Tuesday, February 5, 2013

A Day of Hebrew

We had quite a day of Hebrew speaking yesterday.  And not all of it went that well. 

Calling to make a physical therapy appointment:
A friend (thanks, Wendy!) gave me the number of the physical therapy office.  I called.  I could not understand the instructions, but I knew I had options for 1, 2, or 3.  The option for 1 didn't sound right, so I tried 2 which (I think) was to make an appointment. I understand the part when they said they were busy with other customers, but the next sentence was an instruction about what to do and for the life of me I could not understand it.  Wait? Hold? Hang up?  Dance a jig?  Whistle Dixie? 

So I called my trusty phone interpreter, Gila, who called the number and tried to figure it out.  I followed her suggestion and was (I think) on hold for about 1/2 hour.  Then I gave up.

So....we drove over to the office and made the appointment.  Problem solved. 

Getting my phone fixed.
Going to the Orange service center is almost as much fun as sticking needles in your eye.  You get a piece of paper with a letter and number on it.  Mine was A216.  I looked at the monitor - hey, they were serving A215!  I'm next!  hahahahahaha!  No no no no.  The next number they called as A601.  I am not making this up.  I have no idea how this works.  We waited for an hour and there were only 2 other people in the waiting area.

Seems their business model is as follows:
1. Make everything they offer incredibly complicated and hard to understand
2. Only have 2-3 people working at one time
3. Do not train the employees so that they have to keep running around asking each other what to do
4. Have one guy in the back who knows everything eating his lunch all day so he can't be disturbed.

My phone's problem was that it kept turning on and off by itself.  I asked if I could upgrade to a new phone.  In Israel, upgrade seems to mean, "You can buy a new phone at an exorbitant price!  hahaha! gotcha!"  I did not buy a new phone.

Taking a survey from Hyundai:
Recently we had our car serviced.  There were also some, um, er, dings that had to be fixed.  Let's just say we replaced a bumper and let it go at that, shall we? 

The day after we received the car back (they brought it to us at home!) we got a call asking if everything was OK.  Very nice!

Yesterday I got a call from what must be the national Hyundai center asking if I'd answer some questions about my experience.  At least that's what I think she said.

So I said sure, thinking it would be a few questions. This woman spent at least 20 minutes with me on the phone.

She said Hebrew words I knew like "satisfied" and "recommend" - yay!  But she talked very fast and most of the time I was saying my favorite phrase of all time, "Lo hevanti" (I didn't understand).  Then she's say it again, just as fast.  My poor brain - I could hear it working, all creaky and tired sounding.  I would struggle to catch a couple of familiar words, but by the time I got one or two the next fifty were out of her mouth.  I kept asking her to repeat and apologized for my Hebrew. 

Finally I understood that I could respond by saying "m'od" or "harbeh" or "beinoni" or something else I didn't understand but I knew it was something negative and I didn't want to respond negatively because I was afraid that Mr. Hyundai would come and bash my windshield in late in the night.

OK, I like "m'od" because it was the highest recommendation and actually I was very happy with the service.  So every time  she asked a question, I said "m'od."  She was very happy with me until she asked a question that had to be answered by a ranking of one to ten and I said "m'od."  She didn't like that.  But after I figured it out, I gave a ten.


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