Segregation in 2009

I was shocked when I found out some buses running through Jerusalem neighborhoods are segregated. Men sit in front and women in the back. According to Jewish Law, a man is not allowed to touch any other woman except his wife. Still, I think that segregating buses is taking things just a wee bit too far. I knew the ultra-orthodox ran segregated bus lines in ultra- orthodox cities like Bnei Brak, but I didn't think this was the case in Jerusalem. Late one night last year, I received a very rude introduction to the way the ultra- orthodox had taken over a public bus line.

I finished work at around 11P.M. and went to catch the first of two buses home. I worked in a fairly religious neighborhood, and never thought I would encounter such rudeness and close-mindedness from people who are supposedly righteous. As I got on the bus, it was already full and people were literally pushing me onto the bus in their rush to get on as well. Because I know that many bus drivers here drive like they are racing the Grand Prix , I quickly searched for a seat at the front of the bus, where the seats behind the driver are reserved for the elderly and disabled. Most of the front section of the bus was taken up by religious men. I needed to sit down fast because the driver had already started on his race toward town. I asked one man to please get up for me. I didn't tell him I was disabled. If he couldn't tell I was having trouble standing then he was blind as a bat! The man ignored me. I asked the man next to him to please get up for me. He ignored me as well. Getting really irritated at this point, I thought I'd give it one more shot and I asked another man to get up so I could sit. The man turned around to the guy behind him and asked if HE could get up for me instead! That man also refused. I was so shocked at their behavior that I just stood there open-mouthed until I nearly fell on one of the men when the bus hit a pot hole. At that point, I had had it. I started yelling in English "you all call yourselves religious?!" This is bullshit!" I picked up my wallet from the floor and managed to make my way toward the middle of the bus where I found a seat and sat down. I assumed the people who were staring at me understood what I had said. Others however were asking each other in Hebrew what I had just said.

Still fairly upset, I insulted the men on the bus even further. It was a hot summer night and the bus was packed. The ultra-orthodox men wear their long black coats and hats even in sweltering heat, so they tend to smell. After I sat down I loudly said "And you all smell like you could use a good shower!" The man in front of me reeked so bad that I had to cover my nose and mouth for much of the ride into town. At one point he turned around to me after sniffing his armpits and asked me if he smelled!! I said "yes you do."

Body odor aside, I was very very disturbed by the mens' behavior.

The next day, one of my co-workers explained to me that the bus lines running through religious Jerusalem neighborhoods were segregated, which is why none of the men got up for me. I never saw a sign that said the buses were segregated. Were we living in the '50s here?! Apparently the segregation is a known thing. Still shocked, I asked my manager, himself a very religious Jew, if he would have gotten up for me had he been on the bus. He thought about it and said "probably not" Because I didn't want to lose my job, I didn't say anything, but my facial expression said it all.

Thankfully some people have the guts to put these close-minded people in their place. One day I was riding the bus into town. An ultra-orthodox man boarded the bus and paid the driver, but did not sit down. When the bus driver asked him why he was still standing by the ticket machine, the man said to the driver "there are women on this bus." The driver looked at him and said "What?!" The man repeated himself, at which point the driver said "get off my bus!" I almost started clapping.

Segregation on public buses in now in the spotlight and I for one am very happy. Why do women have to be treated like second class citizens, forced to sit in the back? The issue of segregation was taken to Israel's High Court of Justice in 2007. As Naomi Chazan wrote in this week's Jerusalem Post's Up Front Magazine, the Transportation Ministry has until Dec 27th of this year to decide how it will handle the issue of segregation. I really hope they make segregation illegal. I understand the sensitivities of the ultra-orthodox, but I think they are taking things too far by making women, even their own wives and daughters, sit at the back of the bus.

9/11 Memorial - Covering the dedication ceremony in Jerusalem

This past Wednesday, my article on one of the first major international 9/11 memorials was published in the Jewish Press. This memorial is the only one outside of NY to recognize each name of every 9/11 victim. I read about the upcoming memorial dedication on a list I'm subscribed to and decided that I wanted to cover it for a paper. The Jewish Press took the story but said they couldn't pay me for it. I pitched the story to a few other papers to see if I could get paid for writing the story. When no other paper got back to me, I decided to go with the Press even though I wasn't getting paid. I had never written for them before and I figured writing a good, important story would be a foot in the door.

