20/1/00

Getting there is half his life

    Ami drives to work in the morning. Then he drives home. The next day, he does it again. He'll take a day off, and again, once or twice more during the week, he drives to and from work.
    So?
    Ami lives near Haifa -- and works 250 kilometers away, just north of Mitzpe Ramon. That's about 500 kilometers a day -- and all of Israel is only 555 km. from top to bottom.
    This fellow covers the length of the country on a routine day, amid our infamously nerve-wracking drivers on white-knuckle roads. And he probably grouses a lot less than you or I traveling our five or six kilometers to work. (Actually, I work at home; my bedroom is three meters from my office.)
    Ami loves driving, which is a good thing. His wife Liat hates driving. She's a social worker in a hospital oncology ward. She loves her work; he hates hospitals.
    "I would despise having to do what he does," Liat says. "I think he has the worst job in the world. He thinks I do."
    Talk about opposites attracting. "Like I breathe, Ami drives. But when I'm in the car, driving is torture, I'm a nervous wreck. And you know how it is in this country: driving brings out the worst in people. For Ami, it's not an issue." Liat was in a serious car crash some years ago; her recovery was long, slow and arduous.
    Typically, Ami is out of the house by 3 a.m. On the way to work he pulls over to say morning prayers, then continues on to the central Negev, where he rents farmland, growing vegetables.
    The numbers are staggering: he has driven 220,000 km. in the past year and 10 months alone; by comparison, when I sold my car recently, it had 140,000 km -- and it was 16 years old.
    In less than two years, he has driven the equivalent of five and a half times around the world -- all within the confines of this tiny country. He could have been two-thirds of the way to the moon, for goodness sake!
    Professional drivers, such as cabbies, truckers and bus drivers, cover a lot of road, but in the course of their work; Ami chalks up the mileage getting to and from work.   
    Liat confirms what should be obvious: "You're not talking about a normal person here. He's not one of those salaried workers who can sit behind a desk all his life. He's open-minded, creative, loves challenges, and he loves moving. I'm a very conservative person. He's a risk-taker; he takes calculated risks when he's driving." Amazingly, he's had no major accidents.
    "Ami can't stand traffic lights. He'll do all kinds of detours that make the journey even longer; he hates being still. But if he feels he's getting tired, he stops on the side and rests awhile. I often call him on the cellular, just to make sure he's awake." For about seven hours a day, both Ami and Liat are in their element: he's cruising along, she's uptight.
    Currently he owns a four-wheel drive Nevada, but it probably won't last long. "He wears out cars quickly, changing them every couple of years. Before, he had a Citroen BX; it was a miracle it lasted."
    Lately, he has taken to skipping the drive home at times, sleeping over on one of the Negev farms. Liat sighs. That's good, because he's on the road less; it's bad, because he's at home less. "I decided not to be miserable when he's not here, keeping myself very busy. I got involved in all kinds of activities, and actually came to enjoy being by myself."
    Yeah, but next thing you know, he started going to work less, and stayed home more. "I had adjusted to him not being around, and adapted my life. I'm happy to see him, of course, but it messes up my whole schedule," she says, good-naturedly without a hint of exasperation or resentment.
    No matter what Ami's work demands of him, there's one uncompromising constant: Shabbat. For 25 hours each week, the wheels don't turn.
    "Thank God we're religious, because if we weren't, I'm sure when he's very busy, we wouldn't even have Shabbat as a framework. We have a weekend relationship; once a week, he has to be home."
    Has to be home?
    Not this fellow.
    "The other day he drove home from work, and said he wanted to go somewhere for Shabbat." Liat shakes her head in disbelief: "He said, 'Let's go to Eilat.'
    "I said are you crazy?!"