Friday, April 13, 2018 5:47 PM

Parked cars and trucks block the bus lane in front of the bakery. Their flashers lie about emergencies. The buses that need to stop block the only other lane in that direction. Cars shift into oncoming traffic. Horns honk. Drivers swerve. Eventually my bus arrives. Most of the people who get on the bus with me get off when I do. They talk among themselves in Russian, Arabic, and African languages that I can't place. I don't hear any Hebrew or English. One man, not recognizing me, challenges me when I follow them through the employees' entrance. When I speak, he realizes that he knows me; we had never met in person, but had spoken on the phone.