My first day of school – What could possibly go wrong?

 

Everything! But before I share my experience, who am I? Today I am an author, a speaker and a lecturer specializing in Global Affairs with an emphasis on the Middle East. I am a champion of Lifelong Learning in the “Third Age” and lecturing at institutions of continuing education. Why at the ripe age of eighty-one did I choose to go back to university to complete the requirements for earning my degree? That is a story unto itself. Fifteen years ago, my internet software company of which I was founder, chairman and CEO fell victim to the 2008 financial crisis when a few days before its scheduled IPO the market crashed. This, quite naturally, ended my professional career as a high-tech entrepreneur and a business executive. It was a natural time for me to retire. Not two weeks into my retirement I received an ultimatum from my wife, now, of sixty-one years: “You better find something you feel passionate about, embrace it and get the hell out of my house.” Shortly thereafter at the age of sixty-six I enrolled to a university as an undergraduate student in Political Science, International Relations and in my fourth year on a scholarship as a foreign student at an overseas university completed my fourth year in Islamic and Security studies. When my credits were transferred to my home university, I remained 30 credits short of graduating with a degree in political science. It was the specific studies that interested me rather than the degree, and which I parlayed into my present occupation as an author, speaker, and lecturer. In the past few years five of my seven grandchildren graduated from different universities in different disciplines and are already pursuing successful careers. One started her third year and the youngest was just admitted to a university of her choice. We have proudly attended every significant event in their lives including of course all their graduation ceremonies. We have a tradition in our extended family. We meet every Friday night for dinner and after dinner share our week’s experiences and our plans and challenges. This is where me going back to school on a dare comes into play. In one of our family chats one of the grandchildren mentioned how proud they all felt to have us witness their graduation and uttered that had I graduated they, although still young, would have been delighted to attend my graduation. On a whim I responded: free your calendar for next Spring and the next morning re-enrolled in the elective courses for the additional credits required to be eligible to earn my degree.

Today was my first day back at school some fifteen years from the time I first enrolled as an undergraduate student at a university, and it is as if I joined a whole new world. So here is the reason for the title which I held you in suspense to discover. What could possibly go wrong, you ask? Everything.  

 

First, even Waze could not navigate me from my home to the university lecture hall and had me drive in circles, attempting to outsmart Toronto’s infamous traffic congestions and construction zones. It took me twice the amount of time Waze originally declared. Then I discovered to my chagrin that I forgot to pack my laptop mouse. (yes, people my age are still using mouses to navigate Microsoft Windows to the chagrin and ridicule of my grandchildren) To add insult to injury my touchpad which can of course be used absent a mouse was frozen and inoperable. Now I am on campus but unaware of where I need to go for my first lecture as this information is stored on my inoperable laptop. I finally made it (and on time) for my first (in class) lecture. I was reminded of my younger days where in class in a lecture hall was the only standard – my other course is strictly online using Zoom which I had to miss as if you remember for this, I needed my mouse less laptop. It was a great feeling to be back in class with some hundred plus other students all of them younger than my grandchildren. The university was not well prepared for the opening of the summer semester as the room temperature measured in the upper 25 degrees with the humidex it felt like 30+. Of course, I did not plan for the “mouse disaster” and did not have a paper notebook (nobody does) to write down notes.  As I left the first lecture on my way to what I thought would be the lecture hall for my next tutorial the skies opened with a vicious thunderstorm as I arrived soaking wet at my destination. Only to discover that the tutorial was online. It is late afternoon I am soaked and while I packed a hefty lunch, did not, with all the above, eat or drink since I left home many hours ago and was famished.  As I approached my car, I already noticed a yellow tag on the window, a ticket for exceeding the allowed parking time limit. Coming home, as I opened the door, I heard my wife say: “How was your first day at school?” Well, I just told you. Lessons learned: People of the “Third Age” should take more time to plan and adjust to our digital world. Am I going back to school next week? You bet. My grandchildren already cleared their calendars for my graduation.

 

  

PASSPORT DRAMA ON 3 CONTINENTS IN 5 ACTS - June 9, 2024

 

ACT I

Arrived in Israel for a speedy 3-day trip to see my 87 years old sister and to spend some time with two of my granddaughters who happened to be in Israel at the time. Beside family the highlight of the stay was a private tour of the Gaza envelope culminating on the grounds of the now infamous Nova Festival where Hamas murdered hundreds of young Israelis and kidnapped many of them most of whom are still in captivity as human shields and ransom currency for the murderous barbaric terrorist organization. It was a heart wrenching and mind-blowing experience. You need to be there to comprehend the barbaric massacre that happened on these peaceful grounds on October 7 and the national trauma that followed.

ACT II

The objectives for the short (3 days) trip were fulfilled and more and it was instantly time to come back. As it happened my granddaughter was returning home on the same day on the same flight concluding a three-year study to begin her professional career in Toronto. Flight time 6am with instructions to arrive at least 3 hours ahead. The only debate that evening was: Do you stay up till 2:30am or try to sleep with a 2:30 wake up time. The latter prevailed except that by 1:15am I was already wide awake.

It occurred to me that it was the right time to look for my dual passports (Israeli and Canadian) in preparation for checking in at the airport. Horror ensued. I could not find my passports where I was certain they were tucked away in my backpack pocket. They were not there!!!

