Sometimes you hear a story that just makes you want to cry.

A woman who lives not far from us has a hard life. She’s in her 30s, single, childless, and with severe health problems (physical and emotional) that prevent her from holding down a job. She lives on her welfare benefits.

She’s nervous, and although she hasn’t got much money, she calls taxis to get around — always from the Ramot Alon taxi company. The drivers got to know her over time, and decided together to give her a flat-rate price of 15 NIS anywhere in the city (typical in-city fares range from 15-40 NIS).

Last month, this woman went to get a haircut. As she left, she asked the receptionist to call her a cab. The woman responded, “Why order a cab and pay the extra fee, just catch one outside?” She did, and ended up unawares in an unregistered (=illegal) taxi. When she arrived and opened her purse to pay, the driver snatched the purse, pushed her out the door, and took off. She started screaming; a Ramot Alon cab was passing by, heard her, went after the first cab, caught him, and called the police.

The Ramot Alon drivers decided to give this woman free transportation for two months… The whole entire company. Each and every one of them. It’s what “little” they can do for her.

If you’ve think that Israeli taxi drivers are looking to rip you off… just think again.

Written on my Blackberry from the back seat of a Ramot Alon taxi. 

Today’s word: Shnekel.

Informants from the schoolyard report that the new two-shekel coin is being called the shnekel, a contraction — or would that be a portmanteau? — of the words “shnei shekel” (”two shekel“).

[Thanks to Ami and Ken for the tip. No, they’re not the ones on the schoolyard.] 

Friday night was not an ordinary Sabbath evening in our haredi neighborhood of Jerusalem. At 2:30am I was wakened by a police car circling the streets, announcing: “Dear Residents: A 12-year old child is missing from his home. All who are able should come to help in the search.” The quiet zone that is Shabbos was broken.

Men in fur shtreimels, men in suits and ties, men in flannel pajamas and bathrobes, yeshiva students in sweatsuits, carrying flashlights, riding motorcycles, patrolling in cars. Helicopters circling low, flare explosions down in the valley, police hunching over a map big enough to serve
as a Shabbos tablecloth.

Hushed mid-street conferences under the yellow glow of the streetlights. Cars, motorcycles, ambulances, and police vans patrolling the silent streets. Tens of people working their way methodically from synagogue to synagogue. By 4.00am, hundreds of neighbors were quietly taking up the trail. Down the mountainside, out to the highway, peering into the ancient and crumbling structures in Lifta, carloads dispatched to an ever-increasing radius of Jerusalem neighborhoods, Ezrat Torah, Ganei Geula, Mea Shearim, Geula, Har Nof, Givat Shaul, Bayit Vegan, Ramot.

By daybreak, several hundred people had fanned out to search, building by building, from roof to basement, then to report back to the headquarters at the community center.

Serious faces, determined expressions, blistered feet, up and down hundreds and thousands of stairs. Jackets going on and off in the cold air and heat of exertion. Every hour, the announcement repeated: “A boy has been missing from his home since the afternoon. All who are able should come help in the search.”

…the exhaustion, and the swell of relief as the news spread that he was found.

The right technology chosen for the right context. Compare with reverse 9-1-1 alerts during the California fires, and silent radio frequencies for wartime communication.

Car-mounted amplified announcements are used frequently to advertise sales, prayer rallies and funerals in religious neighborhoods, where a vast majority of the population does not access mass media outlets. In the twelve years that we have lived in Israel, this was only the third time that an announcement was circulated on Shabbos: the first was when a toddler was kidnapped (she was found, thanks in part to the amplified bulletin), and the second was when a specific brand of baby formula was found to be causing serious neurological damage to babies (it was later discovered that the problem was a lack of B-vitamins, not a toxin).

Whoddathunk?

(left, sign imitating the Bar Ilan trademark; right, an authorized Bar Ilan taxi sign) 

Taxis in Israel are required to be registered with the Ministry of Transportation, but they are essentially individual operators. Taxi “companies” are made up of independent drivers who pay a monthly fee in exchange for being included in the dispatch system of that company, plus the right to display the company sign in the front windshield.

In the last 15 years, that company sign has become more important, imparting a sense of trust and accountability. Many Israelis — and even more tourists — avoid non-affiliated taxis, for fear of inadvertently hailing an unregistered or unsafe taxi.

