"Thanks for the adventure!"

"Thanks for the adventure!"
was what I said to my neighbor last night as she got out of the car.

I was trying to find just the right words after the wedding. It had all started off rather routine.

A couple of months ago our neighbors' son got engaged, a wonderful, normal life cycle event. All agreed. Then we got the wedding invitation, and I started looking for a ride to the wedding. We don't have a car. It's only when we have to get to one of those out of the way places when I feel the lack. I really hate the grind, that yes, embarrassing, demeaning, requesting, begging almost. Sometimes I'm really lucky, run into someone by chance, mentioning in a very light, undemanding way, that I'm just wondering how I'm going to get to a certain wedding. And then, without any effort at all, I'm invited to join them in their car, which has plenty of room for us, and they enjoy our company, so...

With the popularity of emails and the fact that our community has a "yahoo group," it is now a little easier. I type and send a bi-lingual request, and sometimes I get a very welcome offer.

For last night's wedding I tried every method and asked everyone I could, and it looked like I was going to sit it out at home. Finally, the day before I received an email about a ride and I quickly informed other searching neighbors, since we carless have to stick together. I was told that they weren't sure if they'd be leaving from Jerusalem or Shiloh, but it didn't matter, since I had to go to work, and I could just bring my clothes and make-up and go from there to Jerusalem.

Yesterday morning some of my students came to Shiloh for a special lesson, which I gave in a building near my house. When it was over I told them to wait while I ran home for a minute to photocopy something for them. With my hands full of papers, a pitcher and a bowl of cookies, suddenly my cell phone rang. I had to put everything on the path to answer it, not very dignified. A neighbor asked if I wanted to share a "taxi." I told him I wasn't sure and would call him back.

I went home, finished with my students and started the phone calls. Time was running short, and I had to pack for work and include the clothes and make-up, but first I had to ascertain where the ride was leaving from. They said it would be from Shiloh, which was great, but the only problem was that we'd be leaving a bit late. Then suddenly I got a call from work that my classes were cancelled. So it really paid to leave from home.

So I checked up about the taxi and told that neighbor that maybe some others would be interested. Then I got a call from another neighbor that one of their passengers cancelled, and I could go with them and they were to be leaving an hour before the first offer. So I agreed to that and left messages for the original ride to cancel and told the neighbor who ordered the taxi that a place was free.

That was the easy part, and we had a wonderful trip to the wedding, which was beautiful.

Going home was easier; there were lots more rides, and some of those who had arrived with us took earlier rides home. Finally, the wedding was over, and yes, we had stayed until the very end.

It always seems shorter, going home. We hadn't yet reached Jerusalem when we pulled into a 24 hour gas station, but up to the air pump. I began paying attention to the couple in the front seat who were discussing some strange shaking in the car. They were afraid to go any further. The car was full. A young family from Ofra was in the middle seat, so we were a total of eight.

How were we to get home? It was after midnight. Towing was arranged, but that didn't help us. After numerous phone calls, the young couple managed to reach the photographer from Beit El who had just enough room for them. And then we reached the parents of the groom who had room for three and the groom's sister who could squeeze in one plus a child. So by some great miracle nobody was left, though two of us had checked out a taxi, which was less money than we had suspected.

Yes, it all worked out. And once we got home I had to find the right thing to say to the neighbor who had offered me the ride, which turned out to be an "adventure."