Hello!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while...no wifi in my dorm and loads of other lame excuses. Also the formatting is a little strange for this post because I wrote it at so many different times. I apologize.  Anyway...

Well I always have such dreary and depressing posts and that's not really fun. I tallied up my positive versus negative posts and although they sum up about fifty-fifty, I noticed that the positive ones are about two thirds shorter. Oops. 

I realize this is strange, and I don't fully understand why this is, but I do see that it gives a more morbid feeling to the whole blog. Thus, to combat this dark cloud, I thought to jot down some funny conversations I've had (or someone in my family has had) or heard as an immigrant. I will note that these may be slightly embellished for effect, but a very close variation (if not the exact version) of these conversations did occur. 

1) Happy Birthday

My father, mother, and I are gathered around speaking to our American friend. She introduces us to her son who we are unsure if he speaks English. While my Israeli father is conversing with him

Friend (in whisper to me): It's my son's birthday today. Wish him happy birthday.

Me (awkwardly): !מזל טוב! עד מאה ועשרים

 Translation: Congratulations! Until 120!

Elongated (to me) pause. In my head I keep going: "Wait, how do I say happy birthday? How do I say happy birthday???" Meanwhile the conversation between my father and the son is continuing. Finally...

Me (interjecting loudly after socially awkward pause): !יום הולדת שמח 

Translation: Happy birthday!

2) Annoying Neighbor

Walking with my buddies from the Shevet (youth group) on Shabbat. One of them turns to me in a friendly way and starts to chat with me

Friend 1: מה שלומך שירה? איך מדרשה? שמתי שפלונה אלמונה היא שם איתך. איזה כיף! תגידי לי פלונה אלמונה היא מעצבנת אותך

Translation: How's it going Shira? I heard that X is at Seminary with you. What fun! Tell me, does X annoy you?

I think to myself "Well gee, that word probably means something like help or manages. Of course my friend helps me out!

Me: !כן כן בטח

Translation: Yes yes! Of course!

The friend in question, who is also strolling with us, swivels around and asks in a slightly hurt tone

Friend 2: מה? אני מה?

Translation: What? I what?

Me (beginning to color slightly): ...מה קרה? הפואל הזה כמו לעזור נכון? משהו טוב

Translation: What happened? This verb is like to help, right? Something good...

Friend one (in English now): No Shira, it is like to annoy.

3)The Hysterical phone-call 

I needed to make an appointment to receive a shot for my national service. I'd been through quite a few hoops already and many people I spoke to on the phone kept sending me to different offices and all around the country. Finally, I had everything I needed and I wanted to schedule an appointment. I'd been told that it is best to just ask to speak in English for anything medical related in this country. So I swallowed my pride and decided to just ask to conduct the phone call in English.I called the number to make an appointment and:

Me: שלום, אפשר לדבר באנגלית?

Translation: Hello, is it possible to speak in English?

Woman 1: כן רגה.

Translation: Sure, wait a moment

At this point she put me on hold. Then another woman picked up a few moments later.

Me: שלום, אפשר לדבר באנגלית?

Translation: Hello, is it possible to speak in English?

Woman 2:  כן רגה.

Translation: Sure, one moment.

This woman tried to transfer me to a different person, but it wasn't working and she kept telling me to wait a sec. Finally I just gave up and said...

Me (very disgruntled and wary):אפשר לדבר ברברית אם יש לך צבלנות.

Translation: It's possible to speak in Hebrew if you have patience.

The woman laughed and then said she did have patience. I made the appointment and it turned out she did speak a little English. After we had successfully scheduled an apointment from a mostly Hebrew conversation...

Me: ממש? וואו היה יותר קל מחשבתי! תודה רבה!!!

Translation: Really? Wow, that was easier than I thought! Thanks so much!

The woman was laughing and laughing as I hung up. I think I made her day. 

And my friends, those are just a few funny moments. Other times people tell me I have bad Hebrew, but they use the wrong gender and I laugh in my head at the absurdity of them insulting my Hebrew incorrectly. Sometimes I say I want to cancel something when I mean express it. This happens to the best of us and although in the moment it is often very painful, it is good to try and reflect later and have a good laugh. 

I hope you all have a great day. My eventual goal is to post once a week. Wish me luck!

Yours etc,

Shira

No need for more Hebrew here, there's plenty in the post :D

What Happened to Compassion?

