Several days ago I learned that because I arrived to the program late I (naturally) had to renew my visa on my own. Since Young Judaea had done this service for every other participant it clearly didn't make sense that they would then show me the same courtesy. After being handed my passport, a form they were so generous enough to fill out for me, and the address of the Ministry of Interior in Holon they suggested I wake up early today, Tuesday morning, before my siyur that was not scheduled until 12:30pm.
Fine. No big deal. So I was a little pissed that they weren't taking care of this, and that they weren't sending me with a staff member and that they weren't even offering to reimburse me for my taxi ride but I set that aside.
As instructed I woke up around 6 this morning. Before leaving I thought it a good idea to double check online the address and hours of operation. When I arrive to their website the only office I see is the address for the one in Tel Aviv. A little more searching brings me to a listing of office hours where I notice that the Holon office is not open Tuesday mornings, only the central office in Tel Aviv. Over the course of the next 15 minutes and with the aide of google maps, a bus map and the "Dan" bus line website I finally figure out which bus I can take to this office. (Once I got off the bus at the intersection I had memorized I realized I knew exactly where I was and had actually been there several days before. But anyway...)
I eventually find the office for the Ministry of the Interior, ask for instructions from several workers before finally locating the room for visa renewal, take a number and wait. And wait. And wait another 2 hours before my number is called. I approach the desk, hand over my form and the lady tells me "את צריכה להיות בחולון. אם את גרה בבת ים את צריכה לעשות את זה בחולון" Roughly translated that means: Laura, congratulations, you're back to square one. Turns out, I can't get my visa renewed at the central office. Looking back at it now I guess that kind of makes sense but how was I supposed to know?
I got on an express bus back to Bat Yam. Once I got off I grabbed a taxi to the Holon office. If I had been in a slightly less agitated state I probably would have argued with the driver who raised the price by giving the excuse: "I thought you meant Yafo. If we're going to Holon then that's more"...except that we were already in Holon which made no sense. I can't stand taxi drivers.
I finally get to the Holon place, going through the same process as before of trying to find out where to go and such. I wait there for another hour before I was called. The actual visa renewal took no more than 5 minutes and would have been even shorter if the woman behind the counter didn't keep stopping to talk to her coworkers about what they were each bringing for their friend's birthday party.
I can now legally stay in Israel until June! And yet, my morning wasn't over. I still had to get home. I was disinclined to have to take another taxi and spend another obscene amount of money so I began to walk back the way I came in the hope that I would eventually pass a bus stop with a familiar bus line. I eventually jumped on a bus that I had recognized as being able to connect at some point with the 19, a bus that would take me right to my apartment. I finally got something right, found the stop, got on the 19 and came home in time to see that I would be missing that day's siyur.
Congratulations Israel, you have beaten the New York DMV for the title of most ludicrously inefficient bureaucracy.
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