Somebody Take My Bag

Maybe fifty of us studied at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem and as part of that studying we did three weeks of a summer semester. Our program was nice enough to provide a bus to take us to our 9 am classes five days a week, but the bus always left on time (or at least the moment the bus driver decided "on time" was) and would wait for no one. Including me.

It was maybe our third day of classes during our minimester. I had eaten a little something at breakfast, but I was still in the 'everything tastes like garbage, why am I awake' part of my morning. I got onto the bus early and as I sat down I remembered that my professor had asked our class to bring a Tanach to class. I jumped off the bus and ran into the Conservative Yeshiva (conveniently located in the front court yard of our program's base for first semester) and asked if I could borrow a Tanach for myself and a friend, just for the one day. After a bit of convincing I got the books and ran back outside; the bus was nowhere in sight.

I called my friend I was going to sit next to and asked him to make sure my bag got to class; I was mostly concerned with him saving me a seat in the class to I didn't get the crappy corner desk next to the door. I could have replaced the notebook and water bottle but the air conditioning was right above that corner seat and it was way to close to the professor to accidentally (...) fall asleep. After I hung up, I wandered back into the dining hall where I was met by a very puzzled look from my staff member. She told me to hurry or I'd miss the bus; I told her I had bigger problems, like how the hell I was supposed to get a cab to the Hebrew U.

She walked me across the street to get me a cab (again, conveniently located right across the street from where I was living) and got me a ride for 40 shkalim (about 11 bucks). Now, in Israel you can bargain with the cab driver, and if they're feeling nice, or if you catch them trying to rip you off, you can usually get a better price instead of just relying on the meter and cooperative traffic. Unfortunately, twenty days into my year I was in no position to understand anything the driver was going to say to me, and I was already in a hurry so I just sucked it up and paid for the overpriced ride. About ten minutes before class started, the cab pulled up to the Aroma across the street from the entrance to the Hebrew U. Side note: Aroma; better than Starbucks. There. I said it.

That should have been plenty of time, except that I had minor foot surgery about three weeks prior to that day, and with all the traveling I was doing, well let's just say they weren't healing according to schedule. I hobbled through security, across campus to the international school, and up to the third floor in fifteen minutes. I sat down, in the corner seat where my friend had put my bag (damn it), and luckily my professor was late. Class started a minute or two after I got there.