Greetings,

A couple of weeks ago I spoke with a good friend on the phone about my acceptance to National Service in a hospital next year (I will G-d willing dedicate a whole post to all the shannagins that went into that some other time). My dear friend told me how happy she was for me, and she expressed her excitement that I was reaching a new phase in my Aliyah, a place where things were turning around and getting better. At the time, I accepted her congratulations and thought quietly to myself that Aliyah doesn't quite work like that, but maybe she was correct and I was looking at it wrong. Well, a few weeks later I realize my gut was correct--it doesn't work like that at all (sorry to my lovely friend, I know you were hoping for the best).

My sister is on a hike now with the other teenagers her age from our Yishuv (her Shevet). She didn't want to go, but we convinced her. "It'll be fun," we said. "It's good for you," we said. "Don't worry about the language, there will be English speakers there to help," we said. Well, I am officially eating my hat and sternly reprimanding myself for encouraging her to go on a hike she didn't want to go on, and for putting my head in her personal decision-making. I now understand why she didn't want to go.

It all started charmingly, her friend came to pick her up, and they set off to wait for the bus in good spirits. Before they had even left the soil of the Yishuv, someone heard my sister's friend speaking to her in English and said, "no don't speak to her in English, her house is in English, that's enough."

I was in shock. How could someone say that? How could someone pass that judgment on my sister? I am struggling to understand the insensitivity that one must possess to make a comment like that, even a passing one. I've been trying to understand this phenomenon for months now, and I still am no clearer on why people say these things. I hear people saying "yeah her Hebrew's not that good"--when I'm standing right there. This is not even touching on what people say to my face, such as "well, aren't you scared for the Hebrew? I mean I don't think you can do it." "Wait another year, it's too challenging for you."

Back to my sister and her hike: There is no way that that person knows what's going on in my sister's head. There is no way they know how much Hebrew or English she understands. What's the big deal if she likes to speak to her friends in English? Why is Hebrew so much better for her right now, at this moment in time--a mere 7 months after her arrival here? For the people that grew up speaking Hebrew; great! You've revived an ancient language.  For the people that never set foot out of Israel and don't appear to posses one iota of compassion or one speck of imagination for what it must feel like to be in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, all bombarding you in an unfamiliar language; cheerio. Let's all clap, you are all like Itzchak Avinu (Issac our father)...or are you? Do you really think he would have said that to my sister?

My sister just got here. Yes she didn't come from a war-raging country, or a poverty-stricken province. Yes, we (her and I) come from a more "spoiled" place. But that doesn't negate the fact that we chose to come here, to what is supposed to be the Jewish home. Just because I came from a 1st world country is my Aliyah a joke?

It's hard to leave plenty for poverty.

It is onerous to leave understanding for judgment.

It's tough to leave grandeur for rubble.

It's trying to leave popularity for pariah-dom.

It is challenging to go from being helpful to being an oaf.

It is herculean to leave comfort for struggle.

It is laborious to leave English for Hebrew.

It is a struggle to leave familiarity for the unknown.

And that struggle continues every day. Every wretched day. Does it come in waves? I would say so. Indeed, sometimes things look very bright and sunny. Every now and then I meet a really caring person, or come across a family who really wants all the Jews here, all of them home, and they do everything they can to welcome and help. But there are peaks and valleys, high and low points. I think as time wears on the stretches in between get longer, and maybe I will one day stay on the peaks permanently. But for now, there are still dips, and I ask G-d for help in everything I do.

People ask me why I'm here, why don't I leave? I came home, and home I intend to stay. I belong here, even if the natives don't seem to think so. Did I expect a warmer welcome, yes. Did I expect more understanding? Yes. Was I prepared for degradation? No. Was I prepared for continuous judgment? No.

Will I deal with it and persevere? You bet.

I remember hanging out with a lot of Saudi students in America. I was friends with many non-native speakers, and I learned a lot about other cultures. When I came to Israel and experienced being an immigrant for myself, I looked back on my experiences there and realized that I should have spoken slower, shouldn't have written such long messages and other retrospective tips. But overall, when I was there I tried to imagine what is was like for them and to show compassion to people far away from their home, food, language, and culture. I imagined, and even though I didn't get it right all the time, at least I tried to have compassion. I attempted to think about what it was like to be in a place where everything around someone is foreign.

And that's what I just don't understand. Didn't peoples' parents and teachers tell them that? Didn't peoples' counselors school them in the ways of compassion and kindness?

What happened to compassion?

  היום אני במצב רוח רע. יש עננים שחורים ואני מרגישה בייאוש. אני מקווה שאנשים יהיו יותר נחמד בעתיד

Translation: Today I'm in a bad mood. There are black clouds and I feel in despair. I hope that people will be nicer in the future.

