Sorry I'm Late, Someone Forgot Their Briefcase at the Busstop

Living in DC the last two years primed me with its “See something, Say something” campaign, to be aware of any unattended bags in public places. I reported one in the fall that I noticed in the old city in Jerusalem, and a few months ago, spotted and called attention to one on a bus in Haifa. Both of them seemed not to concern locals, so I’m not sure what the “look” of a suspicious object is. I saw one yesterday, but didn’t get a good look at it.

I was sitting in a café, about to go meet up with some other Fulbrighters to go see “Not By Bread Alone” in Tel Aviv (I’ll tell you about that next), and just before asking for my Heshbon, noticed a small group of people on the sidewalk outside with a police officer amongst them. I am so used to seeing military uniforms on a daily basis that I had not realized how rarely I see a police uniform. It struck me that hers looked very similar in color and manner to those I’m used to seeing in the states. I wondered if there had been a car accident that I hadn’t heard. I finished up my work and asked for the bill. As I was counting out the money, the officer came into the café, spoke briefly with the employees, and then left. I didn’t catch a word she said. I put down my money, gathered my things, and went on my way. When I saw that they were blocking off the road I was on, and a small crowd had gathered before me looking behind me, my immediate thought was that it must have been a pretty serious car accident, which was surprising as that road, while being large, does not usually have very high speeds on it. I looked behind me and saw several police vehicles, but no crash. Then I realized the police were surrounding a bus stop. Ahhh, yes.

I knew that the bus I was about to go catch would be down this road, blocked by the police, so I decided to put off going to the stop, and instead pulled out my camera and joined the crowd. I couldn’t see much (since they were wisely keeping us pretty far away), but I did see an officer in full protective garb come from across the street and attach two ropes to the object and then scuttle away.

They sent one of the yellow-vested people (I’m not sure if these are military officers of some sort? They also helped us evacuate when the fire happened on Mt. Carmel. They seem to just carry their yellow vests around and when needed, transform into emergency personnel. :)) Anyway, one of these was sent to evacuate the other people still in the café where I’d been sitting, and once everyone was clear, they used the ropes that were attached to the, was it a briefcase?, to shake it up and down and up and down, about 6 feet above the ground, and dropping it, for quite some time. It did not explode on its own, but apparently still met the “suspicious” criteria. (For those of you who do not read the news, a bomb exploded in Jerusalem at a bus stop a couple weeks ago even as someone was on the phone reporting the suspicious object, so of course I was thinking about that as soon as I figured out what was going on...)

So, another officer in full protective gear went over and did something to it with two white squares of something, and then ran away across the street. A few minutes later there was a loud pop, a gust of smoke, they cleaned it up, and we all went on our way.

I had called my friends I was meeting to let them know I’d be late, and we agree to meet in Horev center (where I was planning to catch the bus), and go from there.

While I waited I saw three teenage boys looking down at something on the ground. Moving over a little I saw that it was a big white dog on her side (Probably a husky mix). I could see she was breathing, but not moving in any other way. The boys were clearly trying to decide if something should be done. They were making noises to her to see if she would come to them, to no avail. Then she wagged her tail, and brushed her face with her paw. They seemed satisfied and left. Having watched my own dog die nine months ago (wow, has it really been that long?), I didn’t like the thought of seeing this one go, too, but of course I couldn’t just leave.

I went over to her, but then considered the fact that I had no idea who I could call, or how to explain why I was calling. And I have noticed that human relations to dogs here are drastically different from those at home. Some people in the USA say that they treat their pets like people, but they really treat their dogs like dogs...or babies. But here I have actually seen the concept of treating dogs like people played out. I regularly see dogs, well fed and well groomed, wearing collars and tags, taking themselves on walks along the sidewalk, alone. For the most part, they obey the traffic signals and stay out of the street. For the most part, people acknowledge them to the same extent they acknowledge me. The dogs follow suit, ignoring us just as much as we ignore them.

Now, of course, I am not well practiced at ignoring any dog – nor human, for that matter. When I smile at a stranger on the street, often they smile back, if a little unwillingly, and on occasion they give me a look like, “Um. Do I know you?”, and sometimes they blink and look straight through me. I am quite used to the various responses. What I was unprepared for when moving here was that the dogs here are quite like their humans. When I used to see a dog, my first response was to speak to it in happy child voice, “Hi. Do you want to be my friend?” I would ask them, and bend down a bit to offer my hand. In the states, dogs will answer with myriad of answers, from a Golden-Retriever “Oh goody! Yes!”, to a German-Shepherd “Why, yes, that is acceptable.”, to a Border-Collie “Eeek, stay away!”. Whatever the answer, tail up or down, shying away, running away, or happily slobbering all over my outstretched hand, I am used to pretty much all responses. What I am not used to is the Israeli dog response. Most often they also look right through me, or turn to sniff a rock. I’ve come to treat them like humans, too. I smile at them, and then accept whatever response or non-response they chose to give. (I did make friend with a neighborhood lab, who I call “Buddy” because he’s my buddy. But without proper introduction, most dogs aren’t interested in being friends unless I’m carrying food.)

My friend who tutored me last year in Israeli Sign Language and Hebrew told me quite a lot about Israeli culture before I came. One of the things he told me is, “They are not very friendly, but they are extremely kind. People won’t smile at you on the street, but if you trip on a crack, you’ll have four Israeli’s catch you and set you upright before you hit the ground. But they won’t smile at you.” I laughed at his description at the time, and now when something like that does happen to me, I can’t help but laugh again. But this time, as I thought of my own dog and the family of this dog, and struggled with not knowing what to do, rather than being funny, it was heart-warming and relieving to see the kindness that people exhibited toward this four-legged stranger.

I had moved away from the dog after she had raised her head, looked around, and laid back down. She seemed to be just taking a nap in a location that was a little alarming to us, so I walked across the street to where I would be meeting my friends, but kept an eye on her to see what might happen. I was so happy to see that almost every person that walked by her, not only looked at her in curiosity, like I would expect in the states, but actually stopped, bent down, watched her for a bit, obviously seriously considered the situation, and looked around at others, sometimes discussing her, before moving on. Apparently the continued interruption of her nap was not conducive to the rest she had in mind, because after about six or seven people checked on her, the dog got up, shook herself awake, sat looking around for a bit, and then head on her way. Go figure. I was so happy to see that, while "we" ignore dogs here if they seem to be behaving normally, we are concerned if one looks ill, and will take action to help if needed.

My friends arrived and we drove down to Old Yafo for dinner at Cafe Kapish, and NaLaga'at's production of "Not By Bread Alone".