An Only in Israel Shopping Experience

An Only in Israel Shopping Experience By Suzie Schwartz

It was one Friday, a mere 3 days after our initial arrival on aliya in June, 2016. With the Sabbath almost upon us, we decided it was time for our first foray into an Israeli supermarket. I was used to the Australian supermarkets where getting hold of a trolley was a simple matter of taking (for free) the first one in the row and getting on with the job (of shopping). I didn’t imagine it would be any different in Israel. I soon discovered my assumption was wrong. Outside the supermarket, we eyed a man who was slipping his trolley into the row lined up and asked if we could take it over from him. I wondered why he was giving us such dagger looks and then I noticed he was retrieving a 10 shekel coin from the slot. A light bulb went on and we realized supermarket trolleys in Israel didn’t come for free and we needed to put down a deposit for the use of one. Except on this occasion, we hadn’t come prepared with small change. So I went inside to the customer service desk and the person behind the counter demanded that we leave our teudat zehut as collateral for the use of a green, plastic shopping basket on wheels. I looked at my identity card and thought ‘I have to hand over this in exchange for a green bucket?’ With her arm insistently stretched out, she twiddled her fingers, while waiting for me to hand it over. I had no choice but to give in and place it in her clutches.

Now, we were ready to get started on the actual shopping. With our plastic wagon in tow, it felt as though we were being put through our paces and it was beginning to resemble an obstacle course with various hurdles designed to test our manoeuvrability skills. Eventually we were ready to check out and stood in line, awaiting our turn. Processing the queue seemed to be taking longer than we anticipated so Lionel and I started chatting about our experience so far in English. There was a man, in his 40s in front of us and he must have overheard our conversation. He suddenly turned around and asked, She had her doubts about our family ties and asked him exactly what was the nature of our relationship. ‘Were we uncles, aunts, cousins?’ Then he blurted our ‘Horim’.

‘Have you got one of these?’

‘What is it?’ I asked, bending closer to have a look.

‘A discount card,’ was his reply. When we answered in the negative, he said, ‘You can use mine.’

After the cashier was done with him, we were next. As we moved closer to unpack our purchases, he proffered his card and told her to swipe it for us. She glared at him and asked in Hebrew, ‘Are they family?’ ‘Yes,’ he answered curtly. Even with my very basic Hebrew, I was able to get the gist of the conversation that ensued between them.

She had her doubts about our family ties and asked him exactly what was the nature of our relationship. ‘Were we uncles, aunts, cousins?’

Then he blurted out, ‘Horim’. Even I knew what that meant. ‘Parents!’

I looked down to hide my smile. Her look said it all, ‘I don’t believe you!’ That’s when he decided to take greater charge of the situation and made his announcement, ‘They are my parents. End of story!’ He plainly let her know that he would no longer be

messed around and she fell silent.

By now I was in a state of shock and awe. Never before, had I ever witnessed anything such as this in a supermarket. Besides I was smiling at the irony that we were this man’s parents when he was a complete stranger. He waited behind to help us pack our groceries and even assisted in carrying them some of the way. We chatted with each other while walking along together. I didn’t know why he had gone out of his way for us but I could only guess that it gave him a chance to practice his English. When it was time to part ways, we thanked him and he gave us a smile. Though we hardly knew anything about each other, for a short while we were his parents and he was our son. I suppose our encounter demonstrated a deep truth that we really were one big and sometimes dysfunctional family but nothing could sever those deep familial bonds existing between us in Klal Israel and Eretz Israel. o

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