Aliyah memories: Walter Mitty edition

Helloooo, Our Shiputzim fans.

Back in this post, I listed some tips for dealing with Israeli bureaucracy. The first one was:

“Always bring all your documents with you – the more obscure and seemingly irrelevant the better.”

Actually, YZG (aka “Mr. S.”) was the one who suggested that we always follow this rule, and about half a year after our aliyah, he was more than vindicated.

On a trip to a certain office, YZG – as usual – lugged our big, fat file folder stuffed with various and sundry papers and documents. To YZG’s great joy, the clerk there demanded a number of rather odd papers, and so Walter Mitty-like, YZG got to pretend that he was Clint Eastwood.

Now, I wasn’t there, but based on YZG’s description, I assume that the scene played out as follows*:

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{YZG arrives in a certain governmental office, and after a brief wait, his turn arrives. He sits down in the chair in front of the Clerk’s desk.}

Clerk: {Doesn’t even look up} You’re going to need to come back.

YZG: {Startled} Huh? Why?

C: Because I need some papers which I’m sure you don’t have.

YZG: {Secretly very pleased but tries to act and sound grim and determined} Go ahead. Make. My. Day.

C: {Misses the reference and so doesn’t yet realize that YZG is not your typical bespectacled new oleh} Well, I need a list of your exits and entries to and from Israel.

YZG: {Yawns ostentatiously as he hands over the paper} Please. Don’t insult me.

C: {Raises an eyebrow, as a flicker of interest flashes across her face} Okay, then I need a certificate from the army that says that-

YZG: {Gives her the paper before she completes her sentence and somehow manages to avoid looking smug or self-satisfied} You mean this?

{The Clerk finally understands that she’s facing a worthy adversary, as the camera zooms in on the look of steely resolve in YZG’s eyes. That twangy, western music from that Clint Eastwood movie – what’s it called? – plays in the background. The climactic showdown is about to begin.}

C: {Measures her words carefully, because everything is riding on this} Please give me your parents’ US passport from thirty years ago…

{The Clerk thinks that she smells victory. After all, there’s absolutely no way that YZG could possibly have such a random document…. Or could he???}

YZG: {With quiet dignity} Here it is. {He hands her the passport.}

{Stunned, the Clerk quickly finishes processing YZG’s papers, and speechless, she watches as he heads off into the sunset, with the slightest hint of a well-deserved swagger in his step.}

{Cue: Final credits.}

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* Okay, fine. I admit that I may have taken some artistic liberties with the dialogue; and there probably wasn’t any mood–setting music (or any music at all, for that matter); and there’s a slight chance that the clerk was completely oblivious to all the drama. But I think you get the general idea. And in my defense, the clerk really did request those exact three documents – yes, including the 30 year old passport! – and YZG had them all!)