It’s not unusual for drivers unassociated with a company to have a one-off sign printed for themselves, with their name (or “company” name, like “Shema Yisrael Taxis”) and phone number on them. The theory is that the person hailing a taxi is likely to see only that there is a sign, not will not see what is written on the sign until after the taxi has gotten quite close, and the implicit agreement to take the fare is made. For the most part, that is quite true.

This is not especially about Arab vs. Israeli drivers, since many reputable taxi companies include both Arab and Israeli drivers (examples include Davidka Taxis and Rehavia Taxis).

One of the two largest taxi groups in Jerusalem is Bar Ilan taxis (they enroll Israeli drivers only). They are easily distinguished by a trapezoidal orange sign reading “Bar Ilan”, under which is the taxi call number, then the office phone number. Recently, they have also added flags on their roofs.

I have a couple of times seen a taxi using the sign of a defunct but reputable company. Today, though, I rode in a truly “counterfeit” taxi (click on image above for greater detail). The yellow trapezoidal sign reads:

Bar Alon Taxi

01

[cell phone number]

The sign clearly is meant to imply membership in the Bar Ilan group. Also, despite the imitative “BS”D” on his sign (an acronym for “with the help of Heaven”, common on documents of religious Jews), he was clearly an Arab. The driver also did not have the taxi owner’s and driver’s ID information posted in the car’s interior — a violation of the law.

Update:

According to Bar Ilan Taxis, the matter has been previously reported, and is under investigation by the police.

Seen in Tel Aviv:

Here’s the current leader in my files for Worst Exterior Elevator Signage. How long does it take for you to figure out how to get to the office you are visiting?

The irony is that there is a very good user interface design company here… I guess the building management didn’t hire them.

Some useful [?] terms, if you’re visiting Israel:

kochavit: lit.: little star; the asterisk/star key

sulamit: lit.: little ladder; the pound key

shtrudel: lit.: pastry roll; the @ symbol

jemsbond: lit.: James Bond; colloquially, an attache case

Have you got some favorite examples? I’d love to see them in the Comments!

It was with a pleasant start that I received my change, including a shiny new 2 shekel coin (my first). Sized between a 1 NIS and a 5 NIS coin, its value is about 50 cents, which is a very practical amount. Since I came to Israel, the 5 and 10 NIS bills have been phased out to be replaced by coins; also gone is the 1 agora coin (worth about 0.25 U.S. cents), with the 5 agora coin (1.25 U.S. cents) scheduled for obselescence next year.

I do foresee that this new coin will take some adjusting  to both mentally (to quickly identify the coin my wallet) and practically (not to make payment mistakes). Actually, considering the question, I think that this 2 NIS coin is going to be a problem for a while. The 1 and 5 NIS coins are so far apart in size that I never would confuse them, despite their sharing a color. But this nice new 2 NIS coin is too close to both of those, and will require a lot more attention to identify. The Bank of Israel claims that the size was a deliberate decision, meant to convey the coins value between 1 and 5 NIS. Oh, well. Remember the Susan B. Anthony dollar? It was always getting confused with a quarter… and died a silent death. I haven’t seen too many Sacagawea coins around, either.

*There’s a word I don’t have much opportunity to use, so please excuse the indulgence.

Imagine my Americanized surprise to find this page in my daughter’s school book:

The bird is in the birdhouse. The cat is in the garbage. The cow is in the shed. The fish is in the water.

Doubletake.

The cat is in the garbage?

Indeed, in most parts of Israel cats are not pets, they are rodent control and garbage scavengers. They are considered almost like rats (and as infectious).

Even when we think we know what we’re all talking about (cats), sometimes we don’t know at all.

I didn’t manage to catch a picture of the rabbi himself, but the respect with which he was escorted to pray at the Western Wall was impressive. One person held a colorful umbrella over his head; the others followed. The rabbis robes were bright and colorful, with metallic highlights.

Seen in a Jerusalem apartment building. It’s very common for Orthodox women, who generally cover their hair after marriage, to wear wigs. This one appears to be left out for pickup (by a hairdresser?). Note that while women generally are discreet about a wig (shaitl in Yiddish; pe’ah in Hebrew), there is no shame in wearing one, which explains why it’s in poor taste but not shameful for this specimen to be outside the front door. I’ll admit that it did give me a surprise as I came up the steps. (In fact, good wigs cost well upward of $1000, are identified by brand name and worn with pride.)