From Nation's Capital to Nation's Capital: The Azza Street Spy

Moving from Governmet Housing to Private, Market-Value Housing
So, the move is complete! I am now the proud renter of an overpriced apartment in a very trendy neighborhood!

Some highlights from my move:

I was told the moving truck was ordered for 3 pm and I should be at the entrance to the Section 8 housing at 2:45. FYI, the moving truck is at no cost to residents; a service offered by the government to Section 8 residents. At 2 pm I get a phone call asking if I can bring my stuff down sooner b.c the movers already arrived. Apparently, the truck was ordered for late morning by another Beit Canada resident; the movers wanted to pack the truck with each of our things rather than moving us individually and having to return in the middle. I was basically ready, so I said I would start bringing my stuff down. But, if they're here can't they help me bring it down? Apparently not.

One friend was helping me pack up the last stuff and a second friend borrowed the super's dolly to bring down my boxes. As I bring down some of the wheely-duffel bags a thought occurs to me:

If they are here and not helping me bring my stuff down to the truck, are they going to help me bring the stuff up from the truck to my new apartment??

Excerpts from our conversation:

Me: Are you going to help me bring my stuff up to my new apartment? It is only on the second floor.

Senior mover among three moving men: No.

Me: Really? Then what are you going to do with my stuff?

Moving man: We leave it on the curb near your building.

Me: Oh. But, why won't you help me move?

MM: The Jewish Agency only pays us to move your possessions, not to bring them to or from the truck.

Me: Well, can I pay you to move my stuff into the apartment?

MM: No. We are on a schedule and have to get to another job.

Me: Oh.

Next thought balloon: The truck is being loaded with the possessions of two individuals and the cab of the truck will fit only the three movers. I can't catch a ride with these guys.

Me: So I guess I'm on my own for getting to the apartment, too.

MM: Yes.

Me: Well, the apartment is pretty close to here. You are driving directly and are likely to get there first, what are you going to do? Abandon my possessions on the street like suspicious objects (~hafetz hashud)?

MM: We are going to the morning moving guy first, so you should be able to reach your apartment before we get there.

Concluding thoughts: While I have no furniture and my stuff is relatively minimalist compared to what most people own, I really can't manage this on my own. I had 4 suitcases and a variety of boxes, including a large, heavy toaster oven. Also, I need to get my tush in gear: the movers can drive in 15 minutes from Section 8 to my new 'hood, and I can stand at the busstip waiting 15 minutes for the bus to show.

When I return with more suitcases, Senior Moving Man tells me that Junior Moving Man is available to bring my suitcases and boxes into my apartment. The asking price? 100 NIS (~$22.26). This seems reasonable considering the physical labor involved. In addition, while I could theoretically bargain, I have no leverage. I can't replace these guys or do the job on my own. If they abandon all of my worldly possessions on the curb, am I supposed to ask passersby to help me lug it up the flight of stairs? 100 NIS seems to be going rate and as the only out of pocket expense for a move is not bad at all.

I attempt to return my key to the Section 8 administration, only to be told that the person who is responsible to accept my key, the "House Mother," is wandering the building and should be back soon. The administrator, her assistant, social worker, and social coordinator were not willing to take it. I can only give it to the House Mother. I was getting nervous: the truck already left and I needed to beat them to my apartment in order to ensure that they don't do a "drop and run." I finally persuaded the administrator's assistant to take the key and then bumped into the House Mother on my way out. Sheesh, why is leaving this hard?

The move was relatively simple. My friend who helped with the last of the packing came with me and we reached the apartment about 10 minutes before the movers did. The men came and the Junior Moving Man stayed behind. He loaded the boxes on his back, stacking them like he was carrying a refridgerator. One flight and no elevator, which was probably easier for him. Once he had good grip, he was sailing smoothly; an elevator involves additional loading and unloading. He carried my duffle bags like backpacks. He did the whole thing within a half-hour. I could have managed it in under two hours, but would definitely be sore the next day... When I paid him, I noted that this was probably his easiest job. He said he wished work would be this simple every day.

I moved into one of three bedrooms, replacing a roommate who moved out in the middle of Pesach. She technically did leave in the middle of the night, departing at 5 am from the airport, most likely leaving for the airport around 1:30 am. She seemed to have left like she was leaving Egypt, in a total rush in the middle of the night like a bandit w.o enough time to let the dough rise. She did not clean up at all; the trashcan was overflowing; items were strewn on the floor; I have a hard time believing she swept in the last 6 months, etc. The sheets were still on the bed with obvious crumbs and other unidentifiable items in the folds; I found a pair of sandals under the armchair. I found other items that I will not post in a family-friendly blog. Contact me offline if you are dying to know...

I abused my friend by having her help me clean the mess and advise me on unpacking. When it was time for her to call it an afternoon, we went across the street and I treated her to pizza. There is a (kosher) pizza place directly across from my new apartment! I chatted with the worker, who was the owner's son. Apparently, according to the owner, they make the best pizza in all of Israel :) I told the owner it was my good fortunate to live across the best pizza in all of Israel. (Note: Pizza Panini is a popular joint b.c its pizza is really good.)

In addition, the pizza guys have a Neighbors' Discount. Self-proclaimed neighbors get 10% off all orders. The owner gave me their magnet so that I can conveniently place orders. However, from my bedroom window, I can see their storefront and read the phone number off of their display. Besides, I said, I can scream my order from my porch. "Regular pizza with mushrooms. Make that corn. Will you send your delivery guy to my apartment, too?" I won't tell you how many times I've eaten there since I moved in on Thursday :)

While sitting and eating pizza with my friend on the 8th day of Pesach, I spotted one of my sister's buddies from high school, then the HR woman from my job.

After some more unpacking, I left to meet Kesher buddies for dinner; we were having an Kesher Reunion for those who live in Israel and those who were visiting for Pesach. Conveniently, it took me about 30 seconds to walk out of my apartment and reach the short gate in front of the building. No 10 minute walk to reach the edge of the complex; no guard needed to buzz me out. Just like a free person living on the outside, I was able to exit!

Within two minutes is a busstop where five buses stop!! These are also pretty frequent buses. Only three were useful to me, not all five. However, a bus pulled up within two minutes. This is what happens when you live in a central location. Finally, after dinner I sat with a friend on a bench outside my apartment chatting. The parents of one of the Kindergarten kids where I work were taking a walk. We chatted briefly. So far, three spontaneous encounters in one afternoon, two of whom were totally Israeli. The next day, I bumped into two other acquaintances, each of whom I had only met during Pesach. Once again, something reasonably predictable when living in a central location.

Finally, in explanation of the new subtitle of my blog: The Azza Street Spy. Not only is my street centrally located, my front porch is the best spy location. I can sit on a couch, and watch the whole world walk by. The pizza place definitely helps my spying opportunities, as well... While I need to test out my role a bit more, this porch will enable me to rival if not exceed my heights as The Former Q St Spy.

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