(Spoiler alert: I'm in a very bad mood so if you can't stand the heat, get out of my kitchen. I have to stir the pot or I am never going to be able to sleep tonight.)
My father was a federal judge. He became a judge when I was in university and my brother and sister were still in high school. When he received his appointment from the prime minister of Canada, the one and only demand my mother made of us -- his children (well, probably only me since I was the most likely candidate for causing trouble) -- was that we never do anything to embarass my father and damage his good name. It was a reasonable request and until the day he died I am pretty sure that we never did anything to cause him public grief.
For his part, he did us all proud. He was honest and fair. And most important, he never forgot where he came from or who is was. The fifth of six children born to poor Eastern European Jewish immigrants who came to Canada to escape the pogroms and build a better life.
One of the many reasons he accepted the appointment was because he was Jewish and at that time there weren't a lot of Jewish federal judges in Canada. Being Jewish was a signficant factor in his decision.
Which brings me to that poor excuse for a Jewish judge: the scumbag Goldstone.
I cannot even say his name without triggering a wave a nausea.
My Jewish readers already know his story. He was selected by the UN (no friend of Israel) to lead in inquiry into Cast Lead. He did and the results were very damning to Israel. Israeli Jews were shocked by his findings because he laid equal blame on the Israel Defence Forces (a legal army protecting a legitimate country) and Hamas (a terrorist organization elected in fake elections). Yes, I know that there are lots of people in the world who see it that way, but none of them come from the rational, impartial camp.
The results of his inquiry did more damage to Israel than anything in recent or not so recent memory. As Churchill once said, rumours get half way around the world before the truth even gets its pants on. The damage was done.
And then, what did that jerk do? A year or so after his report was made public, he turned around in an interview in the Washington Post and recanted his committee's findings. Oops, he said, I might have been wrong.
The only thing that he was wrong about was the reaction that the Jewish world would have to him. The man is a known career climber of monumental proportions. He never once stopped to think about the implications of his actions -- all he was thinking about was his future career options. He never expected the Jewish community of South Africa, from whence he hailed, to virtually ostracize him. The only way he could attend his grandson's bar mitzvah last summer was with a pack of body guards.
That speaks volumes: what kind of Jew needs body guards in a synagogue? It is a virtual contradiction of thoughts.
And I doubt he would survive more than 24 hours upon arriving in Israel as a private citizen, although given his feelings about Israel, I don't think visiting here is on his schedule. Just as well. He would make Jimmy Carter look like a welcomed guest.
All I want to do is make sense of a completely nonsensical sitution. I simply can't get my mind around the idea of a Jew who would sell Israel down the river, lock stock and barrel. I understand that there are lots of Jews who don't love Israel and there a lot more who never even think about Israel at all, but when someone in Goldstone's position chooses to stab his own people in the back in the most public of forums -- in front of the entire world -- for the sake of his own career advancement, I am compelled to conclude that the world really must be coming to an end.
The holocaust concluded a mere 67 years ago. There are still enough living survivors of the death and labour camps, hidden children, and righteous gentiles alive to remind us that in the 20th century -- in a country as modern as Germany -- bad things can happen to Jews. And they can happen in the blink of an eye.
Where the hell was Goldstone when we Jews were all learning that important lesson? And where was he when the State of Israel was born and for the first time in 2000 years the Jews of the world knew that there was a country out there that had their backs? If they were ever in trouble simply for being Jews, Israel would get to them.
The State of Israel has gone to the rescue of Jews in every crazy corner of the world. Entebbe. Addis Ababa. Kenya. Would the Americans do that? Ha. Would the Canadians. Double ha. And let's not start with the European countries.
Apparently Goldstone is so arrogant that he believes he will never need Israel. And for his sake I hope he never does .... because I don't think any Israeli Jew would agree to spend one agurot of public money to save his sorry ass.
For my part, I am packing a lawn chair, a cooler, and blanket, and I am driving to Megiddo -- which, according to the Book of Revelations in the New Testament it is the site of Armageddon, the end of the world. It's only an hour and a half from my house, and I want a good seat to watch Goldstone go down. I can't think of any living person that I would rather watch rot in hell.
