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How I remember it, with some writer's licence. Photos mostly plagiarised from the net.
On the third morning I was taken to a building site and left on my own with power tools. I didn’t understand quite how to use the power tools or what I was being asked to do with them. After half an hour or so of puzzling and wandering, I found the supervisor and told him so. Back at the Peace Cafe, I found out that 7am was too late to get decent work. Later that day a cheery young Israeli with big curls and sunshades turned up and took me to install solar panels precariously on roofs. He called me Michael Jackson, shouted at me for my cackhandedness, and never paid me. I could have done with health and safety going mad that day, or even saying hello.
I saw I needed to be careful about what I took on, and I also needed to earn some money that day. It was Thursday and the Sabbath was coming. The bakery beckoned.
In Hebrew the word for bakery sounds like Mafia. At the other end of the block from the Peace Cafe, the mafiah was reputed to offer all-night casual work. I’d already been disappointed by the bread available in their waste bin. As night fell, I experimentally laid out my sleeping bag at its door.
The door opened at 9pm. The mafiah took me on for all night work, eventually putting me on catching fresh loaves at the bottom of a chute. They paid five shekels an hour, but the hours were long and cumulatively lucrative, and they let me take away some of the rejects. The workforce seemed to be a mix of backpackers and locals. I was paired with Adriaan from Holland and enjoyed complaining with him about the tedious work. There was bread to share at the beach for the Sabbath. I came back two more nights, but about 3am on Monday morning, Eli sacked us both for falling asleep on the job.
I was too tired to walk back to the beach and tried to sleep in parks. The police moved me on a couple of times.
Not wanting to risk another sacking, I caught up on my sleep and started looking into the next stage of the adventure I was raising money for: a visa and Hepatitis A shot for Egypt. Visa yes, from the Egyptian consulate. But shots? The hospital was no help. I should have had one before coming to Israel. If only I’d known how that would cut short my travels.
Click for Part IV.
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