2/4/00

The Customs always right

    Greg Shafritz is a spy. He comes to our beleaguered country with apparent evil intent, he is exposed, and you know what he does? He doesn't save everyone a lot of bother by admitting his crime and surrendering; no, he argues.
    He's a tourist, and he arrives with a transmitter, which can only mean one of two things: (1) he's been sent here by Moscow as a secret agent, or (2) he's been brought here by Radio West to operate a pirate station.
    Either way, this man is a dangerous alien.
    Thank God, I say, for our heroic Customs officials who keep us safe from devious people like this.
    "But it's not a transmitter," he insists. "It's a receiver.ג€
    Look, pal, just because it looks like a receiver, operates like a receiver, and has the word "receiver" on the panel, don't mean it ain't a transmitter.
    I hate these smartypants Americans who come here and think they can hoodwink us dumb Israelis. If our carefully trained Customs people say it's a transmitter, that's good enough for me.
    His explanation makes no sense:
    "It's a 13-year-old shortwave radio. I take it with me wherever I go, to listen to Kol Yisrael. I've brought it into 17 countries without a problem."
    Aha! Then why do you need it here, where you can listen to Kol Yisrael on every bus in the country?!
    "So I can listen to Voice of America."
    Yeah, right.
    Obviously, it's a transmitter.
    "The official wouldn't let me speak. He kept shouting, 'It's a broadcasting station. It needs a license.' " The carefully-trained, highly-educated Customs expert cannot be wrong.
    "The inspector handed me a form and said, 'If you want to get it back, sign this paper and come back.' The form was written in Hebrew and Arabic only; I could not read it, and he could not translate it. I told him I couldn't sign something I did not understand, but he said I couldn't leave the airport unless I signed it. I had no choice; unwittingly, I was forced to proclaim myself a violator of the laws of the State of Israel."
    This guy -- he's from New York, which tells you something right there -- is lucky he escaped with his life, but a couple of days later he returns to the scene of the crime. A clerk at Customs House isn't about to fall for that it's-obviously-a-radio routine, and informs Shafritz that an engineer will determine if it is a receiver, transmitter or atom bomb.
    Could take days, she says.
    What she meant was, it could take days to get me on the phone.
    Finally, he finds someone who instructs him to write a letter in Hebrew explaining everything, and she adds, "yihye b'seder."  Now, Shafritz is a foreigner: he doesn't know that when an Israeli says "everything will be okay," it's time to start worrying.
    Several days later, he returns once again to Customs House. Everyone there is so friendly and helpful and efficient and considerate. (He didn't say so, but we know our civil servants, so we can assume it.) The engineer still hadn't taken a look at the Thing.
    No prob, Shafritz says; he's only a tourist, he has nothing to do. There is nothing to see and nowhere to go in Israel, so he's only too pleased to return time and again to a Customs office.
    The very next day (like I said, they are efficient), he receives a subpoena.
    As is obvious by now, he is found guilty of violating Israeli customs laws and he is ordered to pay penalties and taxes of NIS 718 for a 13-year-old Thing valued at $150. Oh, and also, he is told the Thing is a transmitter, and will not be released without a permit from the Ministry of Communications. Furthermore, his ancestors were believed to be Cossacks and so he must leave the country immediately. (OK, I made that up.)
    Sixteen days after it all began, Mr. Shafritz is still not able to transmit broadcasts. His appeal is denied. But the good news is, he is told he doesn't have to pay the NIS 718.
    The bad news is, it's now NIS 1,718 -- and he can't leave the country unless he pays it.
    "I felt like I was in a corrupt Third World country being strung up on imaginary charges," he says.
    I hate when people come here and insult our country. Sure, we do it all the time, but we live here. 
    Anyway, it turns out that Shafritz is not a spy, the transmitter is somehow a receiver, and his ancestors were not Cossacks. The Customs appraiser mumbles something about the Thing being pretty much worthless and is therefore exempt from all duties, taxes and penalties.
    But don't think for a second that Shafritz got off scot-free after wasting our bureaucrats' valuable time.
    "After making my life absolutely miserable for an entire month, after my holiday was ruined and my time in Israel wasted, it still cost me. I had to pay NIS 49.77 for storage costs!"
    Think you'll come back, Greg?