Showing posts with label banking in Israel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label banking in Israel. Show all posts
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
"Israel stands alone"
Never go to bed. Because if you do, you will eventually have a day where you wake up, turn on your computer and get hit in the face with an onslaught of media reminders of Israel's reality. Today is such a day.
Rather than comment any further -- it's not that sort of posting -- I am going to publish what I believe are the FACTS of the story. All I can add is that after 20 odd years as a PR professional, this is an excellent example of where perception becomes reality. The truth is based on one's perspective and the expectations on Israel are different from those on the rest of the world.
Here is what I think is a worthwhile summary of the story:
* Israeli sailors, attempting to board one of the six ships of the protest flotilla en route to Gaza, were attacked by dozens of activists armed with knives, metal bars, and handguns. Fearing for their lives, the Israeli soldiers had no choice but to respond. At least four Israeli personnel were wounded by various means, including by gunfire from activists.
* Israel made every effort to provide the flotilla organizers with an opportunity to avoid a confrontation. Israel offered to bring the flotilla into the port of Ashdod, and to transfer their aid to Gaza following appropriate security checks. The organizers rejected this offer, stating clearly that "this mission is not about delivering humanitarian supplies, it's about breaking Israel's siege."
* Israel gave repeated warning of the maritime blockade in effect off the coast of Gaza and that the flotilla would be turned away and brought to an Israeli port to offload their cargo.
* The organizers of the protest deliberately invited a confrontation with Israeli sailors. This was not an aid mission, but a PR stunt designed to undermine Israel and bolster Hamas, internationally recognized as a terrorist organization. Among the protestors were a group of highly-trained extremists with links to the Muslim Brotherhood and jihadist groups in Afghanistan.
* There is no blockade on humanitarian aid to Gaza. In fact, Israel delivers 15,000 tons of humanitarian aid – including medical supplies, food, and water – to Gaza every week. The blockade exists to prevent unauthorized individuals and unknown cargo from entering Gaza and falling into the hands of its ruling Hamas regime.
* Hamas is presently smuggling in massive amounts of military supplies into Gaza to fortify its positions and continue its attacks. Under international law Israel has the right to intercept vehicles that are "believed on reasonable grounds to be carrying contraband or breaching a blockade, and after prior warning they intentionally and clearly refuse to stop, or intentionally and clearly resist visit, search or capture." (Section 67A of the San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea).
I just read a great idea on another blog (http://supportisraelnow.blogspot.com/2010/05/monday-may-31-2010.html) and I like it. I am looking for a spot on the flotilla. Here it is:
"In the meantime, I am thinking of organizing a flotilla of my own. It will sail for Turkey. Its purpose will be to publicize the plight of the Kurds under the Turkish Government and speak for their immediate independence. And while we are there, we will hold some public discussions about the unquestioned Turkish genocide of the Armenians after World War I. But leave the clubs, knives, etc. at home - it will be a peaceful event. Let's see how the Turks handle this."
Oh, I just read this article and you should too: http://article.nationalreview.com/435253/flotillas-and-falsehoods/mona-charen?page=2
Rather than comment any further -- it's not that sort of posting -- I am going to publish what I believe are the FACTS of the story. All I can add is that after 20 odd years as a PR professional, this is an excellent example of where perception becomes reality. The truth is based on one's perspective and the expectations on Israel are different from those on the rest of the world.
Here is what I think is a worthwhile summary of the story:
* Israeli sailors, attempting to board one of the six ships of the protest flotilla en route to Gaza, were attacked by dozens of activists armed with knives, metal bars, and handguns. Fearing for their lives, the Israeli soldiers had no choice but to respond. At least four Israeli personnel were wounded by various means, including by gunfire from activists.
* Israel made every effort to provide the flotilla organizers with an opportunity to avoid a confrontation. Israel offered to bring the flotilla into the port of Ashdod, and to transfer their aid to Gaza following appropriate security checks. The organizers rejected this offer, stating clearly that "this mission is not about delivering humanitarian supplies, it's about breaking Israel's siege."
* Israel gave repeated warning of the maritime blockade in effect off the coast of Gaza and that the flotilla would be turned away and brought to an Israeli port to offload their cargo.