Covering the dedication ceremony was no easy feat for someone with Cerebral Palsy. As a matter of fact, journalism probably isn't the best profession for someone with Cerebral Palsy, but I love the rush covering a story brings, so I deal with it, but my g-d, covering this ceremony was much harder than I thought it was gonna be. I had everything nice and planned out well before the ceremony. My husband was going to come with me to the ceremony so he could help me hold the numerous things I was carrying while I walked around and interviewed people. I also needed him to help me maneuver the memorial site which sits in a fairly undeveloped park in the hills of Jerusalem.

I hadn't been feeling well for a few days before the ceremony and I was hoping I would be OK the day I had to cover the story. Wrong! I woke up sick to my stomach and my husband was still coughing and sneezing up a storm. There was no way he could go with me to the memorial. It's OK. I can handle this on my own. I headed out the door hoping my stomach would behave itself.

It was an abnormally warm November day in Jerusalem which didn't help my nausea. As I and many others waited in the heat for the transportation to the memorial to fill up so we could finally leave, I made use of my time by asking Americans why they felt they had to be at the memorial. After 30 minutes or so, all the vans filled up and we were finally on our way. I was sitting in the media van with other journalists from various agencies. As we made the bumpy ride through the hills, I read the press release, went over my questions and listened to what the others in the van were talking about. I'm riding in the media van. How cool!! I hope I don't make a fool of myself by falling when we get there, or worse, by throwing up, because the bumpy ride really isn't doing my stomach any favors.

Upon arrival, we made our way toward the memorial site walking on a dirt road strewn with pebbles. I prayed I wouldn't fall. I struggled to find a comfortable position for my bulging bag while I walked. As we entered the site, baseball caps from the Jewish National Fund were handed out. I stifled a groan. I already had a head covering on. Great. One more thing to hold. Because I didn't want to be rude, I took the cap and held it in my already full hands.

We weren't able to be seated right away, so I walked around scoping out the people and the area. As I passed a few men in suits, I slipped on some pebbles. One of the men caught my hand. I was slightly embarrassed but thanked the man and moved on. Later I learned that the man was the CEO of the Jewish National Fund. I was mortified because I was interviewing him after the ceremony and he just saved me from falling on my ass!

By the time I found a seat, the only ones available that were easy for me to get to were directly under the sun, which was another strike against my churning stomach. I took off my head covering and stuffed my hair under the too big baseball cap, figuring the cap would provide more protection from the sun. I began to organize myself by taking out my notebook, tape recorder and camera, when I noticed that many people held small devices with earphones. Because the speeches alternated between Hebrew and English, a running translation device was handed out. I looked around to see where I could get one. They were being given out at the top of the stairs. I was in the middle. Oh crap. Thankfully, a woman from the PR company who organized the media for the memorial, read my mind and offered to get me one.

I felt like a juggler throughout the ceremony. I struggled to keep my tape recorder and the translation device on my lap as I scribbled notes while taking the headphones from the translation device on and off my ears as I needed. Because there was a running translation going, I couldn't just turn the device on and off. I also took pictures and video throughout the ceremony. Occasionally either the tape recorder or translation device crashed to the stone floor. As I picked them up and repositioned myself, I muttered a few four letter words which I hoped none of the 400 people at the ceremony heard. Several times I thought to myself who am I kidding? journalism isn't for me. I cant do this, I feel like sh** and this story is going to be a disaster. But I kept going. I hadn't eaten anything all day because of my nausea but suddenly I felt like I HAD to eat something or I'd throw up. Luckily my husband threw a bag of nuts and cranberries into my bag before I left. I felt weird eating at such a solemn occasion. This wasn't the movie theater. I looked around to make sure no one was watching me as I quickly munched on some food.

