Leaving Israel

On our last night in Tel Aviv, we had a wonderful dinner and began reflecting on what we saw and what it meant. As we stepped toward our bus, the sirens went off. And we swiftly moved to the shelters.

Israelis now measure distance in the time it takes a rocket from Gaza to reach a destination. On this trip, our distance was between 20 and 90 seconds. Tel Aviv is 90 seconds away.    But as I looked southward, I saw the flash of the Iron Dome taking out a rocket. I didn’t wait to see a second one. We were fine. But to say the least, it is an odd experience. I guess this is something that Israelis never get fully used to but learn to live with.

We entered Ben Gurion airport and were escorted to a particular security check-in. This esteemed bunch of American Rabbis were to be treated as VIPS. And the sirens went off. And swiftly, we went into the shelters, just like everyone else. The moment passed, and we all emerged, but Ben Gurion didn’t return to normal. Security and travelers engaged in the typical dance that is done at departure. But this time, it seemed different.   I felt discomfort. The airport routine wasn’t quite the same. The dance was off by a beat. The process seemed longer, as though the thorough checking still needed double-checking. The ramp leading to the departure area was lined with pictures of hostages, just like the ramp on the arrival side. The message was to remember the hostages from the first moment you entered Israel and as the last thing as you left.

The airport was empty; El Al and Emirates were flying. One or two other airlines were on the board, but the major carriers were not listed, and half of the departure floor was empty.

We left a different place than the one I remembered from previous travels, and yet the emotional and spiritual connection remain strong, perhaps stronger.

 

 

Every Leaving Always Late

Modesty and a seat too far

seating chart The current seating spat aboard El Al planes reminds me of seating elsewhere in the Jewish world. When planning the wedding, the seating chart seems to rank as important as the Chuppah. Aunt Sophie wont sit with Uncle Benny who would be upset if he didn’t sit next to cousin Terri who is rooming with Sophie’s daughter. The brouhaha about certain men refusing to travel next to a female other than his wife on a plane seems easy enough to overcome long before there is a confrontation on the airplane. This on board argument helps reinforce the old expression that EL AL was an acronym for “Every Leaving Always Late” and is an unfortunate commentary on our ability to get along.

 This is an issue for the men in question, not the rest of the passengers. The easiest solution is for men who have this need to be required to buy the seat(s) adjacent, if other El_Al_Boeing_777-200such observant men do not also book seats. Preflight booking can ask if this seating issue exists. If the yes box is checked, then a new level of scrutiny is developed. If the box is not checked, there is not consideration. The seating chart can be developed using computer algorithms. Alternatively, sections can be set aside for the observant. If seats are not available, the section can be expanded or the plane listed as sold-out for that section.  Maybe business class could be reserved for all women who find they are bearing the brunt of this bad treatment. Maybe we do a first come first served approach. The balagan that is the El Al boarding process would look much the same as it does now.

 There seem to be a multiplicity of solutions available long before boarding takes place. For a land touted as among the technology centers, this problem seems far from daunting.  To create an argument on the plane or make some passengers feel unwelcome seems to be the worst possible alternative.  My guess if that if the airline were held accountable, a workable solution would be quickly found. Maybe the pending lawsuit is the needed catalyst.

Nisiyah Tovah!