The Trial: Chapter XV: I'm Still a Fake Doctor: Full Version
And so, enough time has passed and I have gained my composure so that I can write this entry without crying.
An Ominous Prelude
Fri 9 Nov
I attempt to withdraw cash from the ATM b.c I don't have enought to reach Petah Tikva (PT) on Sunday. After attempting five machines with four different banks, I realize that something is wrong with my card. I can't call my card or my bank b.c it is already 13:00, too late for customer service to be open on a Friday. There is no way I can resolve this before first thing Sunday morning when I need to leave. Saved: A friend loans me cash.
A second misadventure on Friday: While working out, my stupid gym accidentally breaks into the locker that is storing my bag. They meant to break someone else's lock, and are unwilling to take responsibility. "No big deal. Only 7 NIS (~$1.80)." "On whose tab?" "What?" "The 7 NIS are on my tab or yours?" "Yours, of course." Israeli customer service at its finest.
An Ominous DaySunday 11 Nov
06:30 My alarm goes off. We all know it's immoral to wake up this early on a Sunday for a work-related purpose, but I'm too tired to start swearing. A thought crosses my mind: I can call my parents. They are certainly awake at 11:30 pm on a Sat night. A counter-thought crosses my mind: I don't actually want to talk to anyone right now. I hit snooze.
08:00 I am at the bus stop trying to get to the Central Bus Station (CBS). A bus arrives shortly taking me to town where I transfer to another bus reasonably quickly. All is smooth.
08:20 Wait at the airport-style security to enter the CBS. I have enough time to buy a sandwich and wander searching for the desired platform, which is separated from all of the regular platforms.
08:40 The 400 bus toward Bnei Brak is in motion and I am on it. The ride is supposed to take 45-60 minutes, but this is rush hour and Sunday mornings have the worst traffic. I read some of my
International Herald Tribune and then decide to refresh myself with my actual dissertation. I take the bound copy out of my bag and thumb through it.
09:20 I remind the driver that I want to get off at the "Coca-Cola Intersection." He promises not to forget, but I am now too tense to read. I'm not familiar with this area and I gaze intensely out the window.
10:00 The driver lets me off. The ride was 80 minutes. This is why I left so early. My surroundings don't match the directions my roommate gave me. The Coca Cola plant is on my right, not left, and there is no underpass to cross underneath. She sketched a map for me, told me how to walk from where I am supposed to get off to my desired bus stop, and that I can board "any bus" at the new bus stop. Now that I am not in the right place, I don't know any bus numbers that I can use to ask random people for directions. No one passing by knows how I can get to PT.
Fortunately, my roommate is answering her cell phone. She did not realize that there are two stops at this intersection, one right before the underpass and one after adjoining the plant. She gives me walking directions, I backtrack, walk along an overpass, go underneath and walk along the shoulder of a highway. There is a busstop and I board the first bus that stops. I only ride three stops, but I could not have walked b.c the shoulder ends after the busstop. Whoever heard of a busstop on the shoulder of a highway??
I ask the driver for a certain intersection, he asks me for my destination, and he takes me one stop past the intersection. He turns right, going in the direction of my destination.
10:15 After alighting the bus, I walk to the stoplight and take the first left. This is the street I want, and I keep my eyes open for number 6. Walking on the left side of the street, I notice building 2. "Ahh, I am on the correct side of the street." The next building is number 5. "Hmm. I have no idea which is the correct side of the street." I am looking for the TelDor company's building. I notice on the other side of the street a car garage with "TelDor" posted outside. I also notice another tall, office-looking building in the near distance on my side of the street that says TelDor.
10:20
Me: Hello. I have an 11:00 meeting with the Ministry of Education.
Man at Desk: What are you talking about?
Me: [I start reading the letterhead.] I have an invitation here from the Government of Israel, Ministry of Education, Department of Foreign Relations and UNESCO--
Man: Ministry of Foreign Affairs [he is parroting some of my words, in English translated as State Department]? I thought you said Ministry of Education. Who signed the letter?
Me: Yigal Tsarfati. Would you like to see the letter?
Man: Oh. You need building 6 and this is building 13. Go back, pass the
yellow and the building afterwards is the one you want.
Me: What is
yellow? I don't know what that means. [Note: we are talking in Hebrew and he uses the English noun, yellow.]
Man: Pass the gas station.
[Sidebar: A colleague explained to me that Paz gas stations that have mini-mart stores are called
yellow b.c of their color scheme.]
10:30 I enter the car garage that I noticed and ignored the first time I walked past. I am re-defending my dissertation in a car garage?? I enter and a man tells me to take two right turns to get to the adjacent building. At least someone knows where I'm supposed to be going. On the same property is a permanent-looking, small structure with signs: Committees for Doctoral Degrees. I go up the stairs to the second floor and notice a conference room with a paper tablecloth, a pitcher of water with plastic cups, and a secretary. I present myself and ask for the bathroom. She wants to ask me a few questions, but permits me to use the bathroom first.
Secretary: I would like to take some of your information. You should know that your meeting today has been canceled.
Me: What??
Secretary: We attempted to contact you to verify that you were coming to the meeting. B.c we could not reach you, we did not want the professors coming in, so we canceled the meeting.