The ceremony ended with the playing of both the American and Israeli national anthems. During the Star Spangled Banner, I saw several people singing along with their hand held over their hearts. Pick the Americans. I didn't put my hand over my heart but I did sing along to the Star Spangled Banner. I felt that was the appropriate thing to do as an American. I also hummed along to Hatikva. Even though I have been living in Israel almost three years, I still don't know all the words to the Israeli national anthem the way I do the Star Spangled Banner. As an Israeli, I felt immensely proud that Israel made such a beautiful, moving memorial for an attack that happened in America.

With the ceremony over, I wanted to go down the stairs to get pictures of the sculpture and to interview people. By now, after constantly taking the translation headphones on and off while wearing a baseball cap that was too big, I had no clue what my hair looked like, although I had a feeling I looked a little disheveled, but I was too hot and sick to care. I just wanted to finish what I was doing and get the hell out of there. As I made my way down the stairs, an old woman was climbing up the stairs on the same side that I was going down. I needed the railing for balance, but so did the old woman. Out of respect I figured I'd slowly move to the other side of the staircase so she could make her way up. Of course I lost my balance as I moved across and almost went tumbling down the stairs, but I caught myself and waited until the older woman made her way to the top until I reclaimed the railing and finished making my way down the stairs.

After taking my pictures, (one of which was printed with my article), I went to interview the mother of an Israeli 9/11 victim. As I pushed REC on my tape recorder I saw that the tape needed to be turned over. I vowed to myself to buy a digital recorder already. As I fumbled with my recorder, the mother said "come, let me help you." That made me smile. What a typical Jewish mother. After fixing the recorder, she told me her daughter's story in Hebrew. Thankfully I understood everything she said to me. As she was telling me the horrible story of her daughter's death, I had a hard time keeping my emotions out of it. I felt like hugging her afterwards. After interviewing the mother, I interviewed the CEO of the JNF, who had caught my hand when I slipped earlier. Maybe he didn't recognize me with the baseball cap on, but I was glad he didn't mention my slipping.

I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I got home that night. I was a bit bummed because I felt my reporting suffered since I felt so sick, but I actually wrote a pretty good article which was very well received. I'm glad I didn't give up even though covering the story was very,very difficult for me.

Here is the link to my article & photo in the Jewish Press

http://www.jewishpress.com/pageroute.do/41574

Here is the link to some video I took of the ceremony

http://vimeo.com/7644452

Misplaced intentions

This Friday's Jerusalem Post magazine cover story was about the tourism patrol in Jerusalem's Old City. They are there to protect tourists from pick pocketers etc. I wonder where the patrol was when my cell phone was stolen from my coat pocket while praying at the Western Wall in March?? Having a patrol to protect tourists is a good thing, but I was too disgusted to finish the article. Protect the tourists and have security at malls, supermarkets and other public places, but still the citizens on public transportation, one of the main targets of suicide bombers during the Second Intifada, have to fend for themselves.

As far as I know, there is still no security on public buses and it's very unsettling. With mass construction for the Light Rail in downtown Jerusalem still underway, buses have been rerouted and many buses now are forced to go in and out of town via Jaffa road, creating an endless line of buses and a mass of people waiting in the sweltering heat for their bus. In addition to being very uncomfortable with people pushing and shoving to see if their bus is in the long line of buses on Jaffa Road, I also feel that environment is ripe for an attack, especially with no one watching the hordes of people with packages and bags pushing their way onto a bus.

I don't know why, but I usually don't think twice about getting on a bus, however this weekend's story about the tourism patrol made me think about it again. It also made me recall a very frightening situation about a month ago. As the fairly full bus I was on made its way through the center of town, a woman wearing a thick long-sleeved shirt and a winter jacket boarded the bus. I thought it very suspicious that a woman would be wearing winter clothing in suffocating heat. No one else even looked at her twice! I was very nervous and couldn't wait to get off the bus. Unfortunately, traffic slowed to a crawl. That's when I noticed the plaque on a building wall memorializing the victims of a bus bombing in that spot a few years ago. The plaque came into view just where the suspicious looking woman on the bus was standing. Is that a sign or what? I thought to myself. In addition to the suspicious looking woman, an arab woman wearing a really nice head scarf, was sitting at the front of the bus. Maybe the arab likes to wear her finest head gear on her last ride, I thought. My husband always tells me I have a very twisted sense of humor.

