Esther

I met Esther today. I got a ride into TA and walked around the Carmel Market, browsed the electronic stores in South TA and then walked to the "new" Central Bus Station. That is an experience. The place is a maze and could easily have been a bus station in Bangkok or Amman. It was packed with "Foreign Workers" and soldiers going home for the weekend. I could not for the life of me find where to board the 502 to Raanana (Aisle 609 if you need this in future) nor could I find an information booth. I actually forsook my maledom and asked four people before the ludicrously irate information booth beaut directed me to the 11:24 502 on the sixth floor.

When I finally found the correct aisle, I sat down next to the nicely dressed lady who was the only other occupant of the benches on aisle 609. I settled back for the twenty minute wait and began a people watch. Almost immediately I felt a jab in my side and my neighbor offered me half her clementina (I think it's a clementine in English, derived from the hebrew). I tried refusing, but she would not hear of it and shoved it at me till I accepted. We started talking and I found out that she had spent an hour and a half already on buses from Ashkelon as she was off to spend Shabbat with her daughters in Raanana. I learned about many pieces of her life. She has four kids, three daughters and a son. The eldest daughter is married with three. The other two girls are not married (why, she wanted to know, does no one want to get married these days). The son had a wonderful girlfriend who was a lawyer, who worshiped him and would make toastim (grilled cheese) for all the family and yet, her son, the fool, dumped her. She was sure I should know this lawyer as she also lives in Raanana. Wonderful girl. He has now married some Ashkenaziyah, who has no education and who's parents won't give them a cent (I assured her that not all Ashkenazim are misers). She made good toast, that lawyer. She grew a little sad when she told me her husband had died, many years back, aged 40, and so she was a widow at 36. She worked looking after kids every day and managed to give her four kids a decent life. She was happy to go without so they could get what they needed. With her permission, I snapped a quick picture. I wish I were a better photographer. The picture is sadly not at all good, but you get the idea.

At 11:24 the 502 bus pulled into its slot and we let the growing crowd push on before us ("Why is everyone always in such a hurry these days?" she asked). I carried her suitcase up the stairs paid my 12.50NIS, declined the seat next to her in the first row, on grounds I would have to give it up to an elder as soon as the bus filled up.

I thought long about our conversation during the hour long ride home. She is the kind of person that really build this country. She worked hard, always putting her children first. One of her kids moved to D.C. and lived there for a while. She went to visit and they begged her to stay, but living in the US was inconceivable. Nice lady. I realized I never even asked her name.

That would normally be the end of the story. This evening, I walked around the park on the way to Shabbat dinner at Ari and Denise's (Fran was cooking a belated Thanksgiving dinner). Lost in my audiobook (a bunch of short stories about food), I was not paying much attention to the numerous approaching walkers, when suddenly I recognized my friend from the central bus station, just as she recognized me. She told me she liked to go for a stroll before dinner, and here in Raanana she walks from her daughter's house lower Ahuza to the park and back. She wished me a blessed shabbat and lots of health for my family. Her name it seems, is Esther.