Another line fracas

I just went grocery shopping and I don't know whether to be proud of myself or ashamed. You see, I've learned how to be more assertive here in Israel and today I made use of that education. I've explained in earlier entries that waiting in lines follows the, "survival of the fittest" rule here in Israel. I am not one to try and push past another, but most assuredly I will not be pushed upon either.I don't know into which category today's grocery store experience fits.

It was actually a quiet evening and few shoppers filled my local Mega grocery store. I grabbed a basket, foregoing the cart to make sure I get just the few things that I need. As usual, it was a mistake. My basket became very heavy with a 2 litter bottle of orange juice and some other heavy items.   I came to the check-out line for 20 items or less. Even though the majority of people here see that sign as a suggestion rather than a rule, I was pretty sure I was in no danger of violating the law of the line. 

There was one man in font of me, but the last of his items were being scanned and he was getting out his wallet to pay. I glanced down at a basket full of food sitting on the floor. I surveyed the area to see if there was a person nearby to whom the basket belonged. I consider this almost obsessively thoughtful according to what is acceptable in the push and shove of Israeli lines. Not seeing anyone, and having a heavy basket in hand and an open conveyor belt in front of me, I stepped passed the lone basket and began emptying my items onto the belt.

By the time my goodies were on the belt and the cashier was beginning to make eye contact with me to ask for my membership card, a lady appeared and gave me a glare that let me know I had deeply offended her sense of justice.   She asked in broken Hebrew if I had "passed" her. Hearing her obvious American accent I answered in English and explained that no one was here and therefore I could not have "passed" anyone. What did she expect at that point anyway? The cashier smiled and continued checking my items. The lady behind me said in a low but superior voice that she was there just minutes ago. I shrugged my shoulders and began packing my bags, as I thought in my head all the things I could say to put her in her proper place but of course said nothing.

Now to be honest, I think that even if I had been living in the US, I would not have waited at an open checkout line for a self-centered someone who is running around to find a last minute item expecting everyone else, including the cashier to wait on her. But here in Israel, the notion is preposterous. It isn't even a question, it's a joke.

Two thoughts came into my mind. First, I thought where is this lady from and when did she stumble off the plane? The second, was the extreme difference in the way Americans and Israelis argue. Both the American woman behind me, and myself made our points with subtle body language and few words quietly, yet pointedly spoken. Our stiffened posture and occasional piercing glances conveyed how miffed we were at one another. Had we been true Israelis there would have probably been a moment of raised voices and expressive hand gestures. Israelis seem to be able to state their points bluntly and somehow end up better friends for it.  

In fact, had the person behind me been Israeli, he would have respected me more because I didn't let him walk over me. Once, while I was shopping in Jerusalem, I decided to move from the back of one line to the back of another line that seemed to be moving faster. I was not the only one to notice and soon the man who had been in front of me in the other line jumped to my new line.

He tapped my shoulder and tried to tell me that he was in front of me. I was a little shocked and needed a few second to answer, which felt more like a minute as I tried to shift through the logic in my head. After coming to the conclusion that this man was completely out of line (pun intended), I looked him straight in the eye and said, "ha! in that line, but now you're behind me." He smiles and laughed a little. I guess you can't blame him for trying.

I may be obviously western but I am becoming less naive to the realities of life in Israel.   The poor woman behind me in the grocery store needs a few lessons of her own and I wouldn't mind witnessing a few of them. She seems like a first-class traveler who is having a shocking time not having the red carpet status on the ground here in Israel. She will have to learn soon enough that on the streets and in the stores of Israel, there is no first-class line - just one line and you better not leave an empty space. 

Still, I can't decide if to celebrate my boldness or do penitence for my brass behevior. This coming into your own in a diffirent culture can be complicated. I don't know, what do you say?