A view of yet another Israeli first.

I love going to the eye doctor. Is that weird?

I just love the clicking sound the lenses make when your face is in that huge thing and you have to say which was clearer, one? Or two? One? Or two? This one? Or this one?

Today I went to pick out new glasses and get my eyes checked since it’s been a while and my parnasa involves staring at a computer screen for 8+ hours straight.

First of all, Israel is really into buy-one-get-one-free deals when it comes to glasses (actually, when it comes to anything). So here I am, trying to pick out not one, but two pairs of glasses. And if you know me, I’m real picky about glasses; one out of two times, I screw up and get stuck with a pair I hate (Well, since I’m getting two here, I guess the numbers are in my favor).

Secondly – damn was I disappointed when the doctor didn’t use the big face-seeing thing and instead put this third-world glasses-device on my face to check my vision! No clicking sound. Just… awkward glasses-device.
Finally: We had been wondering if I’ll look at rows of aleph-bet or numbers or pictures or what, since we were pretty sure it wouldn’t be giant E’s. My husband guessed it would be numbers, since there are so many immigrants here. Numbers are universal and the first thing you learn in Hebrew is numbers. Clever guess, and he was right.

“Shesh. Shalosh. Neera li… tesha?”

It’s really something else having to keep up with all the instructions in Hebrew. I assumed based on what I know of years of eye-doctoring and I just hope I don’t get stuck with glasses made for someone far sighted or legally blind (though I’m close enough).

“Shmone. Shtayim o mashahu. Arba. Mashahu.”

I did that a lot – “Mashahu.” That’s not a number, folks. That’s crappy vision, in any language.

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