What a gas!
I just discovered that my landlord has a sense of humor.
It started with my phone call to the evil spawn of the devil, the banchee Oshra, who works for what I have decided is one of the worst companies in Israel (and that’s saying a lot): the Dorgas gas company.
The reason I called? Let’s see if you can work it out:
Our current gas bill comes to a grand total of NIS 1,660.35 – which is a whopping NIS 1,590 more than our previous three gas bills COMBINED! The bill before the current bloated one came to NIS 17.05, the one before that to NIS 32.02 (no, there are no coins in Israel that amount to less than 5 agorot, so this is actually an impossible number to pay, but that’s a whole other story), and the one before that to NIS 21.22.
And no, we did not use gas for heating or for any purpose other than what we’ve used it for in the three previous billing periods (minimal stovetop cooking).
Now, I’m no mathematical genius, but for some reason I get the feeling that something’s rotten in the state of Dorgas – which, by the way, has already shut off our gas twice in the last few months for no reason that the company could explain. Well, actually, the meter-reading guy did give me what I suppose is their version of an explanation for the first gas cutoff: He rang the door of someone else’s apartment and they didn’t answer him, so he cut off our gas.
And you just know he’s gotta be telling the truth because who could possibly make up such a ridiculously irrelevant answer? I would have been happier (and not even particularly surprised) if he had said a street cat ate the meter.
Anyway, despite the gas company’s less-than-stellar record when it comes to minor details like providing gas, I began my call by speaking very nicely to the evil spawn of the devil (as I did not yet know her true status). The lovely and soft-spoken Oshra heavily implied that her company plucked a random number out of the air to put on my bill because the cabinet containing the gas meters was apparently locked. When I told her that I didn’t have the key and the company should speak to my landlord – to whom the gas bill is addressed, by the way! – she said, ‘Well if you won’t help me, then I won’t help you,’ and threatened to shut off my gas, which is apparently the standard practice when Oshra is in a bad mood.
(It turns out that actually the gas meter for our apartment, as opposed to the ones for most of the other ones in the building, is outside the building in a non-locked cabinet. But, not being ready to face another bout with Oshra, I have handed the entire matter over to my lawyer, who also doubles as my husband.)
Anyway, when I ran into my landlord in my building today – after having spoken to him earlier about the gas meter being locked away (or not, as the case may be) – he asked if the gas company was still giving me trouble. I told him about my hushed and civilized conversation with Oshra, and he surprised me by displaying the above-mentioned, heretofore hidden, sense of humor.
Totally straight-faced, he said: “What do you mean? No one shouts in this country!”
Funny man, my landlord. Who knew?
Crossposted to the 90th minute by Shoshana Kordova.
Nukes? What nukes?
Israeli and international media have been feasting this week on Prime Minister Ehud Olmert’s achievement of adding a whole new layer of meaning to the concept of nuclear ambiguity.
The policy has long meant that Israel will neither confirm nor deny having nuclear weapons – preferring to harvest the benefits of a deterrence wrought by the rest of the world’s decades-long knowledge of the country’s capabilities while avoiding the pitfalls of possible inspections, censure, sanctions or loss of financial aid. But the recent hullabaloo has, for some, narrowed the focus; the latest ambiguity under discussion is not about Israel’s status as a nuclear power but about what, if anything, Olmert intended to say about it.
In a prerecorded interview on German TV that was broadcast Monday, during his visit there, Olmert said that the United States, France, Britain and Russia had nuclear weapons, and were “civilized countries that do not threaten the foundations of the world.”
Then came the clincher that has set the media and political hounds growling with excitement: “Iran openly, explicitly and publicly threatens to wipe Israel off the map. Can you say that this is the same level, when they are aspiring to have nuclear weapons, as America, France, Israel, Russia?” …
I found it interesting to see how different media characterized the remarks in their articles on Olmert’s comment: Was it a slip or an admission? Did he announce that Israel has nuclear weapons or appear to imply it?
