El Israel Al Delta March 10, 2009

I’m back in Israel.

After two and a half weeks of a great time in New York, I came back to my stuffy room in Jerusalem. Is my visit really over? It made me sad to see my room here in the state it was the day I was so excited to leave for New York, the moment the Nesher sherut came too early and I had to leave the room a bit messy.

The stay in New York was filled with many emotional ups and downs, but lots of fun. Within a few days, I felt I had never left, but of course I still felt different. I was in New York with no job, no apartment of my own. I lived out of bags, and never felt fully comfortable because of it. However, I saw friends, ate great food (with a newly ripped-at-the-crotch pair of jeans to prove it), same a couple of museum shows, and watched some movies. Yeah, New York’s not too bad.

One of the first things I noticed as soon as I got off the plane is that after being in Jerusalem for so long, New Yorkers all looked like Abercrombie and Fitch models- Swedish edition. Their clothes were made of fine, well cut fabrics and their boots were not platform. Most of the adults walked without children in tow! I felt frumpy at times.

I had a couple of celebrity sightings- Steve Buschemi (I like to convince myself that he followed me to my train transfer), and the plus size model winner of a recent season of America’s Next Top Model- can’t bother to look up her name, even on my fast-speed new Mac. Yes, I also bought a new Mac laptop, and now I feel I need to upgrade my lifestyle to match my trendy operating system.

On my last night there, I gathered some friends at The Magician on the Lower East Side and had a proper farewell.

The next day I savored the bizarrely warm day with Eli by eating at Veselka, took in the crazy vibe the city gets during the first warm days, and eventually made my way back to Jill’s, where I crammed all my crap into one bag, ran to eat two last slices of pizza (one plain, one chicken and broccoli- something I normally don’t order but can’t get in Israel, so I went for it) with her and my sister, and hopped in a cab a bit after 7, worried that I was running late for my 10pm flight. I was at the gate to my Delta flight by 7:45. Never have I gone through the airport so quickly. Part of the reason was because it was a Saturday night flight, so most of the people on the flight, the religious ones, came last minute, after finishing up their Shabbat. The flight took off late because someone decided not to get on at the last minute, and the luggage crew spent 30 minutes retrieving his luggage.

When I first boarded the plane, it was blissful. Quiet. The seat next to me remained empty as the rest of the plane filled and part of me hoped the passenger wouldn’t show. I even sat my stuffed dog, Dubs, on the empty seat. Then the religious people came on board, and with them screaming babies. A group of religious women walked toward the back of the plane, rolling luggage that was barely carry-on friendly. By then, most of the overhead bins were full. One of the women asked an older grouchy looking man wearing a yarmulke behind me, “Excuse me, would you mind moving your bag?” “Yes, I do mind,” he replied curtly. “Well, ok,” and said, hesitantly. Just then, a remarkably attractive and very gay flight attendant walked over and asked what the problem was. The woman said, “There is no room and the man here says he is unwilling to move his bag.” The flight attendant offered to move the man’s bag for him, but the man just said, “Your bags are too big, I don’t understand why you didn’t check them in!” The women ignored him and the flight attendant still moved the man’s bag and assured him by saying, “Look, mister, I’m moving it right here!” and found space for all of the rest of their stuff too. Ah, is there anything a gay flight attendant can’t do? (I always get excited when I get a gay flight attendant, they are generally so much nicer and more helpful than their female counterparts. Sorry.) Then the older guy stood up, and to no one in particular, blurted, “This is why I stopped using El Al, and now look.” By “this,” he clearly meant the religious women, and they clearly knew it. They looked at him uncomfortably, said nothing, and he plopped himself back down in his seat, and remained quiet.

But.. but.. I was confused. What did he really mean by “this?” Loud families, usually religious? Then just take a flight on Shabbat, which he probably didn’t do because he observes it himself. But these women didn’t bring kids on board. They just had lots of luggage. I hate El Al because I’m still waiting on a refund months after I cancelled a flight with them, but what was his beef?

