Sending a Fax on Chol HaMoed

Still in Rehovot. I had to send a fax to the United States today. It is still Chol HaMoed here in Israel, those interim days between Succot and Simchat Torah which are sort of holidays but sort of not. So banks and everything else that's not a restaurant closes at around noon. I had to go to the bank, but first to the post office to send a fax. Despite it's advanced military technology, despite cell phones everywhere, there are times when Israel seems like a third world country. Chol HaMoed is one of those times. Of course, at the post office, they tell me I cannot send a fax there. I have to go next door, to Gadi. I assume Gadi is another store or some such business. In fact, Gadi is Gadi Cohen, who runs a small business out of his apartment, to the left and up the stairs. He has a little office, with a little fax machine. He charges me 8 shekels for the fax. After, his wife asks if I want something to eat. I would have, but I had to rush to the bank. In any case, this could only happen in Israel. It reminds me of the beginnig of Amos Oz's memoirs, "A Tale of Love and Darkness," which relates the story of how, in the 1940s, his family would arrange to go to the local drugstore to make phone call once a month. Times have changed, or have they?

In another news, I had Dominos Pizza and Chicken Wings today. Pizza (pepperoni of course) was solid, wings were decent too. I did not have twisty bread or cinnastix, though I wanted to very badly. Next time.