From time to time I have had a guest blogger from Israel. I especially enjoy these posts as they show a part of life we do not always encounter. Believe it or not Israel is not the place of homicide bombers and strife that the world media would have us believe. Yes, in "the land" there lives ordinary people going through the same things you and I do.
The post below is a contemplation on fifteen years of riding Jerusalem's buses. Sit down take a seat and enjoy what our guest blogger writes.
As I rode the bus today, I thought about the new year and time in general. I was thinking how things change, and yet, it seems to me that our walk is simply to put one foot in front of the other and to ‘walk’…while we ‘stand’.
So (since I was on the bus) I began thinking about the changes that have taken place on the buses in the 15 years that we have been here, and thought that you might enjoy hearing some of it.
One of the things that impressed me so much about the buses when we first arrived was how people poured in through the back doors as well as the front. ‘Orderly’, it was NOT! Baby carriages and wheel chairs now ONLY come in through the back doors, however other passengers are no longer allowed on that way anymore.
It used to amaze me how someone in the back would pass money up to the driver. The first time a stranger on the bus handed me a 100 shekel note, I was perplexed until I understood that I was to ‘pass it forward’ to the driver. Now, you must understand that the hands through which this large amount of money passes through hands tha are not particularly polite, or affluent hands. Some hands are attached to the surly, or needy, some were young, some were down right rough; however the money kept passing along. Soon someone tapped me from the opposite direction and here came the ticket, and a fist full of change on it’s return trip to the back of the bus. ‘How in the world will it find its way to the proper passenger!’ I thought. No need to worry,…It did. Everyone in the bus became a ‘faithful courier’ and the transaction was a success. I didn’t witness this once, but time and time again.
Another thing that caught my attention was the mothers and babies. Often a mother with a baby, perhaps several other children, and many packages would get on the bus and attempt to settle herself before paying the driver. The baby was handed to other passengers, total strangers (I know, because I held my share), and the mom would head toward the front to settle the business. The babies and children would smile contentedly, as if we were all family. Impressive!
There were ‘bus-birthdays’, graduations, army milestones and other joyous occasions that were shared with the entire bus by way of passing around cookies or other goodies (‘halavi or parve?’ passengers would ask – ‘is it dairy or non dairy’…in connection with the kosher laws)…nuts or a salty packaged snack were the most popular. ‘Mazel tov! Brachot! (Congratulations! Blessings!) Is it your 18th? You are in the army now? You are going to get married?’ These were total strangers, but now really…tied together one with another by a common bond of bus jostling and a common history of struggle. Such special moments!
Then there were ‘the steps’. By that I mean children, perhaps 5 or 6, obviously from the same family, all about 1 year apart. Once I saw TEN together, and I think that the oldest one wasn’t much more then ten! The oldest is the boss and each ‘step down’ is in charge of the one below it…unless there is a hyperactive sibling. Then several more level headed youngsters take control of that one. It is amazing for me to watch … these little mother hens, so serious about their charges…so careful to do as they have been taught. It is very impressive. One day I listened carefully. It seemed to me that the mother of the family was in labor and about to give birth, so the responsible little ‘brood’ were traveling to a relative.
I have seen lost down syndrome people gently calmed and delivered to their homes when they missed their bus stop. I have received a free bottle of soda pop from a bus driver who bought a case of cold ones to pass around the bus on a particularly sweltering day.
And I have seen deeply moving and dramatic scenes during the long, heart wrenching intifada.
Much has changed over the past 15 years. The buses are air conditioned, so I don’t think that there will be any more free drinks on a hot day. The bloody intifada seems to have sobered everyone…or was it the last war, or the one before or the political situation, or the economy, or just the tremendous pressure life in Jerusalem.
None the less, the poignant moments continue, if one watches for them, which I try to do.
AND…we are still entertained by the enigma of ‘route change day’ (designed to keep the drivers on their toes, alert) when the driver gets a new route…and we…the passengers…must tell him the bus route…directing him (NOT without argument! – ‘Go left here.’ From another ‘NO! What are you TALKING about! He doesn’t go left until the NEXT block!’) This is SO highly entertaining that I will leave it to be filled in by your imagination! Wish you were here! May our year conform completely with His will for each of us!
What a vivid picture of ordinary life in Israel today. The human story of life as a passenger on the buses not only gives a contemporary taste of what it means to live in the modern state but it also brought to my mind the devastation wrought by suicide bommbers on those buses through the years. Thanks for your insights and humour.
Posted by: Gerard O'Shea | January 03, 2010 at 07:05 PM