* The organizers of the protest deliberately invited a confrontation with Israeli sailors. This was not an aid mission, but a PR stunt designed to undermine Israel and bolster Hamas, internationally recognized as a terrorist organization. Among the protestors were a group of highly-trained extremists with links to the Muslim Brotherhood and jihadist groups in Afghanistan.
* There is no blockade on humanitarian aid to Gaza. In fact, Israel delivers 15,000 tons of humanitarian aid – including medical supplies, food, and water – to Gaza every week. The blockade exists to prevent unauthorized individuals and unknown cargo from entering Gaza and falling into the hands of its ruling Hamas regime.
* Hamas is presently smuggling in massive amounts of military supplies into Gaza to fortify its positions and continue its attacks. Under international law Israel has the right to intercept vehicles that are "believed on reasonable grounds to be carrying contraband or breaching a blockade, and after prior warning they intentionally and clearly refuse to stop, or intentionally and clearly resist visit, search or capture." (Section 67A of the San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea).
I just read a great idea on another blog (http://supportisraelnow.blogspot.com/2010/05/monday-may-31-2010.html) and I like it. I am looking for a spot on the flotilla. Here it is:
"In the meantime, I am thinking of organizing a flotilla of my own. It will sail for Turkey. Its purpose will be to publicize the plight of the Kurds under the Turkish Government and speak for their immediate independence. And while we are there, we will hold some public discussions about the unquestioned Turkish genocide of the Armenians after World War I. But leave the clubs, knives, etc. at home - it will be a peaceful event. Let's see how the Turks handle this."
Oh, I just read this article and you should too: http://article.nationalreview.com/435253/flotillas-and-falsehoods/mona-charen?page=2
Friday, February 19, 2010
Taking your life in your hands in Bnei Brak
Once a week for the past three years I have been driving carpool an early morning carpool to my sons’ school in Bnei Brak. How early? Put it this way, rule number one of this exercise is that we have to be on the highway by 7:00 a.m. otherwise the traffic backs up to the point that you might as well stay home until 10:00a.m. because you could walk faster than the cars are moving. That’s how early.
Driving in Israel is a life experience that I could live without at the best of times, but out there on the highway – and later, in the tangled streets of Bnei Brak – you need nerves of driving steel.
If you have the good fortune to find yourself on the highway in non-rush hour traffic, you most likely will eventually witness the driving finesse that I can only attribute to fighter pilots or people with a death wish. The problem in Israel is that the country is full of people who have high-end military basic training. Not the run-of-the-mill stuff that the average soldier needs, but rather, the kind of training that takes months and months, if not a year, to complete. People die in this training – no, not often, but there are some who just don’t make it. And those who do eventually leave the army and get cars. And then, they decide to drive those cars on the highway at the same time that I am out there.
I have seen people cut into another lane without the slightest hint that there is either room to do so or that the driver they are cutting off is inclined to give way. I have seen people driving so fast in the pouring rain, that they spin out, then correct the spin and drive away. If that happened to me, I would pull over to the side, thank God, and call a cab.
So, having survived the craziness I often see on the highway, we usually manage to arrive at the Bnei Brak exit at about 7:10. Here, you meet the exact opposite problem. No one is moving because everyone is trying to move – into the exact same spot – at precisely the same second. In case it isn’t obvious ... this is physically impossible. However, this does not deter people from attempting the same move over and over again.
The key to moving forward under these maxi-grid-conditions is to continue to inch forward consistently. It also involves ignoring all the people yelling at you and trying to out-inch you. You need nerves of steel for this move.
And then when you finally get past this little impasse from hell, you are in Bnei Brak. For those of you who do not know much about Israel, let me tell you that BB is one of the poorest, most crowded cities in the country primarily because most men from BB don’t work. They send their pregnant wives out to work at low paying jobs while they spend their days avoiding their national army service and choosing, instead, to study Torah. As a result, they have no money. However, they have many children.
