehow else.
It starts off with waiting.
There is usually waiting involved. The 38 bus I have been waiting for finally comes and I prepare to get on. However, the bus driver decides to take a short break for about... I don't know... 30 minutes. The rest of the people at the bus stop and I wait patiently.
Well, almost all of us wait patiently.
You can always trust that there will be someone here to get things moving along.
Or well at least try to.
One of the men at the bus stop starts mumbling things to himself in Hebrew. He’s annoyed. So he decides to walk into the street and yell for the bus driver, who clearly is nowhere to be found. Finally the bus driver comes back from his getaway and takes another five minutes to open the door. Why?
There is usually waiting involved. The 38 bus I have been waiting for finally comes and I prepare to get on. However, the bus driver decides to take a short break for about... I don't know... 30 minutes. The rest of the people at the bus stop and I wait patiently.
Well, almost all of us wait patiently.
You can always trust that there will be someone here to get things moving along.
Or well at least try to.
One of the men at the bus stop starts mumbling things to himself in Hebrew. He’s annoyed. So he decides to walk into the street and yell for the bus driver, who clearly is nowhere to be found. Finally the bus driver comes back from his getaway and takes another five minutes to open the door. Why?
No reason.
There is clearly no more room on this bus. Whatsoever. Still, somehow, another three people manage to shove themselves on there.
The three other American girls on the bus are speaking among themselves, trying to understand how this is going to work. They clearly haven't been here for very long.
Oh, it will work. One way or another.
The three other American girls on the bus are speaking among themselves, trying to understand how this is going to work. They clearly haven't been here for very long.
Oh, it will work. One way or another.
Everyone on this bus is late for something somewhere (thanks to the bus driver) and you know it because everyone is bickering about how they unfortunately decided to take the bus from the Old City at the most inconvenient time.
The doors have finally shut, not allowing anymore crazies to get on this vehicle. We are finally leavening.
Or so we thought.
We don’t get far. Actually, we barely even budge. We barely even budge because someone in front of us has decided to park in the middle of the road. So now we have a car creating traffic, our bus driver yelling at some guy (because when in doubt in Israel, just yell at someone. Anybody, really. They will understand because they do it all the time👍🏻). The driver in front of us is yelling at our driver, for some reason. Literally, dude doesn't even step out oof his car. He sticks his head out the window and starts waving his hands in the air. The people on this bus with me are yelling. Not at anybody in particular- just yelling about being annoyed.
The parked car finally moves and we are finally on our way.
Just then one of the elderly woman decides she needs to sit. While we are driving on the unpaved road at 50 mph, this woman decides she wants to cross the span of the bus to get to a seat on the other side. A seat that is folded, mind you. Folded because there is no room to unfold it.
But that doesn’t matter now, does it.
So now we have ten people shuffling around trying to help this woman get to the other side. This easily could have been done before we started moving, but why make things easy? That wouldn’t be any fun.
At this point, my foot has been stepped on more times than I'd like to count.
We get to the first stop. Not one person has to get off here. Not one. On the contrary a couple of women decide to hop on.
Understand how things work in this country. If you have some reason to be frustrated, aggravated, annoyed, upset... at any given situation... just know that whoever/whatever you are annoyed, angry, etc about/at... is going to express those exact same emotions as you. Just only with more intensity.
So you would think the people who are already on this bus would be yelling at these people trying to squish themselves on. Well, you are right, then. They do yell at them. But those yells fall onto deaf ears. The women have already begun their raid of frustration at the people on the bus who won't move over for them (because they have no room to move over).
Does this matter that there is no room?
No.
Do three Israeli women overpower the 40-or-so people on this mini-bus?
You best believe.
If I thought there was no air to breath or no room to move on this bus before...
I could have surrendered the handlebar I was holding onto and have been fine. I wasn't flying anywhere now. There was nowhere to fly.
Someone steps on my toe, yet again.
These women jump onto this bus like it's nobody's business. Except it is, because all the other 40 of us have to make a joint effort to help them get on this thing. And the most interesting part is that they're screaming at the rest of us. Screaming at us to move over. Screaming at the bus driver for nearly closing the door on the foot. Screaming about how the baby carriage is taking up too much room.
The door finally closes (without harming anyone's foot), the carriage is folded and the woman who was screaming about it is now cooing playfully to the baby, and we are on our way yet again.
I'm laughing at this point.
I'm laughing because nobody thought about this. Nobody thought about the details of riding this bus. Nobody considered how it just might not make so much sense to all gather on here together. Everyone decided to squish on this thing and then complain about it together. We had a choice. Or well, I was one of the first people on the bus so I was hopping on anyway- but for those who came on when they saw there was no room. They got themselves into this. They created this. And they were going to go through with it no matter how much of a struggle it was going to be.
Finally my stop comes and I gratefully run off the bus.
So happy to finally arrive.
Or well- at least to arrive to the next bus station where I will wait who knows how long for the next bus.
Oh well, at least I've got some elbow room and the comfort of knowing that my toes won't suffer anymore.
Grateful for the small things here.
And I'm happy with just that.
Understand how things work in this country. If you have some reason to be frustrated, aggravated, annoyed, upset... at any given situation... just know that whoever/whatever you are annoyed, angry, etc about/at... is going to express those exact same emotions as you. Just only with more intensity.
So you would think the people who are already on this bus would be yelling at these people trying to squish themselves on. Well, you are right, then. They do yell at them. But those yells fall onto deaf ears. The women have already begun their raid of frustration at the people on the bus who won't move over for them (because they have no room to move over).
Does this matter that there is no room?
No.
Do three Israeli women overpower the 40-or-so people on this mini-bus?
You best believe.
If I thought there was no air to breath or no room to move on this bus before...
I could have surrendered the handlebar I was holding onto and have been fine. I wasn't flying anywhere now. There was nowhere to fly.
Someone steps on my toe, yet again.
These women jump onto this bus like it's nobody's business. Except it is, because all the other 40 of us have to make a joint effort to help them get on this thing. And the most interesting part is that they're screaming at the rest of us. Screaming at us to move over. Screaming at the bus driver for nearly closing the door on the foot. Screaming about how the baby carriage is taking up too much room.
The door finally closes (without harming anyone's foot), the carriage is folded and the woman who was screaming about it is now cooing playfully to the baby, and we are on our way yet again.
I'm laughing at this point.
I'm laughing because nobody thought about this. Nobody thought about the details of riding this bus. Nobody considered how it just might not make so much sense to all gather on here together. Everyone decided to squish on this thing and then complain about it together. We had a choice. Or well, I was one of the first people on the bus so I was hopping on anyway- but for those who came on when they saw there was no room. They got themselves into this. They created this. And they were going to go through with it no matter how much of a struggle it was going to be.
Finally my stop comes and I gratefully run off the bus.
So happy to finally arrive.
Or well- at least to arrive to the next bus station where I will wait who knows how long for the next bus.
Oh well, at least I've got some elbow room and the comfort of knowing that my toes won't suffer anymore.
Grateful for the small things here.
And I'm happy with just that.
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