I remain, yours etc,
Shira

March Life Update :)

Greetings readers,

I had stopped writing here because I was finding the posts too depressing and morbid. However, the fans (dare I address anyone as such?) have protested and thus I find myself again staring at the computer screen, wondering how best to showcase my life without making anyone want to cry.

Well, despite that dreary introduction, life is actually improving. I've passed the six month anniversary of my Aliyah (moving to Israel) and I can see that in some respects I am getting more comfortable and accustomed to the ways of the people here, and some of the places themselves.

Since I last wrote, of course much has changed. I finished Ulpan, although don't know how I did on the final exam yet. I recently moved to Jerusalem to learn in Seminary (A Jewish religious school just for girls). I'm learning in the overseas program which is taught in English (although of course 90% of our books and sources are in Hebrew) and is open to girls of all ages. Some people asked me why I didn't just go to learn in the Israeli program which is all in Hebrew, and my answer was that I wanted to go to Seminary to learn Torah, and I'm learning it for me, so I can be a better Jew, and I can understand more of my Avodat Hashem (work of G-d). In my mind, it doesn't matter what language I do that in, meaning I could do it through pictures if it would help me, or in sign language. I am going there for the material, and I really want to understand what I am learning. At this point in my life I understand a lot more in English than I do in Hebrew, especially subtlety and details. And that's what I'm doing. I really love it there, and I'm learning a lot. Oh, and just to clarify I do actually take a couple of extra courses that are in Hebrew. I get much less out of them of course, but I try. And I am always looking for more to augment my studies.

Moving right along, Midrasha (Seminary) is going well, I'm making a lot of friends and I am very lucky because one of the girls from my Yishuv studies there as well! I am even fortunate enough to live very close to her, like just across the hall! We hang out a lot, and she helps me learn Hebrew. :) Also in my Yishuv I find myself feeling closer to the people here, and understanding them more than I used to. As time goes on many of the girls in my Shevet know my feelings on Hebrew, and now they can laugh with me when I make faces at the what's app group, and when I send photos people respond and know who I am. I'm still really quiet, and I'm not sure how long it will take for that to change, or even if it ever will. Maybe I will forever be a quieter type in Hebrew, and maybe that's okay. Many people associate silence and slow delivery of speech with mystery, snobbishness, and intrigue. So perhaps my issues of self expression in Hebrew will actually serve me well and make people think I am loads more interesting then I actually am. I mean, hypothetically people could mistake my long pause (where in reality I am searching for a word or translating a phrase) for deep introspection, and this will make my answer more important or interesting.

On a related note, at Seminary as I find myself in more conversations in English I realize it is so much easier to accidentally be mean or insulting. I didn't realize that having to measure each word and painstakingly prepare it before I deliver it, something I have always found dreadful and agonizing, could actually be a gift. When I calculate each word so meticulously I am much less likely to hurt or insult people. I can really be a master of my speech, and when I look at it in that light, it's actually remarkable. Just as one man's trash can be another's treasure, sometimes torment can actually be a legacy.

Lastly (I daresay I am always droning on endlessly on these posts; so sorry) here are some photographs of my Purim celebration today. Two photographs of are the lovely meal I attended--a "before" and an "after." And then one photograph is of the Mishloach Manot (gifts) I received. :)

I remain yours etc,
Shira


כן כן חיים שלי הוא ממשיכים כל יום . עדיין יש צרות אבל עכשיו לפעמים גם יש רגעים גדולים . לפעמים אני מרגישה אני ואני לומד איך להרגיש יותר נוח חוץ מהבית שלי (הוא מקום אנגלית). אני מקווה שיהיה היום בקרוב כשאני לא לדאוג . אני מחכה לפגוש עוד אנשים נחמדים במיוחד בעלי/בעלות מדות . אפילו שאני צעיר בחיים שמתי לב שאין מהשו יותר חשוב ממדות בבן אדם באמת בסוף היום אין דברים כאלא.

Translation: Yes yes, my life continues every day. Still there are troubles, but now sometimes there are also great moments. Sometimes I feel like myself, and I am learning how to feel more comfortable outside of my house (it's an English place). I hope that there will be a day soon when I will not worry. I am waiting to meet more nice people, especially masters of Middot (good character attributes). Even though I am young I have noticed in my life that there is nothing more important than Middot in a person. Really, at the end of the day there is nothing like it.

Ordering sundaes!

Today I ordered food for the first time in Hebrew. I was really excited and even took a photo. Usually I ask my sister or father to order for me, but today I took the leap and did it myself. Thanks to everyone who let me hide in my cocoon and not order any food for the past four months. But the time has come: this butterfly has wings.

