Matzlichah (To Succeed)

April 1, 2009

I walked to Assuta Hospital on Rehov Jabotinsky in order to have some routine laboratory work done. I have not spent much time on the Israeli health system, so this is not an explanation or analysis. I do not even know the history of this hospital or how it relates to the system. That said, the hospital looks like a group of houses or small buildings that have been connected by walkways, some covered, others not. Some of the corridors linking wards on the second or third floors are also open. The setting was a distinct contrast to the modern, glass and steel, Tel Aviv Medical Center. The guard at the main entrance directed me through the main courtyard to section 5, first floor (not the ground floor). The yard was a lush, vibrant array of foliage—flowers in bloom with the ever-changing spring season, trees, and a small lawn. Patients, in hospital garb, were sitting on benches, many, interestingly enough, smoking, but other than that the ambiance of this garden was calming and healing. There was nobody waiting in the lab, so I walked to the desk and was relieved that the clerk spoke English. Not only did I want some reassurance that I was in the right place and that these tests could be done, but it turned out that they “needed” my passport number, an interaction that was better conducted in English.

We have not yet been able to figure out the passport routine in Israel. Everybody is supposed to carry an ID card, so for foreigners this would be a passport. Nevertheless, the constant vigilance needed so as not to lose a passport, through carelessness or theft, when carrying it around on a daily basis would be enervating, so we leave them at home. Today was only the second time that I have been asked for my passport in a non-governmental setting, the other at security at the university train station. Fortunately, Linda was at home to read me the number over the phone. If you are wondering how the clerk knew that the number I gave her was indeed my number, so was I. I think this was another example of the concept of “matzlichah” (to succeed) or the idea that there is give and take, you try to get what you want, I try to get what I want and at some point one or the other succeeds or perhaps both feel they have succeeded.

I walked through the door to blood drawing room number 1 and a woman my age, dressed in a white lab coat, followed me in with welcoming gestures. I offered my usual, “at midaberet Ivrit?” (Do you speak Hebrew?) to which she smiled and in Hebrew responded at length, concluding with, (in English) “you speak English better than me. What we need is a language that everybody can speak.” “How about music,” I asked. To this her friendly demeanor expanded with a huge smile, shaking of her head as she said, “this is what my husband says. He loves music. What kind of music do you like?”
“I enjoy classical music.”
“He also. He plays very loud.”
“There is a lot of classical music in Tel Aviv,” I added.
“Yes, there is also much other music,” she laughed, referring to the hop-hop, rap, and others that are even more foreign to me.
“Chag Sameach (Happy Holiday) and todah rabbah (thank you very much),” I said as I departed for the cashier’s desk near the main entrance. After pausing briefly in the garden--it’s a great garden--I found the cashier’s station. It took only a few minutes to pay my bill and be on my way.