It was my first full day in Israel.
To make my stay easier, I needed a local cell phone plan.
I had an appointment in Bnei Brak, so I decided to take care of it there.
That’s when things became… complicated.
At the first store, I asked for a SIM card.
The man behind the counter told me I needed to go down the street to buy one.
After walking in circles for a while, I found another shopkeeper who had what I needed.
He only accepted cash.
I paid, got the SIM card, and was told to return to the original store so they could cut it to fit my phone.
Back I went.
The man cut the SIM card and inserted it.
We were ready to activate it—except my phone battery had died.
So I took the bus home. Over an hour.
Once home, I tried to activate the phone myself, carefully following the instructions on the package.
The same error message repeated over and over.
There were many points along the way where this could have been simpler.
Coming from the U.S., I’m used to a certain kind of efficiency.
Clear steps. One place. A working system.
In Israel, the common response to frustration like this is:
“You’re not in America.”
And it’s true.
A Shift in Perspective
Americans haven’t experienced war on our own soil since the Civil War.
There is crime. There is violence.
But it is not the same as living with the ongoing threat of terror.
The day before I arrived, my sister witnessed a terror attack and its aftermath.
That changes the frame.
What Matters
On the bus ride back from Bnei Brak to Karnei Shomron, something shifted.
When the bus turned into my family’s community, I felt a simple, clear sense of relief:
I made it there and back safely.
No one attacked the bus.
I wasn’t injured.
I didn’t witness violence.
The SIM card didn’t work.
But I was safe.
Orientation
It’s easy to get caught in the friction of everyday inconveniences:
- inefficiency
- confusion
- things not working the way they “should”
But context matters.
Not everything carries the same weight.
Some frustrations are real—but small.
Others remind us what is essential:
- safety
- life
- the ability to return home
Closing Thought
There is a place for improving systems.
There is a place for expecting things to work.
And there is also a place for stepping back and asking:
What actually matters right now?
My heart goes out to those who live with ongoing threat and uncertainty.
You deserve safety and stability.
May it come soon.
Update (April 2026):
This was written during a visit to Israel in 2015.
At the time, I was noticing the contrast between everyday inconvenience and the reality of living with ongoing security threats.
That perspective feels even more relevant now.
The tension between frustration and gratitude hasn’t disappeared—it has deepened.
We still deal with inefficiencies, confusion, and systems that don’t always work the way we expect.
And at the same time, the basic desire for safety and stability remains at the center.
This reflection is a reminder to keep orienting toward what matters, even while navigating what doesn’t work.