Long story short, through recreating the events of the past 3 days it dawned on me that the passports were lost during our Gaza tour. I kept them in my back pocket for what only Israelis could understand: identification in case of a tragic incident of which there are many, especially in this area where a fierce war is still being waged.

 

OMG what now? No passports - no departure and then what? Some would say stuff happens- deal with it. We are all just people. Me, I switch to a dual mode of self- condemnation and creative problem-solving mode. My nephew who woke up to witness my horror came to the rescue. Within minutes we were on our way to the airport, way ahead of the three-hour recommendation. To my surprise there is an emergency passport issuing counter for cases like this. To my chagrin there were tens if not a hundred people lining up. It felt good to know that I was not the only careless, disaster-prone individual (my reputation) but it was also clear that joining the line meant that we would miss the flight and then what? This is where my, some people say, talent for motivating people to do things they normally wouldn’t do springs into play. As eighty-one years old and with a somewhat of a heart condition (all true) I had many people allow me to get to the top of the line (people are for the most part kind and understanding). Within minutes I held a bright and shiny Israeli (emergency) passport. Live and learn that such an option exists.  With a shiny new Israeli passport in hand, I quickly checked in only to find out that…

 

ACT III

The airline explained that as an Israeli Canadian citizen I cannot enter Canada with a non-Canadian passport unless I also secure a special visa which could be applied for and secured within half an hour. You think! As a compromise the airline agreed to check me in to Frankfurt on the newly minted emergency Israeli passport but not beyond. The suggestion that an Israeli travelling on an Israeli passport to Canada needs a special visa was new to me. But to my chagrin this is not all. I discovered that as a dual citizen I am not allowed to enter Canada with a foreign passport - period. Only a valid handheld Canadian passport. It’s decision time and I board the flight to Frankfurt figuring that by then some solution to the lost passports will emerge. This marked the beginning of:

ACT IV:

This happens all the time when people who do not have authority are asked to bend policy towards common sense, eventually come through with a dose of human instinct to help as much as they can when motivated by a bit of (sometimes exaggerated but innocent) “victim of circumstances”, empathy inducing pleas.

 

This is when Olga comes into the play. Olga, as luck would have it when the story is finished, is a dual citizen herself. German and Israeli, born in Beer Sheva and speaking naturally Hebrew and German. The coincidence of both of us sharing the same culture and language came into play. After understanding the circumstance of the lost passports and in the face of compelling evidence of my Canadian citizenship including but not limited to a scanned copy of my Canadian Citizenship Certificates, photos of past expired Canadian Passports and more… She escalated the situation to the best of her ability including getting on the phone with the Canadian border security authorities who may under extreme circumstances bend the policy. The answer came back after Olga’s genuine advocacy “Sorry No Can Do”.

 

The Israeli Passport with or without a digital visa is not an option since I am a Canadian citizen and policy may be bent only with hard paper in hand evidence of Canadian citizenship likely only in the form of an official Canadian passport. Olga genuinely apologized that even given my advanced age, my heart condition and my scheduled cardiologist appointment the next day for which I waited months all which I made a point stressing if not stretching the truth. The verdict remained: No Can Do! Option: stay in Frankfurt until you figure out how to obtain an emergency Canadian passport through a Canadian Consulate. It may take a day or two or more if you need to travel to another city, but it can be done. I was ready to pack it in and stew in my misery. I wished my granddaughter a safe flight home to Toronto. Little did I know that all the while…

 

ACT V:

One of my sons back in Toronto with the help of his siblings made every effort to find a solution that will allow me to board the flight now minutes away from taking off. As I was no longer acting rationally after exhausting all my empathy inducers, they communicated with my granddaughter working on a possible but not that probable solution that may come through even in time before bordering is completed. “Ya right” I thought while searching for a hotel in Frankfurt where I can cry into my pillow beating myself up for being so careless and forgetful in losing both passports in Israel. With literally seconds left I received an email saying:

 

“Good day, your application for a special authorization to board your flight with your non-Canadian passport has been approved”

 

I was quick to hand it to Olga and enjoyed the look of her smile when she handed me my boarding card. She was genuinely happy with a sense of empathy rarely seen in the ranks of airline ground crews. I am writing this “play” while on the plane home with my granddaughter whose six hours connection time in Frankfurt I abused while with my anxiety and what in our family is known as “Sabba (Hebrew word for Grandfather) Binged”. All's well that ends well is the saying. Not so fast…

 

EPILOGUE:

I am yet to arrive in Toronto to thank my son who led the team of siblings operating from Canada without whom I may have had to seek German citizenship. I did not thank my Israeli nephew enough for his assistance, I already thanked Olga in Germany for exemplary helpful conduct. I profusely apologized for putting my Granddaughter through the ordeal and for making her life miserable when she herself went through separation anxiety from her beloved Israel.

I also looked at the mirror and who knows if in fact I learned a few lessons:

>Feeling sorry for yourself and beating yourself up for being absent minded, forgetful and disorganized is not a virtue!

>Improvisation is a bad substitute for careful planning and good order.

> If at first you don’t succeed try and try again is not just a cliché

>People are generally good and helpful if dealt with honestly (occasionally with a twist) and respectfully and…

>There is no substitute in life for a close-knit loving family even when the head of the tribe goes bonkers.