Dateline Jerusalem – This has been my week of frustration, reminding me of my first week after moving to Israel 6½ years go. Why am I still adjusting to the various bureaucratic red tape and idiosyncrasies of life here? I should be a pro by now. It is not because I speak no Hebrew because I do not go anywhere without taking an Israeli friend to translate for me in case the person I am dealing with speaks no English. Even if the person speaks English, often he or she does not understand what I am saying. My friends step in. Of course, I have dealt with bureaucracy in the States, and I still do. The problem in America seems to be because of unhappy, underpaid employees or civil service employees whose jobs are secure no matter what they don't feel like doing. Here, for the most part, government and private employees are cooperative. No one seems to know what the other is doing.

Last night, for example, I was on my computer. Suddenly, I was disconnected. Since it is not unusual, I am an expert at getting back on line. After several unsuccessful attempts, however, I spent four hours with my cable company and internet provider. I called my cable company, waited 45 minutes to get a live person, only to be informed that it wasn't their fault. I called my internet provider, and again after a long wait to get a live person, I found out that the internet provider had cancelled my account. The employee I did not know why. I finally found out this morning that it was because of a dispute between the cable and internet companies having to do with “bundling of services” with the cable company not paying the internet provider. Wthout warning, certain customers were disconnected. Lucky me.

It turned out for the best, though, since I had to set up a new account and it is $18/month less than before. The provider tried to do a three-way conversation with the cable company since the cable company and internet provider still had to coordinate with each other. I heard a long beep, and the call disconnected. Luckily the internet guy had my cell phone number and called me back. But the cable girl said she was unfamiliar with the internet company's router box and hung up on us. The internet guy told me someone would call me in a couple of hours. No one did. Finally this morning, another internet provider employee fixed my computer in no time, doing something entirely different from the guy who spent hours last night trying to get it to work.

I Can’t Follow the Script

Perhaps I would not have been so frustrated had I not had problems with my bank earlier that morning. It seems that in Israel there is no coordination between bank branches of the same bank. If I want to make a transaction at a different branch other than where I opened my account, the bank is unable to give me information about my account. I cannot get something even as simple as my bank balance. All the branches here claim that they cannot see any information about my account on their computer screens. Yet they have no problem charging me for every deposit I make into my account. And everything a teller does is charged a commission fee. When I was unable to handle the matter at the other branch because the banker said she could not do what I asked (strange because I have been making this transaction at that branch for years), I had to travel to my main branch. Luckily I did not have to go far, but it was inconvenient and time-consuming. At first the banker said she could not handle the transaction. However, suddenly she did. Further, the two bankers gave me conflicting answers.

I had been told by friends that since I am a senior citizen, I am entitled to a discount for the payment of city property taxes. Usually this is paid by property owners. In Israel tenants pay, not the landlords. After a lengthy wait for service, my number was called. The clerk said I needed something from the National Insurance Institute showing that I am eligible for the senior discount. To look at me, one would know I am a senior. I also have an ID card indicating my age. The clerk said I should bring the paperwork back, and if I return before his shift was over, I would not have to take a number and wait in line again. I was off for a brisk walk to the local national insurance office. No wonder there was not a long line trying to get in. On the door was a notice that the employees were on strike! Again, a reminder of my first days in Israel when the post office went on strike so I could not get a health insurance voucher and the Ministry of Interior went on strike so I could not get important documents.

I should not complain. For several months I tried contacting the American Consulate during their specified telephone hours regarding questions I had about my Social Security in the States. I could not even get through to make an appointment with them. I finally sent an email of complaint. The next day I got a phone call from a Consulate employee who needed certain info I did not have with me. He told me he would call me back, and gave me strict instructions that I was not to call him back with the information. That was almost two months ago. I am not too worried since I have been unable to find the necessary information. He must have mental telepathy to know not to call me back yet, or perhaps it is just his work ethic.

L'hitraot. Shachar