Home OP-ED Speak Slowly, and I Will (May) Understand

Speak Slowly, and I Will (May) Understand

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[img]96|left|||no_popup[/img]Dateline Jerusalem“Ani medeberet k'tzaht ivrit” is translated as “I speak a little Hebrew”. This week I had my first two lessons at the Hebrew Ulpan language school at my English-speaking synagogue. I am so excited to finally be learning Hebrew. Although I have been living in Israel five years, “Ani lo mevina ivrit” (“I do not understand Hebrew”). I can read block letters of the alphabet, but script is a total mystery to me. However, this week we learned how to write Hebrew letters in script and other basics of the language. I can say “Ani amerikite v israelit” (“I am American and Israeli”). Until now, I could only say “Ani ha iti shoteret” (“I was a police officer”) and “Ani orechet din” (“I am an attorney”). A male would say these sentences differently, using “mevin” instead of “mevina”, “amerikai” instead of “amerikite”, “israeli” instead of “israelit”, “shoter” instead of “shoteret”, and “orech din” instead of “orechet din.” But, having masculine and feminine endings to words is not unlike other languages.

My city of Rehovot means “streets” even though in ancient times, Rehovot meant “broad places,” coming from Genesis 26:22. The word then was from the root “rahav” meaning “broad.” I have recently looked for a new apartment. Some of the websites are only in Hebrew. I go to “Google Translate” and the page is translated into English. So when the city of Rehovot is translated, it shows up as “Streets.” Most of the street names in Rehovot recognize important people. Because there are so many people to name them after, every few blocks the name of a street changes, as well as the English transliteration of the Hebrew of that name. Therefore, it is not unusual to find one intersection with four names or different ways to spell the names. But because Google also translates the name of the street from Hebrew into English, the street will lose its Israeli name and become, for example, “Stars of David,” “First President,” and “Way to Build.” I would be better off locating the apartments for rent in Hebrew than in the English translation. There is no street sign that will say “First President.” It will say “HaNasi HaRishon” as the English transliteration of the Hebrew, along with the name in Hebrew and in Arabic letters.

Hebrew also can get confusing when “he” is “hu,” “she” is “he,” “who” is “mi,” and “me” is “li.” I hope I just did that correctly. I now know why most Israelis ask me to speak in English when I attempt Hebrew. My American accent totally distorts the pronunciation of Hebrew. They cannot understand me. For example, the word for “no” is “lo.” I have been pronouncing the “o” like a “long o”, while native Israelis pronounce it more like a “luh,” but there are no “uh” or “ih” sounds in Hebrew. I just can't seem to get my tongue to say “lo” correctly, just like I could never roll my “r's” when speaking Spanish. I have a difficult time making the sounds “tz” and “ch,” just as I found it difficult to say “ch” when speaking German. People around the world claim English is one of the hardest languages in the world. I think Hebrew is more difficult. Spanish and French use English letters, but Hebrew has an alphabet all of its own.

Before I came to Israel, I was told that most people over 40 years of age will be illiterate after completing an intensive 5-month, 5 days a week, 5 hours a day ulpan. My ulpan is only for 3 months, 2 days a week, and 1½ hours each time we meet. Obviously, this ulpan only is to help me learn words and simple sentences to get by in Hebrew. Anything is better than nothing. Maybe the experience will be similar to becoming religious. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn. Eventually I made the decision to return to Torah Judaism. It only took me decades to do so. Perhaps with Hebrew, the more I learn, the more I will want to learn. Eventually, over decades, maybe I will be able to speak Hebrew. At my age, I do not have too many decades to practice.

L'hitraot. Shachar That means “See you later, Dawn.”