Misrad HaKlita Round 2
After my first visit to the Misrad HaKlita I woke up on Thursday morning filled with misgivings about the day ahead. Like The Little Engine That Could I trudged my way to the ministry muttering "I think I can" with every step. At least this time I knew which room I needed to go to and thanks to the mini lecture from Tair about how I need to be more Israeli I was ready to push and shove my way through this process. At least this time I knew where I was going.
I arrived to find the same man at the door as the last time, his effervescent smile plastered across his wrinkled face. He was so jovial I doubt I could've been angry with him over last week's mishap if I wanted to.
"Pegisha?" He said, "eeem Appointment?"
"Yes" I couldn't help but smile at his eagerness to try out one of the few English words he knew.
"Rega, mishkafayim [wait, glasses] I'm old."
I handed him my Israeli ID and pointed to my name on his list.
"Thank you mademoiselle, yes, room..." he hesitated as he held up seven fingers "sept, sentven...uhh"
"Seven" I finish for him
"Aaahhh!" he looked at his fingers "Yes Seven"
I smiled and walked inside, as I head down the hallway towards room seven, I hear him behind me,
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, seven, yes, seven".
Despite my amusing encounter with the door man the I felt the heaviness return to the pit of my stomach and by the time I took a seat outside room seven it felt like I swallowed a stone. I could hear the people in the office speaking Hebrew and I begin to worry that I'm the only idiot that came to Israel with almost no knowledge of the native language.
Finally, a lady came out and invited me to take a seat by a desk scattered with forms, paperwork and photocopies of IDs. I couldn't help wondering if my application would actually be processed or just lost in a jumbled pile of loose papers on this woman's desk. She sat down and began speaking in Hebrew.
"I'm sorry I don't speak much Hebrew" I said
"Oh! Do you speak Russian?"
"No"
She looked slightly concerned, but smiled and said that she spoke a little English; I told her that I spoke a little Hebrew and that we got through the preliminary process just fine.
After I had been sitting with her for about 15 minutes she told me that the next lady I needed to talk to (the one I accidentally saw last time) wasn't there that day. You've got to be kidding me. Suddenly I was dreading that I would have to make yet another appointment and have to take off another day from work and do this whole ridiculous thing all over again. But luck was on my side this time and someone had already tipped her off about my troubles the week before. She said that between her and the other lady who was there, they would get me taken care of today.
I finally walked out of the Misrad HaKlita with a smile on my face Teudat Oleh in hand. Now all I need to do is sign up for health insurance, enroll in Ulpan, convert my drivers licence, apply for a temporary passport, open a customs file.... oy vey.
I arrived to find the same man at the door as the last time, his effervescent smile plastered across his wrinkled face. He was so jovial I doubt I could've been angry with him over last week's mishap if I wanted to.
"Pegisha?" He said, "eeem Appointment?"
"Yes" I couldn't help but smile at his eagerness to try out one of the few English words he knew.
"Rega, mishkafayim [wait, glasses] I'm old."
I handed him my Israeli ID and pointed to my name on his list.
"Thank you mademoiselle, yes, room..." he hesitated as he held up seven fingers "sept, sentven...uhh"
"Seven" I finish for him
"Aaahhh!" he looked at his fingers "Yes Seven"
I smiled and walked inside, as I head down the hallway towards room seven, I hear him behind me,
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, seven, yes, seven".
Despite my amusing encounter with the door man the I felt the heaviness return to the pit of my stomach and by the time I took a seat outside room seven it felt like I swallowed a stone. I could hear the people in the office speaking Hebrew and I begin to worry that I'm the only idiot that came to Israel with almost no knowledge of the native language.
Finally, a lady came out and invited me to take a seat by a desk scattered with forms, paperwork and photocopies of IDs. I couldn't help wondering if my application would actually be processed or just lost in a jumbled pile of loose papers on this woman's desk. She sat down and began speaking in Hebrew.
"I'm sorry I don't speak much Hebrew" I said
"Oh! Do you speak Russian?"
"No"
She looked slightly concerned, but smiled and said that she spoke a little English; I told her that I spoke a little Hebrew and that we got through the preliminary process just fine.
After I had been sitting with her for about 15 minutes she told me that the next lady I needed to talk to (the one I accidentally saw last time) wasn't there that day. You've got to be kidding me. Suddenly I was dreading that I would have to make yet another appointment and have to take off another day from work and do this whole ridiculous thing all over again. But luck was on my side this time and someone had already tipped her off about my troubles the week before. She said that between her and the other lady who was there, they would get me taken care of today.
I finally walked out of the Misrad HaKlita with a smile on my face Teudat Oleh in hand. Now all I need to do is sign up for health insurance, enroll in Ulpan, convert my drivers licence, apply for a temporary passport, open a customs file.... oy vey.
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