היום הזמנתי בפעם ראשונה! וואו, איזה כיף!! אני מאוד בשמחה שהזמנתי! להרבה זמן הירגשתי מפחדת, אבל היום עשיתי!!

Translation: today I ordered for the first time! Wow, what fun! I am so happy that I ordered! For a long time I felt afraid, but today I did it!

On "Throwing in the Towel" and the difficulty of the word for "night"

Greetings to all!

I hope everyone is staying nice and toasty in whichever corner of the world they find themselves tucked away in at this very moment. 

Today I would like to briefly touch on the matter of gender in the Hebrew language. Firstly, it exists. Secondly, it's an extremely difficult concept to grasp for someone learning the language, especially a novice who is coming from a non-similar language (i.e. English which is not a gender-ed language versus Arabic which similarly to Hebrew, has gender). And lastly, it was the word  "לילה" which means "night" that soiled everything for me.

In Hebrew words that end in either "ת"  or "ה" are feminine. Feminine words have different endings if they are made plural than masculine words. They end in  "ות" not  "ים"   . However, (and that however should be read underneath a microscope and cranked up really high because it is so huge), there are  exceptions to these rules. And luckily enough for an initiate such as myself, most of the exceptions are really common words like "table" and "road." (Insert loud sarcastic snicker.)  There are a whole slew of rules that correlate with the way in which gender works in Hebrew, but I don't want to give readers a grammar lesson at present. Rather, I would like to write a sort of clip of how it happened that my heart was broken over the innocent looking word   "לילה"    "night."

I arrived at class and took my accustomed seat next to my lovely sister. We shared a small bit of conversation before class began. As soon as our teacher entered and approached the whiteboard, we fell silent. Class commenced with the usual announcements that seem ever essential in the context, but as soon as you step out of a language course you realize were actually rather silly. What I mean by this, is things like the oh-so-important tasks of writing down the correct date (a tough feat I must admit in a country where they days of the week are classified in a totally different fashion than in America and the date is also written peculiarly as compared to my patriotic American roots), or discussing in particular detail the state of the local weather, information which could be gleaned from a weather report on the television, computer, or newspaper, but I dare say would probably be understood less fully and without as much confidence that we are using the correct word for flood, or winds, or the precise adjective to describe the state of the rain.

But alas, I digress. I was sitting innocently in class taking down the date when the word "night" somehow came up. The teacher began to parse the word with the class and I confidently aided her.

"What letter is at the end of the word?"

"!ה"

"How do you say it as a plural?"

"!לילות"

"What is its gender?"

"Feminine!"

"No, masculine."

* My heart went C...R...A...C...K*

"W-H-A-T-?-!-!-!-!-!"

I must admit, my dear reader, that if I were an individual who condoned the practice of cursing this would have been the place to let loose a metric ton of expletives. Anyway, in the end my teacher laughed at me, pitied me, and tried to console me with a favorite saying of the locals here "?מה לעשות" " which means "What to do?"

In conclusion, a little piece of my heart died that day. I can't even fully put in to ink, but something in me cracked. The unfairness of it all, the nonsensical nature of it, the lack of logic, and just the pure difficulty of understanding it. I felt something rather strange; I felt so defeated, deflated, and hopeless, And of course ridiculous. I always feel ridiculous. I don't think I'll ever forget that day, or the way I felt.

 It was like I had finally mastered riding a bicycle without the training wheels in my backyard and the first time I set out on the street filled with the confidence that I knew how to handle myself of this wondrous machine . And then, I were to crash and fall within mere moments of taking off. Why? Because my backyard was grass, and I had no idea how to ride on asphalt. 

Well there you have it, I will get over it one day I suppose, and use "לילה"  like the best of them. But I thought it important to document this event, and remember how despondent and betrayed  I felt by the seemingly sinister language.

And just to add insult to injury, Hebrew doesn't even have a saying or expression for "Throw in the towel."

And frankly, that's what I want to do sometimes, just throw in the towel.

יום אחד אני יודעת שאני ארגיש טוב ונוח עם שפת-העברית אבל אני גם יודעת שלפני היום הזה יגיע יהיו הרבה ימים קשיים ורגעים מתסקילים. באמת מה לעשות

Translation: One day, I know I will feel good and comfortable with the Hebrew language, but I also know that before that day arrives there will be many days of hardship and moments of frustration, Really, what to do?

Yours Etc,

Shira

Improvements :)

Hello,

I thought I should take advantage of my last night of vacation to write on this blog (even though my book is looking rather tempting...)