Israel protects its civilians in public places, but not having security in the one place that needs it most, pokes a big hole through their effort to protects us.

Backwards thinking

Israelis love to make life difficult. No matter how long I live here I will never understand why. Two instances occurred at the most inopportune time, the eve of a holiday which was the same day my husband and myself were rushing to finish cooking food for his catering business. Being woken up the night before by the sound of my husband cooking at 4:3o a.m, which is also the time the Muslim call to prayer is sounded, didn't put me in the happiest of moods the next morning. Unfortunately their prayers echo off the Jerusalem hills and that's the last thing I want to hear before the break of dawn.

After walking Doggie in the morning, I realize I had to take money out from the bank. After getting my card from home, I walked to the bank. When I get to the ATM, all I could do was groan and roll my eyes. I had my U.S. Visa on me and I forgot that our bank, The International Bank of Israel, doesn't take Visa. How can an INTERNATIONAL bank not accept Visa?! After a few choice words to the machine, I decided to go to the other bank two blocks away that does accept Visa. All I wanted was money so I could get some organic eggs so my husband could finish cooking and I had to do this whole run around! The other thing that is so frustrating about banks and government offices is that they are only open like 5 hours a day, beginning at 8 a.m., so it's common to see people, myself included, making a mad dash for the bank before they close 1 p.m. or earlier. G-d forbid they should be open 9-5 like a normal country!

I called my husband to let him know I couldn't take money out and he said if I'm already going to the other bank, I should go to the supermarket since we needed to top up on a few things. Great. I was just there the day before. I NEVER want to go to the supermarket on the eve of a holiday. Not only is it a zoo inside, but there's hardly any cell phone reception in the supermarket, so if you're like me without a list, you'd better hope you have a good memory because chances are you won't get reception in the supermarket, the one place people actually need their phones!! Added to that, I didn't have the keychain on me which would release a shopping cart from its lock, nor did I have any change I could have used in its place. Getting a shopping cart shouldn't have to be so hard! Luckily the guard outside the supermarket knew me and gave me a cart.

Once in the supermarket, I got the first few things I repeated to myself numerous times so I wouldn't forget, but there were a few things I wanted to ask my husband about so I tried calling him. No luck. Really not happy that I had no reception and that I had to deal with the zoo that was the supermarket, I tried every now and then in certain spots to get reception. I was able to get like 2 minutes of a conversation in before getting cut off again. Instead of letting me speak, my husband used that precious time to vent about how his boss still hadn't payed him. Fellow shoppers saw my frustration and told me there was good reception near the eggs. It made me laugh that people knew the "spots" in the supermarket. Sure enough there was a small group of people by the eggs chatting away on their phones. Some were struggling with the reception. I felt like I was in the cell phone commercial where the guy says "can you hear me now?"

Finally I got all our groceries, and had them delivered. On my way out of the supermarket with milk, butter, and those prized eggs I went through the madness to get, the other security guard says to me "where is your cart. Why isn't it with the others?" After the craziness inside and tired arms from lifting 24 liters of water, I didn't care that my cart wasn't in its place. I turned around and in an exasperated tone replied "what?!?" I think the guard knew better than to mess with me at that point. "Never mind," he said. "Good!" I said. I wished him a happy holiday and carefully balancing the eggs, milk and butter in one hand and Doggie in the other, I walked home marveling at the reason such simple things like taking money out of the bank and using my cell phone in the supermarket need to be so difficult.

Suspicious objects

Yesterday was a cold, rainy day and I wanted to get Doggie's morning walk over with quickly. As we entered the park, I noticed two big, dark, full backpacks underneath the slides in the playground. I thought it was a bit strange, but I turned up my music and continued walking. Hang on a minute, I thought to myself. This is Jerusalem. Full backpacks in the playground and there isn't anyone but me here on this miserable day? Something's not right. I called my husband and not wanting to take a chance, we decided he should call the cops and report the bags as a suspicious object. When this happens, the bomb squad comes out and a cute robot blows up the object.