Many of these men are also responsible for getting their kids out the door to school in the morning, which explains why I almost kill a child at least once per trip. Apparently these fathers are not familiar with the “look-both-ways” concept of my youth. Actually, I still use it with my kids but it is not a common phenomenon in BB. Of course, most of the kids are out on the streets alone and without that looking both ways thing, are prone to running out into what is already the biggest jumble of traffic you can imagine.
I am no fan of the ultra orthodox who populate these neighbourhoods, but I am not interested in killing any of them – particularly the children. I don’t agree with their lifestyle choices but I am not a vigilante correction force of one. We have enough killers just outside our borders. I have no intention of reducing myself to their tactics.
Finally, there are the stupid bus drivers who bully their ways into spots they have no right to be. In Israeil traffic – and particularly in BB traffic – might does make right and the bus drivers live by this motto completely.
I really need room for a diagram here so I can show you how even if I have the right of way and the road is incredibly narrow with cars carelessly parked on either side, the oncoming bus will always lurch forward and position itself so that it is impossible to pass without taking all the paint off the drivers’ side of your car. (I know this from experience.) All they had to do to be decent people and good citizens was give you your God-given right-of-way for all of 10 seconds, and none of the fiascos that occur daily would exist. But nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. That is not the Israeli way.
The Israeli way means not allowing yourself to be a fryer. A fryer is a sucker. And being a sucker is the most anti-Israeli thing an Israeli can do. Eating pork on Yom Kippur is a weak second to being perceived as a sucker in Israel. Therefore, no self-respecting, Israeli-born bus driver is ever going to give way to a stupid CAR (heaven forbid). Of course, I doubt they would give way to a monster truck either. It’s just not in their collective character.
By the time I arrive back in my driveway, I am always amazed the I made it home in one piece. Other than a little shaking and a racing heart beat, I am usually ready to hit the road again for the next week’s carpool.
Driving in Israel is a life experience that I could live without at the best of times, but out there on the highway – and later, in the tangled streets of Bnei Brak – you need nerves of driving steel.
If you have the good fortune to find yourself on the highway in non-rush hour traffic, you most likely will eventually witness the driving finesse that I can only attribute to fighter pilots or people with a death wish. The problem in Israel is that the country is full of people who have high-end military basic training. Not the run-of-the-mill stuff that the average soldier needs, but rather, the kind of training that takes months and months, if not a year, to complete. People die in this training – no, not often, but there are some who just don’t make it. And those who do eventually leave the army and get cars. And then, they decide to drive those cars on the highway at the same time that I am out there.
I have seen people cut into another lane without the slightest hint that there is either room to do so or that the driver they are cutting off is inclined to give way. I have seen people driving so fast in the pouring rain, that they spin out, then correct the spin and drive away. If that happened to me, I would pull over to the side, thank God, and call a cab.
So, having survived the craziness I often see on the highway, we usually manage to arrive at the Bnei Brak exit at about 7:10. Here, you meet the exact opposite problem. No one is moving because everyone is trying to move – into the exact same spot – at precisely the same second. In case it isn’t obvious ... this is physically impossible. However, this does not deter people from attempting the same move over and over again.
The key to moving forward under these maxi-grid-conditions is to continue to inch forward consistently. It also involves ignoring all the people yelling at you and trying to out-inch you. You need nerves of steel for this move.
And then when you finally get past this little impasse from hell, you are in Bnei Brak. For those of you who do not know much about Israel, let me tell you that BB is one of the poorest, most crowded cities in the country primarily because most men from BB don’t work. They send their pregnant wives out to work at low paying jobs while they spend their days avoiding their national army service and choosing, instead, to study Torah. As a result, they have no money. However, they have many children.
Many of these men are also responsible for getting their kids out the door to school in the morning, which explains why I almost kill a child at least once per trip. Apparently these fathers are not familiar with the “look-both-ways” concept of my youth. Actually, I still use it with my kids but it is not a common phenomenon in BB. Of course, most of the kids are out on the streets alone and without that looking both ways thing, are prone to running out into what is already the biggest jumble of traffic you can imagine.
I am no fan of the ultra orthodox who populate these neighbourhoods, but I am not interested in killing any of them – particularly the children. I don’t agree with their lifestyle choices but I am not a vigilante correction force of one. We have enough killers just outside our borders. I have no intention of reducing myself to their tactics.
