It was almost intolerably hot, especially for April and with rainstorms just two days ago. I was worried about Petra's delicate skin, already flushed since yesterday's walk home from Vardiya under the bright sun. I wished I could have held an umbrella over her, but my hands were already occupied with pushing Declan's stroller up the big hill towards Carmeliya.
"Shalom."
I stopped my pushing and turned back to see a middle-aged man wearing a kippa walking up to me while taking out his wallet.
"Shalom...." I wondered if he was going to sell me something.
"May I see your ID please?"
"Sorry, I don't have any ID on me."
The man looked surprised, while my heart was sinking. If this was a con artist, I didn't know how to extricate myself from the situation. If this was a legitimate ID check by a police/immigration officer, I was still in trouble for not having anything on me that proved my identity.
"How come you don't have any ID on you? No passport, nothing?"
"I didn't think to carry any. I was just on my way to Mommy & Me and a brief grocery shopping trip."
"Mommy & Me?"
"Yes, over there." (gesturing towards Hila's house) "Where a group of moms and their children get together to sing some songs."
"Oh...You should always carry some form of ID on you. What's your passport number?"
I thought to myself that, one of these days, I really should memorize my passport number. Meanwhile, the man was joined by another person.
Man #2: "What are you? Filipino?"
"No." (annoyed because why does everyone think I'm a Filipino nanny? Didn't my children look even vaguely similar to me?) "I'm Taiwanese."
"Ah, Taiwan. What is your passport number?"
We basically had the same exchange, with me increasingly defensive at the ludicrous nature of the situation. I was wearing Petra in a sling and fearing that she'd wake up and start fussing while we're still quite far from home, and Declan was arguing with me about how I'd just removed all the skin from his banana and he was greatly displeased. I finally called Daniel on the phone and passed him over to the more outspoken officer.
Declan: "Mama's phone? Man using Mama's phone?"
Me: "That's right, Declan, he's talking with Daddy on Mama's phone."
Man #1: "This is my ID card. You see? I'm an immigration officer. Tell your husband that we're real."
Me: "I know, I'm sorry, it's just that, in the US, people can make cards that are fake."
We waited as Man #2 got increasingly agitated while talking with Daniel on the phone. At one point, he started shouting his own name and ID # and shoved his ID card at my face, insisting that it's real. I just shrugged and smiled apologetically at Man #1. I had already apologized verbally for my husband's suspiciousness.
Eventually, Man #2 got so mad that he handed the phone back to me, told the people on his other phone (he was searching for my information on the immigration mainframe while talking with Daniel) to stop searching, told me that they couldn't find me and just effing bring my ID with me the next time I go out, snapped at his partner to get going, and both of them jaywalked across the street.
When asked for my identification info, Daniel had asked him for his identification info. Later, Daniel took the man's name and ID number and had a Technion administrative search for him in the immigration office. The man really did work for Israel's immigration.
I feel sorry for anybody who inadvertently gets caught up in legal matters with my husband. Even when they win, they never really win.
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