Under Construction

Construction sites in Israel do not get the same respect they do in the US.  Like driving in Israel, an individual’s actions in a construction zone are determined by a personal calculation of risk vs. reward.  The straightest path goes right through the construction site so the reward (a brisk walk) often outweighs the risk of say, being run over by a bulldozer.  Common sense dictates behavior and each individual bears the consequence of taking the risk. 

I have first-hand experience with this nonchalance since I walk nearly every day along a beach boardwalk that will be under construction until May.  At first, I skirted the torn up boardwalk, deviating to the beach whenever I saw men working.  Later, after watching everyone else walk straight through the work zone, I did the same.  There were a few days when they put up red tape or waist-high fencing which increased  the effort  to reward ratio and meant, "we really recommend that you do not walk here" so we went around.  Still, even then, avid walkers were hopping the waist high fencing (only plastic) and ignoring the red tape.  You don't want to walk across wet cement, but that's about the limit to caution.  Besides, there are several juice bars and restaurants that would suffer greatly if their stores were inaccessible to beach goers.  They have to trust that the customer will be both stubborn and creative enough to find their way through the construction maze.

The building where I work is also under construction.  The top floor is unfinished which necessitates the use of cranes and cherry pickers.  The cafeteria has lovely outdoor patios but there are signs up and red tape warning people not to sit outside because of the dangerous construction taking place on the roof.  These signs are largely ignored and people sit outside on the patio anyway. Yesterday, while they had a man up in a cherry picker, the safety staff felt it was necessary to increase the danger level by posting more red signs and actually moving a planter in front of the doors.  Thanks largely to the planter, no one went to the patio--the message came through that it was not only dangerous, it was going to involve a lot of effort.  Without the planter the reward of eating outdoors on a nice day was worth the effort of walking through the door that someone had propped open + the potential risk that something could fall from the roof.  Now, with the heavy planter firmly in place, the effort + the risk far exceeds the potential reward and people stay out.

In the US, we are never given so much trust as individuals to make our own risk/reward calculations.  Construction sites are usually surrounded by 9 ft tall chain link fence with barbed wire tops 3 months before any work begins on the site.  Clientele is driven from restaurants and the whole place shuts down.  If you are allowed on site, you need a hardhat and an escort.  Unlucky walkers have to detour or, heck, this is the US, they have to drive around. 

Construction occurs in one big blast and once it's complete and the fences are removed the building is expected to require only minor maintenance.  In Israel it seems like things are happier in a constant state of repair.  Construction is not just a one-time occurrence.  If walls are falling down, they can be patched.  If roofs leak, buckets provide a handy solution.  It seems like the only requirement in the building code (at least for beachside restaurants and bars) is that the building hasn't fallen down yet.  It's not shoddy construction but rather construction as a process instead of one-time act.
 
So you take a risk, but living here is an acknowledged risk, and people are happy to do it.  Things aren't as slick or as polished as they are in the US but maybe that brings them closer to reality.  I've gotten used to walking on rubble (the entire country is full of it) and it makes you reflect on the temporary nature of existence. Today's cafe is built on a Roman road that was built on the foundations of a Phoenician village which was built on a prehistoric shell mound which means there were people here before you came and there will be people here after you leave--all of those people choosing, like you did, to run the risk of living in this very strange and ancient land.