Finally, there are the stupid bus drivers who bully their ways into spots they have no right to be. In Israeil traffic – and particularly in BB traffic – might does make right and the bus drivers live by this motto completely.
I really need room for a diagram here so I can show you how even if I have the right of way and the road is incredibly narrow with cars carelessly parked on either side, the oncoming bus will always lurch forward and position itself so that it is impossible to pass without taking all the paint off the drivers’ side of your car. (I know this from experience.) All they had to do to be decent people and good citizens was give you your God-given right-of-way for all of 10 seconds, and none of the fiascos that occur daily would exist. But nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. That is not the Israeli way.
The Israeli way means not allowing yourself to be a fryer. A fryer is a sucker. And being a sucker is the most anti-Israeli thing an Israeli can do. Eating pork on Yom Kippur is a weak second to being perceived as a sucker in Israel. Therefore, no self-respecting, Israeli-born bus driver is ever going to give way to a stupid CAR (heaven forbid). Of course, I doubt they would give way to a monster truck either. It’s just not in their collective character.
By the time I arrive back in my driveway, I am always amazed the I made it home in one piece. Other than a little shaking and a racing heart beat, I am usually ready to hit the road again for the next week’s carpool.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
So much for my kind words about Israel
I think it must have been the hand of God reminding me not to let things go to my head. And what a reminder it was. A few days ago, I was extolling the virtues of Israel, and then today -- bang -- I am reminded of the things that bug me most about this country.
I just called Bank HaPoalim to get some help with my internet banking access codes. I have no idea why I am having problems with them but it doesn't matter. What matters is that I cannot access my bank account on the internet so I did what any normal person would do at that moment.... I called the bank's helpline.
I guess I should have been suspicious from the very beginning because the whole concept of customer service was neither created in Israel nor has it truly arrived here. Israelis don't believe in customer service. They are more tachlis (English translation: bottom line) than that. I think they view customer service as a support tool for woosies.
Here's what happened: I called the helpline to get ... help. The fellow who answered asked me a few questions in hebrew and I answered them. But when we got to the discussion about my issue, I asked him in hebrew if we could please switch to English. (side note: I learned the hard way the first year we lived here -- after I transfered 20,000 nis to someone else's account) that I should not bank in hebrew. In fact, according to Chaim I should not do anything with serious or official implications in hebrew because I make too many mistakes.)
This is the part that just kills me. The Customer Service guy on the other end of the phone says to me -- in very clean English: "We do not work in English and I can only do this with you in Hebrew." Then he proceeds to ask me a few more hebrew questions. I continue to say in hebrew: "it's not important and I don't want to continue," but he doesn't listen. I tell him again -- in Hebrew -- that I don't want to continue in Hebrew and when he ignores me I just say thanks (because I am still a Canadian and I can't help myself) and hang up.
Now dont' bother writing to me to tell me that I live in Israel and I should speak Hebrew. I do speak Hebrew in a variety of situations every day. I do not speak it with any finesse whatsoever, but I do speak the official language of the country on a matter of principal. I am sure that the father of modern Hebrew, Eliezer Ben Yehuda, just rolls over in his grave every time I spout out a brutally structured sentence, but at least I try.
However, when it comes to things like money, insurance, health and the likes, I need to understand each and every little detail and therefore, I have to switch to English. Sue me.
Also, there are thousands upon thousands of Bank HaPoalim customers who don't live in Israel and need to bank in English. I know this for a fact because I often hear my banker talking to people about their accounts on the phone. They call from South Africa, England, the States, Canada and anywhere else you can find English-speaking Jews. Is the bank trying to tell me that they don't want those people's money if the only way they can get it is by speaking English? Ha, I seriously doubt that. Banking is business and a damn good business at that. I doubt they reject any infusion of cash that arrives legally. (I am giving them the benefit of the doubt here vis-a-vis the origins of that cash.)
So now I have no choice but to go to the bank -- the exact action that I was trying to avoid by having internet banking in the first place -- to tell them what I think of them. Of course, they probably won't take me very seriously because I have told them what I think of them before and I haven't seen them change their ways even one iota as a result of my complaints.