Me: I took off a day of work, spent 40 NIS (~$10.50) in transportation to get here, and I'm not leaving without approval that my degree is legitimate!!
S: We tried very hard to reach you. What is your updated contact information?
Turns out they had my cellphone wrong by one digit, could not find me through information b.c the house phone is in the landlady's name, and the Government Housing Projects (i.e., Beit Canada) did not have my updated information. Real question: Why couldn't they include their phone number on the invitation letter and ask me to contact them to verify attendance?? Why couldn't they mail a follow-up letter asking me to call them urgently or notifying me that the meeting was canceled??
It actually occurred to me the night before that I am taking a day off of work, spending money to get there, and have not spoken to a human to confirm. But, there was no contact info provided in the letter and they did not ask me to verify. Also, I was told that the professors have a full day of meetings, so they would not be coming in especially for me. Apparently, I was the only psychologist scheduled for the day.
Me: This is ridiculous! You could have avoided this whole mess by enabling me to confirm the meeting. And, why don't the professors have a full day of meetings. Why were they only coming in especially for me?
S: You are very lucky. We are dealing with a backlog since 2001. Your name should not have come up this quickly, b.c you applied only in 2005. But, many factors go into setting up the meeting. We have to find professors who are willing to chair the meetings. There are some disciplines and dissertations in which we are having trouble finding faculty members who will chair. We had a relatively easy time finding faculty for your study.
Of course I don't feel better b.c others might be suffering even more than me.
Me: This letter is deficient of valuable information, like a working phone number. It is your fault I couldn't confirm and you canceled the meeting. I want to be reimbursed for wasting my time. You have to at least pay for my transportation.
S: You came from J-m which is not remote at all. (Note: had I been traveling in a private car, it might have taken less than one hour, not 2.5.) We have candidates traveling from remote parts from all over Israel. And, we normally pay for the professors' transportations, not the candidates'.
Me: Yeah, but I bet most candidates travel only once for their meeting. Now I have to travel twice b.c of your error. If I'm expected to for my transportation, all excess travel is your responsibility.
I made her photocopy my bus receipts and had her note that there was one unpurchased bus ticket, the local bus that would take me back to the inter-city bus. And, btw, my travel costs were somewhat reduced b.c I have a buspass for local J-m rides.
The secretary was fairly soothing and diplomatic. She gave me the car garage company's phone numbers, upon request gave me the name of the one known participating professor who already read my dissertation. They need to find a new, second one. She explained that the meeting is scheduled to last 45 minutes, and I get asked questions about the methods, analyses, etc. Then, they make a recommendation to the Ministry of Education whether my dissertation meets the standard of an Israeli dissertation. I should get a final answer 1-2 months later from the Ministry of Education regarding the final outcome. At that point I am eligible for a retroactive payraise.
Note: This process has no practical value at this point. My current job decided on their own that my PhD was legitimate. I'm involved in this kangaroo court b.c the folks at Iriyat Y-m (City of J-m) required it. I called the HR woman from my old job asking if I would still get a retroactive payraise even though I don't work there anymore. She checked my papers and told me that they gave me the pay raise after I submitted the notarized translation of my PhD diploma. Meaning, my fomer employer obviated their initial request by requiring more expensive paperwork from me (200 NIS; $52). Hence, this process is really useless for everyone. But, after applying >2 years ago, I have to see this process through its end. Nonetheless, no pay raise for me.
I walked out of the office debating: It is not even 11:00 am yet. Maybe I should race back to J-m, go to work, and make up the lost morning hours. That way I can save my personal day for another time. But, it could take ages to get back, and then I'll just be in a foul mood.
The Day is Saved
I call a friend who lives and works in Tel Aviv. I ride a local bus for 45 minutes and we go out to lunch and catch up. After lunch, she goes back to work and gives me walking directions to the beach. In my business-style clothes with my heavy backpack (I have a bound dissertation inside), I walk along the water. It is pleasant and overcast. I leave the beach and it starts to drizzle. The second I reach the bus shelter it is pouring. Phew! My dissertation is protected and not ruined by the rain. I ride a local paratransit van to TA's CBS. I wander through what is definitely the biggest bus station in the Middle East, supposedly in the world. I find the 405 bus bus, and the driver does not want to honor my ticket that is the second half of a round trip from the 400. The 400 and 405 tickets cost the same and represent the same distance, but I should be on the 400 in order to use the balance of my round trip.
Me, pleading to the driver: I left J-m early this morning to go to a meeting. When I got there they told me the location of the meeting was changed. I traveled within the city to the new location, and now I just want to go home. Please let me go home.
She (I never had a female driver before) punches my ticket and lets me ride. If she hadn't, I would have tried to fight with the information desk, but they are even less likely to be helpful. If they had rejected my request, instead of buying a bus ticket to take me to J-m, I would have gone to the airport. Considering that I was without my passports and credit cards, leaving Israel would have been very hard.
While it has been pouring in TA, when I reach J-m I can see that the ground is still dry. Once I get home, it starts pouring in J-m. Once again, phew!
SummarySo, I got home very dry despite all of the rain I encountered. My precious book was not ruined. No violent episodes occurred, I was unharmed and not at risk for being sued for assaulting the secretary. I saw my friend and the beach. And, perhaps one day I will no longer be a fake doctor.
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