The Darker Side of being a Hybrid

Dear Readers,

It is mid-July and shamefully hot on this side of the planet. The days are long, the nights are cool, and the afternoons are nightmarish. Napping is an excellent use of one’s time, and all physical activities and chores are to be postponed until the nighttime. With all of that grumbling out of the way, it’s also sensationally beautiful every day, the sunshine is sanguine every day, the wildlife is diverse and scampering about in the open, and being on vacation is always so refreshing.

Being on vacation gives one a lot of time to think though, and this writer’s thoughts are all jumbled up. I used to think part of moving was reinventing myself, and it was very valuable to create the new and improved Shira. And while I understand moving presents one with the opportunity for growth and expansion, I also am beginning to comprehend that there is something to hoarding the old aspects of myself and to gaurding the pieces of Shira that just may be more essential than I thought.

There is something comforting about using the same dish I used when I lived in America. It is soothing to see the same pictures on the wall, and reassuring to be staring at the same computer monitor. When I first arrived in my new home I thought I wanted, or rather needed, everything to be new and fresh. but hindsight has taught me that perhaps it’s wise to

hang onto the old as well. I suppose in the beginning it was too painful to see all the mementos and too hurtful to act as I used to. But after nearly a year, it now feels good when I use the objects I used in my old house. It is pleasant when I do the same activities I did there.

Sometimes I get this dark feeling inside of me. It’s not really “homesickness” because I have it while sitting in my home here, but I’ll call it that because it is the closest feeling I can think of. It’s also a little bit similar to homelessness. I reminisce a lot about the places I used to go, the streets I knew like the back of my hand, the supermarkets I could navigate with ease and finesse. I recollect the friendships I nurtured and tended, the buildings I called my second home, and the people  and experiences that shaped and moulded the person I am today. And frankly, I miss them.

Last post I wrote about being a hybrid, focusing on the positive aspects. All those lovely facets exist of course. but they are accompanied by feelings of loneliness, peculiarity, singularity, and the overwhelming feeling of not belonging. I grew up very unique, so I’m used to not fitting in. I was homeschooled and that’s considered strange in mainstream society. I am an orthodox Jew, and grew up being one of the few such individuals in a 100mi radius. The list is extensive of all the things that are uncommon about me and my upbringing. Now, however, I’ve begun to realize that language and culture can be added to the tally. I always had an accent, and I still have one here (if anything I finally sound more American here than I did in America! Go figure). I often used a vocabulary more suitable for books than conversation and I find myself doing that here as well.

One affair that I find particularly vexing is when English words have different usage and meaning here. Sometimes when I say one of the words listed below I get looked at like I’m a martian. I am annoyed because I’m not being ridiculous at all, if I said any of those things in my hometown nobody would bat an eyelash. Really they wouldn’t!

Consider the following brief catalogue:

Word	American meaning	Israeli meaning
Coke	Coca Cola beverage	The Drug. Must say “Cola” if want to drink Coke.
Ice Coffee	Coffee made with milk and ice instead of hot water	A blended iced drink of coffee. Cold coffee is what I have to order for ice coffee.
Tights	What we wear under fancy skirts	Leggings. What the heck?!?!

I always mix up words here, and sometimes I get discouraged and frustrated. I am very gung ho about learning Hebrew and improving my vocabulary, but when I get corrected for the seventh time in two minutes I feel like I’ve had enough. I love to read, and I realize how important it is to read books in Hebrew for language development, but when I have to check with my dictionary for more than 70% of the words on the page I get dispirited. People are always correcting my spelling when I send text messages so I started leaving voice notes instead, but apparently I still pronounce words wrong and it is daunting to hear “what word are you asking about? I’ve never heard that in my life!” The old me would only get that response because I used a word of too high a caliber to be understood by my conversation partner, not because I was botching up a word so badly even Dr. Suess would have trouble understanding me.

I keep going all the time, and I’m up for the adventure. The more I spend time with people here, the more different I realize I am. I had theorized that my idiosyncrasies were because I was Israeli, but now living amongst the Israelis I posit that no, that is just me. I’m learning an awful lot about myself. When people ask me about getting married, I’m really hesitant because I only feel like a shell of myself here. So much of my identity is tangled with immigration still, that I would feel like whoever I dated was just in a relationship with a husk of Shira.

Well, that’s the musings for today. A little bit of nostalgia, a drop of complaining, and a pinch of self discovery. Enjoy the rest of your day or night wherever you are!

הייתי בטיול עם חברות שלי מישוב לפני כמה ימים. היה ממש כיף אפילו שרק הבנתי 60% ממה קרה :) שחינו ואחר כך אכלנו פיצה שהיתה טעימה לגמרי (עם תוספות!)  בנוף מאוד יפה על יד הכנרת. הרגשתי שסוף סוף יש לי כמה חברים בארץ אבל באותו זמן התגעגעתי לחברים שלי בחו"ל. אני חושבת עליהם הרבה ואני זוכרת ימים יפים שהייתי איתם לדוגמה כשהיינו שתינו קפה ביחד או טיילנו. אני עדיין אוהבת אתכם!

Translation: I went on a trip with my friends from the community a while ago. It was really fun even though I only understood 60% of what went on. :) We swam and afterwards ate really delicious pizza (with toppings!) on a beautiful lookout by the Kinneret (sea of Galilee).I felt that finally I have friends in Israel, but at the same time I missed my friends that live around the rest of the world. I think about them often and I remember great days that I was with them, for example drinking coffee together or going on hikes. I still love you guys!