All is well here. I'm definitely in a more frustrated stint with my Hebrew at the moment. Basically I am at a stage where I understand some, and my reading is getting faster and better, but if someone expects me to answer them, and actually conjugate something I'm like "Ummm, I'm good thanks?"

Something else really frustrating is when I see a word and ask what it means, and then after I look it up I realize I already know it. So embarrassing! I often wish that the first time I see a word it engraved itself in my mind. Wouldn't that be awesome? My head could be like a three-dimensional dictionary with words and images associated with them leaping off the walls and swimming in the brain matter...

But things improve, and time moves on. The months feel like weeks, and the people are like flies...just kidding, nobody is too annoying at present. ;)

Some improvements from a few months ago:

*I now mostly understand when a store clerk is asking if he/she can help me, so I  know how to answer him/her that I'm doing fine, thank you. This is opposed to not so long ago when I would enter a store and stare determinedly at my feet pretending I heard no one asking me anything.

*I'm not as afraid to be left in a parking lot or by a shop as I used to be, because by now in general I can gather when someone is addressing me, and vaguely filter all the dialogue around me for key words like "danger", "fire", etc. However, it is still terrifying to be in a mall with the knowledge that I might not actually know if an emergency was going on. Imagine: the speaker announcement would probably be in Hebrew, the signs would  be in Hebrew, the marked exits would be in Hebrew. I would have to rely on seeing throngs of people running to know if I was in danger. Quite a scary thought actually.

*I now recognize some of the words and sentences I learn in class on the street. But the sad reality is that people here, much like people in America, and probably most places in the world, don't all always speak correctly. This is on the one hand very devastating and difficult as a learner of the language, but on the other hand also rather funny. Many natives are very amused by my looks of deep concentration and then burst into giggles when I tell them my furrowed brow was because someone said "Chamesh Shekel" when it should have been "Chamisha shkalim." (In Hebrew there is gender and number for words, and those are different ways to say 5 units of Israeli currency. However, since the word for the currency is a male word, the numbers need to be male as well. And then there is also a rule for how to make it plural depending on if the amount ends in a 0 or not.)

Lastly I would like to share a funny insight my elder sister had and shared with me. Today we had to go to an office to get our university diplomas recognized and when we entered the building the guard asked us "where are you going?" in Hebrew. My sister always does all the talking (thank G-d!) and it took her a moment to conjure up the name of the office we were going to (in part, no doubt, because my father's handwriting on our page of directions was not the easiest to decipher). In the end the guard switched to English actually, but anyway, after this I was talking with my sister and we were discussing those moments in a foreign language where someone asks you a basic question like "where are you going?" and all the sudden it's like this big philosophical issue. Who am I? Where is my life going? Where Should I be? And it's very humerous because these are simple questions being asked, and yet when you have to think to answer (because you're sorting through language files in your brain) sometimes it feels like the questions are deeper.

Alright, time for me to stop boring the masses. I bid every reader, as always, good night, morning, or afternoon.

מה לעשות? בחיים שלי יש הרבה דרכים! כל יום אני שואלת עצמי "מה לעשות? מי אני?" עדיין אין תשובות...אבל זה החיים

Translation: What to do? My life has a lot of paths/ways! Every day I ask myself "What to do?" Who am I?" Still there is no answers...but this is life.

Yours etc,
Shira

The Language of Kindess

Hello,

This is just a quick post to share a cool experience I had today:

I was on my way to the bathroom in a community center and before I got there a women started speaking to me in very fast Hebrew. I was by myself, so clearly she was speaking to me and not someone else. I listened to her attentively, but at first thought she was asking me for charity because the first words I comprehended were חסד "act of kindness" and then she thrust her bag at me. A moment later I caught the word סידור "prayer book" and realized she was asking me to hold her bag while she used the bathroom so she wouldn't have to bring her prayer book in the bathroom with her. (Jewish people have laws regarding the proper treatment of prayer books, and one of them is that it is prohibited to bring them into bathrooms.) Anyway, I of course agreed to hold it for her, and she was very grateful. When she came out she said some nice things to me and I said לילה טוב "goodnight!"

I just wanted to share that because I thought it was so cool that I got to help a woman, and all in Hebrew! :)

היום למדתי שאפשר לעזור לאנשים אפילו שאני לא מדברת עברית כל כך טוב. השפה של חסד יש לה מילים אחרות.
Translation: Today I learned that it is possible to help people even if my Hebrew is not so good. The language of kindness has different words.

Yours etc,
Shira