The KGB and The Mosad

I have inside information that leads me to believe that the staff in Bank Hapoalim are trained in the secret Mosad Agents Programme TSANMECWAWEB. Otherwise known as 'The Strategic Art of Not Making Eye Contact with Anyone Who Enters the Building'. I am certain it's a compulsory state run course for all staff of all Israeli banks though I personally have not had the pleasure. And yet, once you break through the code, once you get through the (Israeli developed) 'concrete glass' wall that separates the 'server' from the 'served', suddenly and without warning, like a 'sleeper' a hidden consciousness is awoken, eye contact is made, service is given(albeit reluctantly) and even recipes have been known to switch hands.

It's the same with the staff at Macabbi Health, but in their case the training I believe is stricktly KGB. Last week I had the great pleasure of visiting the Kippat Hulim (Government Health Centre) in Pardes Chanah for the first time. My regular, South African born, English speaking, warm, intelligent, human family doctor in Zichron was unavailable and I needed to see someone urgently, so I thought I'd try my luck at the government health service in Pardes Chanah.

To my advantage it became immediately apparent that the KGB not only train their staff in 'the strategic art of not making eye contact with anyone when enters the building' but also in foreign tongues, as well as in the masterful art of 'confusing the enemy'. I entered the building and found my way to the front desk where a woman was staring intently at her monitor, trying her hardest not to notice my human form. After ten minutes of my own personal meditation in 'savlanut (patience...not to be confused with sagvaniot, doughnuts) she weakened and against her better wishes she turned her head towards me and looked up.

'Aha, I've got her now', I thought and not wanting to miss the opportunity I quickly asked if she spoke English, as I always do when approaching an unknown species. 'Yes' she said, 'I do'. This always gets them, these KGB trained Israelis. This is their weakness; an opportunity to practice their English, the language of the 'great yonder'.

She soon realised this was my first visit to a government health service centre and she proceeded to educate me on the long list of medical specialists and practitioners that were available to me, clarifying at the end that today none of them were available, 'except Dr Iliad, who is in today', she said. She then pointed me towards a phone down the end of a long corridor and gave me the secret code. I was to call this number and make an appointment with Dr. Ilaid who, she assured me was in today. Always one to follow instructions I went to the phone and waited for the dome of silence to close over my head. I made the call.

'For the English menu press four' said a voice and I did. 'Efshar l'daber b'Englit?' I asked (Is it possible to speak in English?) 'Shniya' said the voice in Tel Aviv. 'The English menu', means just that and that alone. She put me through to a different voice and I repeated my question. He put me through to a different voice and I repeated my question and then she put me through to a different voice and I repeated my question. By this time, my Ulpan teacher was starting to scream in my brain and I blurted out my simplest Hebrew 'I am in Pardes Chanah at the Macabbi Kipat Chulim and I want to make a meeting with Dr.Illaid for this morning. Please. '

'No, Dr. Iliad is not in Pardes Chanah today' the women said. 'Yes he is' I said' 'I am here, now, and he is in today'. 'No he's not', she said 'but I have made an appointment with you at the other Macabbi Centre in Pardes Chanah with Dr.Pizat at ten to eleven'. OK I said politely, not wanting to sabotage my chances of seeing someone. I walked back towards the desk and mustering up all the anger of a frustrated women with a possible bladder infection and thrush I explained that the KGB were adamant that Dr Ilaid was not in today and explained that they were sending me into enemy territory and as it was I could barely stand never mind walk the five blocks across town to the other Macabbi Centre. I asked if she could please take pity on me, being from a neutral country like Australia, and make an appointment from HER computer with the doctor who was or was not in.

So she swivelled her chair across to the 'other computer' (do you see the problem here?) and she booked me an appointment with Dr. Iliad for ten thirty.

At eleven thirty exactly I went in to see the esteemed Dr. Iliad. My first mistake was to ask him if he was Russian. 'No' he said, giving nothing away, 'I'm Israeli'. That's what Israeli's say when they don’t want to tell you their parents are from Uzbekistan. 'This place is like socialist Russia' I said. He didn't agree. He smiled happily like he had just had great sex with the woman he had seen before me for some forty five minutes.

'What are your symptoms?' he asked. 'I have a UTI' I explained.
'That's a diagnosis' he said, ' what are your symptoms?'
I decided it was time to come clean.
'I have no real symptoms I said, I am actually an undercover agent from the Department of Frustration and Anger Development, pretending to writhe in pain and not understand what anyone is saying, just here to check that you and your staff are doing their jobs properly.'
'No further training is required.'
He looked pleased