After ending the phone call with my husband, I dropped my phone and the battery fell out. As I'm picking up the pieces, I was stopped by the doggie police and was reprimanded because Doggie wasn't on a leash. Greaaat! I'm cold and wet and there are bags at the other end of the park that may blow up and today's the first time in 2 freaking years I have to get stopped by one of these guys, even though I'm the ONLY PERSON in the park! After resolving the dog issue and avoiding a hefty fine by playing dumb, I reassemble my phone in time to get a panicky call from my husband as to why I didn't answer my phone. Oops! "The bomb squad's on their way so stay in the park," said my husband. At this point I'm thinking I'm gonna catch a cold but hey what's a few more minutes?? As I'm rounding my 3rd lap in the park, I see two teenage boys head towards the bags. It turns out the bags belonged to them! I told them off for leaving their bags unattended and told them I called the police. They apologized, picked up their bags and started walking away, when I noticed one of them forgot their umbrella. HEY!! I called after them. "You forgot your umbrella. Come on already guys!!" =) My husband cancelled the bomb squad and thankfully that ended without incident, but I felt a little foolish for having called the cops. However, after thinking about it I realized that I did the right thing, because you just never know.

My reaction to yesterday's suspicious object was very different from one of the first few times I was around when a suspicious object was found or blown up. A few months after our wedding, we were walking home from the supermarket and as we rounded the corner to our apartment, we see police cars and officers blocking off the area. Once I realized what was going on, I started to cry. The whole thing just hit a little too close to home...literally! There I was holding a pack of 40 rolls of toilet paper and blubbering to my husband that there was no way in hell he was taking a bus to work that day. I got a few glances from police officers but I didn't care.

Unfortunately, suspicious object call ins are very common here. Thankfully they often turn out to be nothing but a forgotten bag or other personal item.

Funny night at the Jerusalem Theater

After an insane week, my husband and myself were very much looking forward to seeing cellist Yo-Yo Ma in concert at the Jerusalem Theater. Luckily we scored tickets on a cancellation. My husband was excited we got so lucky and got decent seats. The night arrives and we get dressed up to go out. This was my first time doing anything really cultural in Israel so I was curious to see how it was going to go.

We get to our seats in the second section. Not bad at all I thought. My husband points out the "who's who" in our section, among them, Bank of Israel head Stanley Fischer and former Israeli ambassador to the UN. Look at us sitting with the big wigs I thought to myself=) A man I instantly recognized, left-wing politician Pepe Allalu comes up to us and says we are in his seats. Upon looking at the tickets we realize that we had the same seat and row number as the Allalu's however, our real seats were a bit further up. As we excuse ourselves and start climbing upwards, I thought to myself how high are our seats exactly?! We continue for a bit and an older man smiles at me and says refuah shlemah (that I should have a full recovery) I smiled and thanked him, biting back the impulse to say "my walk is a permanent condition buddy but thanks"=) Only in Israel will someone say something like that to me. I think it's very sweet. It's happened a few times already. It always makes me laugh though.

Now back to the concert. We finally reach our seats...in the last row of the theater=) My husband and myself look at each other and all we can do is laugh. Not only are we in the last row of the theater but everyone in the last two rows had to sit forward in their seats to properly see what was going on down below, as my husband was telling our friend on the phone, "it's like we're all leaning forward on the toilet"!! Gotta love my husband sometimes=) Not only did we have to lean forward for most of the 3 hour concert, but our backs were killing us because of the way we were sitting. "200 shekel each ($50) and look how we're sitting," said my husband. I couldn't stop laughing. Only us would this happen to.

Even though we were up in the nosebleeds-which actually made me really miss my hockey game days up in the nosebleeds (where the real fans sit)!- the concert was beautiful and well worth it. Yo-Yo Ma is a phenomenal cellist. At one point the Jerusalem Orchestra played a beautiful rendition of Hatikvah for which everyone stood. Our night at the Jerusalem Theater is definitely one I will remember for quite awhile.