Anyway, the noise levels continued to rise. I got a call from my mom soon before the plane took off. She was nervous and sad about my leaving again. She showed it by saying, “What airline company are you using?” “Delta.” “Delta? Why would you take Delta?! Everyone uses El Al! Who uses Delta for Israel! Oyyy!” As if the plane would instantly go up in flames en route to Tel Aviv if it were not part of the national Israeli airline. As if terrorists eye non-El Al flights on Kayak and rub their hands gleefully at the prospects of possibly (but probably not really) lower security levels.

The flight was almost full. The seat next to me was still empty. I eyed the remaining people coming in, gauging their gender and religious levels. Religious men- sigh of relief. They must be sitting next to other men. Religious woman with baby, oh no, please, keep moving….. sigh of relief. Freedom to stretch was almost mine! But at the last minute, a young Ortho guy walked up to the seat, and I thought, “This can’t be.” I barely moved Dubs out of the seat before he dropped a few crumpled plastic bags onto the seat next to me. He didn’t look at me as he crammed the bags in the overhead bin and placed a carry-on suitcase in the leg area in front of his seat. An older man stood next to him, asked if he would be alright, and then walked away as the guy maneuvered his skinny legs around the suitcase and sat down and looked straight ahead. For a while, he read a prayer book, but mostly stared ahead.

Ok, maybe religious Jews do sit next to people of other sexes when they have to, but I just never noticed a precedence for it on a plane. It didn’t happen on buses in Jerusalem, except for that one time I was frotteurized by a religious guy who did sit next to me, but I guess planes provide fewer options- you can’t stand!

The flight attendants were becoming agitated and rude, as they are wont to do on Delta. Even before take-off,  a female one with copper skin, yellow hair, and a look that said she would run you over with her SUV if she could, walked down the aisle waving a crumpled plastic bag, “Someone left this near the bathroom! WHO left this near the bathroom?” she threatened, as if it was the most absurd thing that could have happened. One religious guy spoke up and said it was his bag, but after inspection, it turned out it wasn’t, and the attendant walked away and voiced “Jesus Christ” between her teeth.

I partly didn’t blame them for being agitated. Full flight, oh so many demands and babies. I find nothing glamorous about being a flight attendant, except for those great travel discounts. I did feel that the moment they wheeled the beverage carts down the aisle, someone was hovering behind them, asking them to move, as if they could squeeze the cart to the side. That was really annoying. I’d lose it within a day. At one point, even the gay flight attendant lost it and told a passenger who was practically his shadow, “Step back, sir.”

I guess the Ortho guy didn’t have time to order a kosher meal, so when he heard someone give theirs up, he very politely asked for it and the SUV attendant ordered him to wait until the end to see if any were left. Later on, the gay attendant walked down the aisle holding a tray, announcing, “Kosher meal, kosher meal!” My neighbor again politely stopped him and asked, “Is it left over?” The attendant replied simply, “It’s kosherrrr” and threw it on his lap. The neighbor then ate the cake, then the salad, and some of the main dish which I could not recognize.

By then, I drank some wine, swallowed a special pill, and even though I tossed and turned constantly, I woke up with two hours left on the plane. The neighbor slept sitting straight up, with a blindfold on. God know what I did in my inebriated state. I probably kicked him, drooled on him, anything is possible.

We arrived in Israel. I got on the sherut to Jerusalem, another surreal experience I can’t go into now because I’m jetlagged and running on 3 hours sleep and I think I’m quite possibly delirious, which is the reason I will give for writing such a long post about a flight.

I’ll end by saying this- The Russian is gone! She moved out while I was away. Sorry to all who will miss her character, but I’m sure I’ll find others to replace her without having them live close enough to ruin my home life! It has been so quiet. So niiiiceeee.. so why can’t I sleep, even though it’s past 1am and I need to get up in 6 hours?!

EDIT: Ok maybe this is what’s wrong with El Al.