Some publications, like The New York Times, played it safe, sticking with words like “seem” and “appear.”
A NYT article published Tuesday was headlined, “In a Slip, Israel’s Leader Seems to Confirm Its Nuclear Arsenal,” and began by saying: “Israel’s prime minister, Ehud Olmert, appeared to acknowledge inadvertently during a TV interview shown Monday that Israel has nuclear weapons, an issue on which the Jewish state has sought to maintain ambiguity for decades.”
Possibly following Olmert’s lead, the Guardian threw caution to the wind in a second-day story published Tuesday on what it called the “nuclear gaffe,” in which it said flat-out that Olmert was under fire for having “accidentally acknowledged for the first time that Israel had nuclear weapons.” Not until the 10th paragraph does the story mention that Olmert’s spokeswoman denied that his comments “mean Israel possessed or wanted to acquire nuclear weapons.” …
The most striking set of articles I found came from Reuters, which may or may not have undergone a change of heart in its take on the story.
In a Monday article that appeared on the Washington Post Web site under the headline “Olmert admits Israel has nuclear weapons,” Reuters wrote: “Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert, lifting the veil over Israel’s policy of nuclear ambiguity, appeared in an interview broadcast on Monday to admit that the Jewish state had atomic weapons.”
As if there were not enough of it going around in this little nuclear contretemps, this sentence suffers from an ambiguity all its own: the word “appeared” can refer to Olmert’s having appeared on TV (as I read it at first) or as a qualifier that – were it not separated by an intervening reference to the broadcast – would read “appeared to admit.”
By Tuesday, though, Reuters had (paradoxically, perhaps) clarified its position by injecting greater uncertainty, writing: “Prime Minister Ehud Olmert triggered a domestic firestorm on Tuesday after publicly implying, in an apparent reversal of a decades-old secrecy policy, that Israel has the Middle East’s only nuclear arsenal.” Note the double hedge of “implying” and “apparent” (not “appearing,” this time).
And finally, the reward for best sense of humor goes to The Associated Press, for a piece about the response to Olmert’s comments that was slugged “Israel-Nuclear Fallout.” Kind of scary at first glance, but, hey, it made me laugh.
Crossposted to the 90th minute by Shoshana Kordova.
No Pilgrims here
Someone in America mentioned in an email on Wednesday that she was leaving work early for Thanksgiving, which led me to this brilliant flash of insight: “Oh, it must be Thanksgiving tomorrow!”
My level of awareness of American holidays has dropped precipitously since leaving the country. There are myriad cues I took for granted in the U.S. that are virtually non-existent here in Israel: the mail circulars advertising Thanksgiving sales, the cranberry sauce on display at the supermarket, the cardboard Pilgrims in the store windows – and of course, the day off from school or work and the word “Thanksgiving” that comes preprinted on the calendar.
I know there are some Thanksgiving dinners that take place here, like the one run by the Association of Americans and Canadians in Israel (AACI), and less institutional ones that individuals or families arrange on their own. I have never personally attended a Thanksgiving dinner in Israel, though – not because I am opposed to it, but just because I have never been invited and have never cared enough to either seek an invite or organize a Turkey Day meal myself.
Growing up as an Orthodox Jew in America, I always thought Thanksgiving was kind of cool because you could both eat really well and watch TV on the same day – unlike Shabbat and most Jewish holidays, when you can stuff yourself silly as long as you don’t turn on any electrical appliances, or Sundays, when you can watch TV all day long but the only thing to eat is leftover chulent. It was also one of the few extended family gatherings that wasn’t a bar mitzvah or a funeral.
Raindrops are falling on my head
It rained today!
That may not sound like headline news to you, but hey, this is the country where every centimeter that the Kinneret goes up is duly reported and where the lake is cheered on like the underdog in a football game valiantly fighting its opponent, the Red Line.