With my luck, they will probably tell me to call Customer Service.
I just called Bank HaPoalim to get some help with my internet banking access codes. I have no idea why I am having problems with them but it doesn't matter. What matters is that I cannot access my bank account on the internet so I did what any normal person would do at that moment.... I called the bank's helpline.
I guess I should have been suspicious from the very beginning because the whole concept of customer service was neither created in Israel nor has it truly arrived here. Israelis don't believe in customer service. They are more tachlis (English translation: bottom line) than that. I think they view customer service as a support tool for woosies.
Here's what happened: I called the helpline to get ... help. The fellow who answered asked me a few questions in hebrew and I answered them. But when we got to the discussion about my issue, I asked him in hebrew if we could please switch to English. (side note: I learned the hard way the first year we lived here -- after I transfered 20,000 nis to someone else's account) that I should not bank in hebrew. In fact, according to Chaim I should not do anything with serious or official implications in hebrew because I make too many mistakes.)
This is the part that just kills me. The Customer Service guy on the other end of the phone says to me -- in very clean English: "We do not work in English and I can only do this with you in Hebrew." Then he proceeds to ask me a few more hebrew questions. I continue to say in hebrew: "it's not important and I don't want to continue," but he doesn't listen. I tell him again -- in Hebrew -- that I don't want to continue in Hebrew and when he ignores me I just say thanks (because I am still a Canadian and I can't help myself) and hang up.
Now dont' bother writing to me to tell me that I live in Israel and I should speak Hebrew. I do speak Hebrew in a variety of situations every day. I do not speak it with any finesse whatsoever, but I do speak the official language of the country on a matter of principal. I am sure that the father of modern Hebrew, Eliezer Ben Yehuda, just rolls over in his grave every time I spout out a brutally structured sentence, but at least I try.
However, when it comes to things like money, insurance, health and the likes, I need to understand each and every little detail and therefore, I have to switch to English. Sue me.
Also, there are thousands upon thousands of Bank HaPoalim customers who don't live in Israel and need to bank in English. I know this for a fact because I often hear my banker talking to people about their accounts on the phone. They call from South Africa, England, the States, Canada and anywhere else you can find English-speaking Jews. Is the bank trying to tell me that they don't want those people's money if the only way they can get it is by speaking English? Ha, I seriously doubt that. Banking is business and a damn good business at that. I doubt they reject any infusion of cash that arrives legally. (I am giving them the benefit of the doubt here vis-a-vis the origins of that cash.)
So now I have no choice but to go to the bank -- the exact action that I was trying to avoid by having internet banking in the first place -- to tell them what I think of them. Of course, they probably won't take me very seriously because I have told them what I think of them before and I haven't seen them change their ways even one iota as a result of my complaints.
With my luck, they will probably tell me to call Customer Service.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
And I worried when my banker retired
For some reason, I have a banker. I never really had such a person that I could contact in Canada, but I do now. I am sure there is some explanation for it but I really don't care. Truth is, I like it.
Until a few months ago, we had another woman who took care of our banking needs. She had been helping us since we moved here and I was very upset when she decided to retire. She wasn't that old -- probably sixty -- and I was not ready for her to make a life change. She didn't consult with me, but all of a sudden, one day I walked into her cubicle and another woman was sitting there beside her. In true Israeli fashion, she didn't say a word about this woman and the woman made no effort to leave when I arrived. She stayed for the entire discussion. Finally, I had to ask who she was.
According to Dvorah, her husband was retiring and she had decided to retire too. That might sound very reasonable but I was not happy that there was going to be a disruption in my banking life.
In Canada I was a capable bank client. I understood the process and the logic of banking. And if there was something I didn't understand I could always ask for additional information in English. I never figured that the transition to being the family bank activity executor would be much different in Israel. Well, yet again, I could not have been more wrong.
Banking logic in Israel is definitely not derived from the Canadian banking system. For example, you cannot carry over a credit card balance from one month to the next. At the end of the month, the credit card company -- in conjunction with the bank -- swoops in and take the amount that it is owed out of your bank account. And heaven help you if you do not have the funds on hand to pay. I think they send someone to your home to take your children!!! (oh, I am joking, but it's not a bad plan.)
