land of the free?

This is a very frustrated post, so please take it accordingly....

i remember some americans coming to israel and talking about how everyone is trying to screw them over in israel. how the merchants and many others try to make an extra profit on their back. and I remember them being very careful, and suspicious. to me, as a local, this sometimes seemed a little weird. i had a feeling they are being overprotective, but they assured me that this is not the case.
I am thinking about that now as I am more and more exposed to the american way of consuming, marketing and selling. all those little things that are done in order to make you buy. the intricacies of making a sale. and sale is success. and that is the ultimate goal in life. success! I am wondering if my descriptions sounds stereotypical, but then again, maybe so is reality.

I am thinking about how the expensive stuff is displayed in the shop first, and if you want something that is more in your budget, they will make you walk through all the expensive stuff first. and after you're exhausted, they might show you, "in the back", they would say in a slightly demeaning way, what you might be looking for. they did that when i bought a car, and when i bought furniture. when i got a flat, it was the exact same rational, only backwards - I was first shown the bad apartments, and only when i innocently insisted that i need someplace that is more quiet, i was "sent away" with the apartment numbers - for this the saleslady will not join me (for the shitty apartments she will).

I feel the dishonestly and basic human not-loving that it entails is much worse than my warm-tempered israel. maybe I am just missing home, but to me haggling in the carmel market (and honestly, mostly tourists do that exhaustively) feels much more benign than a furniture salesperson obsessively showing you across the store, from an expensive piece of furniture to another. and then, when you decide you'll shop around a little more, hands you a business card and asks you to come to him if you get back to the store, because he just has to make this sale, and sale is, well, you know.

So who is taking care of the little person in the united states? if this is the cradle of modern freedom and human rights, how come as a consumer I keep feeling that I am being screwed? it might be a very polite and gentle way of doing that, but it still is what it is.

is all the "service" mentality working for the better interest of the consumer or against her/him? I have a feeling americans pay for every cent of that service, and more. it just appears to be "free" and "a service", but it's actually transforms into hard earned cash.

why on earth do they have to rent out garbage cans for ads? and benches? and endless amount of signs on the street? and why the hell does the anchor woman on the radio starting to talk about products in the middle of her radio show? I feel this has completely gone out of proportion.

a friend invited me to join him in the mall. when I had arrived he was already in a clothing store. "man, only 10 bucks for this shirt, this is great", he starts counting his hard earned cash as a barman the night before, "i think i can buy five". "do you need it?", "no, but it's such a good price, i just have to get it". in the last month he also bought two sleeping bags (he doesn't camp) and an extra GPS, because they were on sale.

This is just one example of the consumer brainwashing and indoctrination that is taking place here. it is really, truly bad. The more you live here, the more you understand that the citizen, the little person, the average Joe, is not currently what this country is about. he is not the goal, the center, but he is the means, and he is expendible. The big sharks of the american game are the big companies (the corporations, or "corporate america", as it's commonly called). and they are grabbing everyone by the balls. they advertise until you can't think anymore. they make you get stuff you don't need. in case of cigarettes and coca cola, they also get you addicted to their products until you just can't help it anymore. and there is no alternative. everybody plays by these rules. at least, everyone that is big. I remember before I got my current apartment the girl working there had to make sure "that it's not a corporate apartment". to me this is just one example of how "the corporate" gets the better half of whatever it is that is being offered by society. after all, you can charge "The corporate" more money, can't you? but in my eyes it's a sickening game of evening out, because, eventually, who owns the apartment building that rents out the better apartments to "the corporate"? you got it, it is owned by a corporation.
it is hard to be an american.

Gettin' wheels

i've come to realize that the strange habbit of smiling to a stranger was not a one time occasion. people here do, apparently, just smile.
yesterday i was waiting in the traffic light and a mother and her daughter stopped next to me. they smiled, i smiled. i looked away and took another peek at them - still smiling. what are they so happy about? very suspicious, they are most probably trying to sell me something i don't need.

"think of the most despicable thing you can imagine, double it, and dip it in a bucket of sleaziness", Steven tries to describe his feelings to me. Naturally, I was thinking of a few politicians, like avishay braverman, "that's car salespeople. they are awful. they are terrible. they will sell their mother if it got them a better deal". that's pretty bad, i was thinking to myself, hoping I will be able to handle it well. I was introduced to a little guy with a funny beard. we walked around in the steaming heat looking for cars, but couldn't find anything that i'm looking for, meaning, anything that is both in good shape and not awfully expensive. "oh! i know!", the little guy screamed at some point, and rushed happily (he had a funny little way of running) to a Hyundai elantra. "this is betsy", he said.
I was looking around, wondering if I had missed some lady that was standing there, but there was no one, aside from a big hairy dude that was cleaning the windowsthe guy that waxes the windows. "betsy?", I asked him, but little guy points me to the car. "no, that's her, and she is lovely". I took a look at her, and she did indeed look pretty nice. shiny and silvery, well waxed (good job hairy guy) and ready to go.
"it's still expensive", i told him, as the price of the car was carefully written in yellow color on the windshield, "i just want something that drives and doesn't break down. but thanks for your time".
"no, wait!", you have to take a look at this, it's a good car. we can talk about the price.
"ok, let's talk about the price".
"um, let's take it for a spin".
eventually i got in the car and drove it. not bad. betsy can drive.
"how much?". let me go ask.
now starts the usual ceremony of going back and forth to the "boss" and giving me "a quote". he comes with a number. it's the absolutely best we can do.
"let me think about it"
I shop around a little, and decide that betsie is, indeed, the car for me. it wasn't love at first sight, i have to say, betsie is not as sexy as, say, a sports car, a jeep, or a mercedes (oh lord, won't you buy me a mercedez benz, as the great Joplin goes), but betsie delivers. at least for now she is.

off to the desert of opportunities

I said goodbye to my parents and then I was really alone. A quick wander around the terminal, small talk with a tourist, and a security check.

"Beware of the shiksas", warned me a fellow traveller. If you end up with one - you're gone. Your line i cut off". hmmm.
He recycles lead from car batterries and lives in Miniapolis. Surprisingly, there are 50000 more jews ovewr there. His son is in a Yeshive for the last 7 years.
"Are you happy with that?", "Delighted!", he said with pride. "I am buying him a car. Well", he comes a little closer and lowers his voice, "to his wife. She needs to have everything she needs to have, you know? It's not easy strolling around with three babies".
Almost as hard as leaving your home and going away to the middle of the desert. What the hell am I doing? But I'm killing those tohughts while still little. Don't want to let them grow much.
One thing is for sure though - as I am waiting here in the terminal, people are smiling at me. I am not quite sure why. At first I thought I put my shirt backwards again, but then realized they are just generally the smiling type of people.


I just boarded the smallest plane I've ever been on. Ok, it's not as small as you might think, but it's so small I think we are going to glide.
I just hope nobody lights a cigarette, as the paper walls might burn down in midair.
We are taking off, and so am I. The show is about to begin.