Yours etc, 
Shira

Initial Musings on Being a Hybrid

Hello friends,

I think a quick life update is in order. It is the end of June and I am off for the summer. :)

I completed my time at Midrasha (Seminary) and learned a lot while there. I spent about three or four months there, and I had so many experiences! I lived away from home for the first time (with just one sister, so I think it really ought to count as on my own). I lived on the campus of the school in a dorm. It was fascinating to live with people who weren't my family members. I learned a lot about myself, and how much I am like my parents. I understand this is a very common phenomenon when young adults leave the nest. I also learned that I really am an Israeli-American hybrid, and frighteningly, have been my whole life. 

It's kind of unsettling actually, to feel like I don't really belong in either place. I'm just so Israeli to my American friends. And here in Israel I'm unforgivably American. This came up at Seminary in a couple of different episodes. Once, upon discovering my strong revulsion of Chalva (a deplorable yet popular snack in Israel made from Sesame. Yuck!) a roommate of mine proudly informed me that she had finally found one thing she was more Israeli than me in. Imagine that! I was a little bit taken aback by her comment, especially because she said it so passionately. I guess The Roommates had caught on to my tendency to take short showers (water-saving), eat rich breakfasts (as opposed to just cereal and milk), wash dishes by first lathering soap on all of them and only then washing them (the water-saving way), my bone-deep love of sunflower seeds, and my fondness of wearing sandals for just about every occasion--irregardless of the formality of the function. Most of these habits I'd picked up from my father in America without any concise thought. Of course I picked up just as many quaint American manners from my mother, like waiting in proper lines, saying “excuse me” if I bump into somebody, and not sharing my personal opinions or life advice with strangers I happen upon. In any event, I’ve began to realize that I'm really half--half and it's time to embrace this identity. Not only am a citizen in this country because I am Jewish and chose to return to my homeland, but I've been a citizen since birth! 

This realization has given me a lot to ponder, and in some ways has bolstered my confidence, while in other ways rattled me to the core. This epiphany has aided me in fielding some of people's unwarranted comments and general feeling of foreignness because I feel a really strong right to be here, and also I don't feel the same longing to be "Israeli" that I've seen in many of my friends and acquaintances. I have met people who really feel (or at least seem to me) that the end-all goal is to speak Hebrew “like an Israeli,” and be culturally “Israeli” in everything they do and think and feel. I don't really understand this desire for two reasons:

1)    You can’t help where you were born, in what country, time, or region. It’s not up to you what your mother tongue is, or how many languages are spoken in your home. Why try and pretend or make up for an upbringing that wasn’t yours?

2)    If you moved here for religious reasons, and with a desire to settle the land then just being here and living life here is fulfilling that commandment and/or dream. G-d said live in Israel. G-d didn’t say “be Israeli.” If you are Israeli and you live in Israel—wonderful. Then your culture and language match your region. If you’re not Israeli but live in Israel, well try very hard to learn and use Hebrew (it’s the language of the land), and it is definitely smoother if you understand it’s a different culture than where you came from, but you can’t be “Israeli” if you grew up in a different culture. And it seems painful to keep pushing for this unattainable and sort of silly goal.

Many people talk about doing “Israeli things” and integrating into society as a goal of the highest importance. I’ve even heard of families who come from America and only let their children be friends with Israeli kids and no other Olim children who speak English because they want their kids to be Israeli and not have any problems in society.

From the above example it would seem that it’s the most important thing ever to assimilate into Israeli society. Yet I remain unconvinced. I think it’s important to try and understand it, and not to feel the need to change it. It’s very useful to know what is rude here, and what is expected. I’m not in America anymore and I’ve realized that. Some things that I would modify maybe should not be changed because they have reasons based on how Israel functions, where it’s located on the map, and a whole bundle of other really fantastic reasons that my newbie self has little or no knowledge of.

With all of this I’m still American and I’m not sure why people think that’s such a bad thing. Is the Hebrew-only speaking Sabra fulfilling settling the land of Israel better than I am just because he doesn’t get confused at the bank and doesn’t take two and a half hours to fill out an application? It’s certainly easier for him to live here but I don’t really see how he’s doing anything more than the French Oleh that made Aliyah to be a lone soldier in the IDF, or the family from Britain that moved here to build a life here. We all; are living in a time where we have the privilege and blessing of being able to live in our homeland. We all can reap benefit from this amazing gift.

Anyway, those are my impressions so far. I don’t understand a lot of things I see and hear here, but I’m learning more and more every day. I’m probably writing too much again, so I’ll end here. Hopefully I will write more of my experiences and impressions of living in Jerusalem in the next post. Until then dear readers, be well and I hope everyone everywhere is staying cool.

כשהייתי מדרשה פעם אחת אכלתי עם כמה חברות שלי בדירה שלהן. באמצע הסעודה רציתי להגיד להן שהיה יותר מדי אוכל אז אמרתי "ואי יש הרבה אוכל ואהיה שמנת!" כולכן צחקו עליי ושאלתי "מה? מה אמרתי?" הן הסבירו לי שהאנגלית אמרתי "I am cream" במקום "I'll be fat" מה שהייתי צריכה להגיד היה "אהיה שמנה" :)

Translation: When I was in Midrasha one time I ate with some of my friends in their apartment. In the middle of the meal I wanted to tell them that there was too much food. So I said "Why, I'll be cream!" All of them laughed at me and I asked "what? What did I say?" They explained to me in English that I had said "I'll be whip cream" instead of "I'll be fat." :)

I remain as always, yours etc,

Shira

P.S a few mistakes in the Hebrew I couldn't easily fix because I'm posting from my laptop and I don't have a Hebrew keypad yet. Sorry for all the prefix mistakes/lacks. Also it comes out in a funny color because I type it on my phone and copy and paste from email and a whole bunch of nonsense. I'll work on using a Keyboard next time... Thanks for your patience. 

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