Another example, even when there was monthly interest in Canadian bank accounts, there was no such animal in my day-to-day shekel account here.
And rather than list everything weird that goes on in hebrew when I do the banking here, let me just add that I have to go to a different teller for almost every conceivable action. One deals in cash; another deals in transactions that don't involve physically touching cash; and yet another deals in foreign currencies, while the next one only deals in shekels. Suffice it to say that if you have an iPod, always take it with you to the bank -- along with a snack -- because you are going to be there for a while.
Now with all this banking confusion it would seem to me that anyone who retired would stay far away from the bank afterwards. But no, that is not the case. Today, when I got to the bank to have all my banking correspondence translated and explained to me in English, there was Dvorah hanging out in her old cubicle along with Sari, the woman who took her place. And that's not the best of it..... there was a customer in there discussing his account. Dvorah had just dropped by with her husband I later found out, but it never dawned on her to not be involved with Sari and the customer.
No one seemed to mind that there was a non-bank employee smack dab in the middle of the discussion. I just sat there watching the whole thing. It was better than tv although some subtitles would have been nice.
When the discussion finally ended, I said to Dvorah: "haven't you had enough of this place?" That was my polite way of saying: "What the hell are you doing in the middle of a private banking conversation between a banker and her client?" Dvorah just laughed. She loves dropping by for a few hours now and then just to be part of things again, she explained. So now I see that old bankers never go away, they just cash in and out now and then.
Until a few months ago, we had another woman who took care of our banking needs. She had been helping us since we moved here and I was very upset when she decided to retire. She wasn't that old -- probably sixty -- and I was not ready for her to make a life change. She didn't consult with me, but all of a sudden, one day I walked into her cubicle and another woman was sitting there beside her. In true Israeli fashion, she didn't say a word about this woman and the woman made no effort to leave when I arrived. She stayed for the entire discussion. Finally, I had to ask who she was.
According to Dvorah, her husband was retiring and she had decided to retire too. That might sound very reasonable but I was not happy that there was going to be a disruption in my banking life.
In Canada I was a capable bank client. I understood the process and the logic of banking. And if there was something I didn't understand I could always ask for additional information in English. I never figured that the transition to being the family bank activity executor would be much different in Israel. Well, yet again, I could not have been more wrong.
Banking logic in Israel is definitely not derived from the Canadian banking system. For example, you cannot carry over a credit card balance from one month to the next. At the end of the month, the credit card company -- in conjunction with the bank -- swoops in and take the amount that it is owed out of your bank account. And heaven help you if you do not have the funds on hand to pay. I think they send someone to your home to take your children!!! (oh, I am joking, but it's not a bad plan.)
Another example, even when there was monthly interest in Canadian bank accounts, there was no such animal in my day-to-day shekel account here.
And rather than list everything weird that goes on in hebrew when I do the banking here, let me just add that I have to go to a different teller for almost every conceivable action. One deals in cash; another deals in transactions that don't involve physically touching cash; and yet another deals in foreign currencies, while the next one only deals in shekels. Suffice it to say that if you have an iPod, always take it with you to the bank -- along with a snack -- because you are going to be there for a while.
Now with all this banking confusion it would seem to me that anyone who retired would stay far away from the bank afterwards. But no, that is not the case. Today, when I got to the bank to have all my banking correspondence translated and explained to me in English, there was Dvorah hanging out in her old cubicle along with Sari, the woman who took her place. And that's not the best of it..... there was a customer in there discussing his account. Dvorah had just dropped by with her husband I later found out, but it never dawned on her to not be involved with Sari and the customer.
No one seemed to mind that there was a non-bank employee smack dab in the middle of the discussion. I just sat there watching the whole thing. It was better than tv although some subtitles would have been nice.
When the discussion finally ended, I said to Dvorah: "haven't you had enough of this place?" That was my polite way of saying: "What the hell are you doing in the middle of a private banking conversation between a banker and her client?" Dvorah just laughed. She loves dropping by for a few hours now and then just to be part of things again, she explained. So now I see that old bankers never go away, they just cash in and out now and then.
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