January 27, 2009
Something I certainly didn’t expect was to have to pay to urinate in Jerusalem. Linda and I took the very convenient bus from the Arlozorov station, about a 30 minute walk from our apartment, pay 16 shekels, about $4 and in 50 minutes we pulled into the bus terminal in Jerusalem We headed for the sherutim, only to find a revolving gate blocking the entrance with people chattering about needing change. On principle (I assume there’s something in the Talmud about paying to urinate), we walked out of the station on Jaffe St. to walk towards our meeting on King George St. About 20 minutes later we were at the intersection and spotted a shopping mall, assured that there would be bathrooms. At the base of the stairs leading to the restrooms, a man was sitting at a desk, obviously collecting fees, 1.5 shekels. Having thrown our principles to the wind, we went to the restroom in the bus station before boarding to return to Tel Aviv and were able to urinate for the bargain price of 1 shekel. I am a proponent of markets, but given that peeing on the street or in an alley is basically an example of a classic public good, it makes no sense to dis-incentivize the use of restrooms by charging for them. And of course, why in Israel would this be happening?
Exiting from the terminal to Jaffe St. and the contrast with Tel Aviv is unmistakable. Jaffe St. is undergoing a major renovation with the laying of a track for a light rail system so the clutter of people, cars, buses heightens the impressions. Observant Jews of many sects, each with their particular dress and mannerism, hurried about. It certainly catches one’s eye when a man out of 17th century Poland walks by with his iPod dangling. The building are either all made out of the bright tan of Jerusalem stone or other materials made to look like that.
There is a large shuk about 10 minutes from the terminal, so we could not help but wander through. There were 10 or even 20 small “blocks,” each accommodating 5 or 6 stalls, selling all manner of produce, fish, meat, spices, halvah, kitchen goods, and small clothing items. Did I mention halvah? We noted a few items that we planned to purchase on our return to the terminal later in the day.
I had a meeting with Becky Caspi, head of UJC in Israel. The headquarters are in the National Agencies Building. This two story limestone structure is build around a courtyard, kind of like a large block “C.” This building served as the offices for the Jewish Agency during the yishuv, prior to the establishment of the state. At the time of independence, many of these agencies that had been acting basically as shadow ministries assumed the responsibilities of government. The only agency that did not become a governmental ministry was that dealing with immigration, which as we know, was massive after the War for Independence. This became the Jewish Agency for Israel, the primary focus of which is immigration and absorption. It is a quasi-independent organization, having established a covenant with the state in the 1950s. The political entanglements are just that. There are benefits to being more closely linked to government agencies, to having a preferential seat at the table, but at the same time the agency is encumbered by the unsavory side of the politics taking place at the table or sometimes under the table. The role of the Jewish Agency is something that I am keen to learn much more about while here.
The guard at the front desk asked our destination and directed us to room 237 way at the back of the second floor. When Becky Caspi warmly greeted us she asked if we had difficulty getting through security, a question that baffled Linda and me. We went to lunch and had an animated conversation about our interests and plans on being in Israel, as well as different programs and activities of UJC and other agencies. We also discussed our families. Becky has three children. The oldest daughter is about to be discharged from the IDF, having recently returned from Gaza where she served as a medic. The only women to serve in Gaza were physicians and medics. Her next daughter is about to enter the army and her 11 year old son is being an 11 year old. At the end of lunch we had long lists of names for possible contacts.