A few weeks ago, the Israeli precipitation equivalent of an Indian summer came to the north of the country and radio announcers – while, of course, reporting the important event – were quick to explain that although there were drops technically falling from the sky, it wasn’t actually the First Rain.
This time around, the meteorologist informed Israel Radio on Friday that the rain expected Sunday (hey, he even turned out to be right!) was “the true yoreh,” the Hebrew name for the early rain.
And it came at just the right time – the day after Jews around the world recited the annual prayer for rain on the holiday of Shmini Atzeret. For those whose climate does not correspond to Israel’s, the whole concept of praying for rain at this time is perpetually decontextualized, but it starts to resonate a lot more when you can see, hear and feel the raindrops falling on your head.
What’s more, the meteorologist even went as far out on a limb as to predict a “feeling of autumn.” That is a bit of a radical statement for this country, as those who grew up thinking that the year is divided into four distinct seasons (we even have backup in the form of that annoying song) may find themselves facing some serious cognitive dissonance issues after spending time in Israel. That’s because summer here usually lasts into October, with the possibility of a few slightly cooler days sprinkled in (at least in Jerusalem – hot and humid Tel Aviv is another story entirely), only to be followed by a heat wave to remind you that this country doesn’t know from autumn. Oh, and if you want to see leaves falling, you’d best pluck them off the tree yourself.
In Israel, rain heralds wintertime (forget all that stuff about April showers), so summer pretty much collides with winter, meaning that in the next few weeks people will be about equally likely to be strapping on their sandals as they are to be clomping around in their boots.
All in all, what I guess it comes down to is that moderation just doesn’t seem to flourish in the Israeli climate.
Crossposted to the 90th minute by Shoshana Kordova
If I were Rothschild
“Fiddler on the Roof” is about as culturally Jewish as culture can be, and one of its signature taglines is the title of the well-known song “If I were a rich man.” (Go ahead, sing it: All day long I’d biddy biddy bum…)
But for all that the Jewish connotations of the phrase would seem to make it quite suitable for use in Israel, Israelis actually use an altogether different expression to get across the same idea.
The Marker, an Israeli business newspaper that is part of the Haaretz Group, used the expression Monday as a front-page teaser for a story about billionaire Arcady Gaydamak’s acquisition of property on Rothschild Boulevard in Tel Aviv. The phrase? “If I were Rothschild.”
It somehow strikes me as fitting that Israelis use this phrase and not the Fiddler one. After all, the Rothschild family is renowned – here, at least – not only for their wealth, but also for their role in establishing the State of Israel.
As you can read here, the Balfour declaration, a 1917 statement of British support for “the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people,” was made in a letter from Arthur James Balfour, the British foreign secretary, to Lionel Walter Rothschild, 2nd Baron Rothschild and a leader of British Jewry.
And so it is that those who are willing to take the chance of reading too much into a possibly innocuous idiomatic difference can see that once again, the lines between Israeli Jewry and American Jewry are being drawn, in the linguistic arena at least. While American Jewry falls back on the Diaspora image of shtetl Jews to describe their financial aspirations, Israelis look toward – well, yes, a Diaspora Jew, but one who played a key role in creating the state that bred a few million New Jews who shove and shout and ask you how much money you make and carry M-16s and create technology start-ups by the dozen: in a word, un-Tevyes.
Crossposted to the 90th minute
Subscribe
Subscribe to Israelity via email:
Social Media
Categories
- A New Reality
- Art
- Blogging
- Business
- coexistence
- Crime
- design
- education
- Entertainment
- Environment
- Food
- Foto Friday
- General
- health
- History and Culture
- Holidays
- Immigrant Moments
- Israeliness
- Life
- Medical Breakthroughs
- Movies
- Music
- News
- Nostalgia Sunday
- Picture of the Week
- Politics
- Pop Culture
- Profiles
- Religion
- Science
- Social Justice
- Sports
- Technology
- Travel
- tv
- War
The Face of Israel Today
-
About Israelity
Free newsletter
Stories from ISRAEL21c.orgPopular Posts