Viva La Chutzpah

I was privileged to have a car this week in Israel. The only time I ever had a car in Jerusalem when I lived here was when family or friends came to see me and we’d rent one to go exploring. I quite enjoyed the whole driving experience this week. You have to understand drivers in Israel to truly appreciate that statement. Keep in mind that I’ve been living in Texas for the past 8 months. First allow me to go on the record. I heart Texas. I really do. Texas is great and Texans are amazing people. With that said, allow me to be brutally honest for a minute. Texans are entirely too polite on the road. It’s hazardous. Letting everyone and their dog into their lane. Driving slow in the fast lane (don’t even get me started...I’ll blow a gasket). So imagine my relief when I get to Israel and start driving with crazy people. I love it. The rules of the road here are basically “may the best man win.” And I have to say I did quite well for myself. It did take me longer than I’d have liked to utilize the horn as frequently as I should/could have. And at least once I couldn’t help myself...a car was trying to back out on a busy street and I stopped to let her in. She was clueless, poor thing. But for the most part, I did ok. I ignored traffic signs when it was convenient. I did u-turns in the middle of the road when necessary. When other drivers honked at me, I gave them the old hand motions that are really not translatable but the general idea is to shrug your shoulders and gesture with your hands as if to say “what are you getting all up in my face for?!”. Ahhh...yes...I love it. And the crown jewel of my driving experience. I took on an Egged bus and I won. No lie. Came to an intersection with another car and an Egged bus....it was the three of us and someone was going to be aggressive and muscle their way through first. I have a few brain cells and they usually tell me not to try to take on a bus. But the Israeli in me couldn’t be stopped. I powered through, talking to the other two vehicles as I went. They lost. I won. Good times. Now I’m just wondering how much my blood pressure will go up when I get back to Texas and have to drive slowly and politely again. Sad times.

And while I’m talking about aggression, allow me to pat myself on the back about another thing. Three years of living in America has not hampered my Israeli chutzpah. The other day I stopped at a store to get some water. The check out counter was complete balagan (a mess). People (and their items) everywhere. Nothing was really getting done (other than a lot of noise and confusion) so with the American in me protesting about the rudeness, the Israeli in me powered my way through to the front and boldly set the water bottle right in front of the cashier’s face. The beauty of it is that nobody missed a beat. I paid for my water and left the store feeling both happy that I can step right back into the culture here and love every minute of it, and also a little sad that I found it so easy to be rude and ditch the non-line that was all up against the counter. But when in Rome, hey?