All right, it’s time for me to reprise my personalized favorite tale of the Wintertime time.
It was 1973 and I was a first-year grad student at Tel Aviv College. I entered Israel on a tourist visa, and the Yom Kippur War made a bit of a mess of my various lawful position papers. I experienced to get some kind of U.S. documentation that would allow me to convert my tourist visa to university student status. Acquiring now volunteered for the IDF I could have just declared Israeli citizenship, but then there would have been other complications…
Tel Aviv College is not really in Tel Aviv–it is in a suburb called Ramat Aviv, and it can consider awhile by bus to get from campus to wherever in the rest of the city. I waited for a superior time to agenda the excursion and then 1 sunny winter season morning, I set out. I took the bus from Ramat Aviv to the Central Bus Station in Tel Aviv, and then a different up the Mediterranean coastline which stopped just a number of blocks from the American Consulate.
Now, I had been wanting forward to this excursion for some time mainly because it was properly acknowledged that the American consulate had a cafeteria open to U.S. citizens which served the very best hamburgers in Israel. These days that’s no for a longer period true–Israel has turned into rather the foodie haven and there are heaps of places to get great hamburgers. But not in 1973.
Following my hour-extended journey I trudged up the couple of actions of the porch of the Consulate and tugged on the doorway. It was locked! A indication was posted that announced, “Merry Christmas.” Remaining in Israel, I experienced overlooked what December 25 might indicate to a U.S. Consulate!
Oh perfectly, I had to satisfy my hunger with a properly exceptional felafel sandwich and start out the hour-very long journey again to Ramat Aviv. My visa–and hamburger–would have to hold out for one more working day.