[img]96|left|Shachar||no_popup[/img]Dateline Jerusalem — I am learning Hebrew (Ivrit) finally! Having been off work because of my injuries, I have taken advantage of the time by trying to learn Hebrew. It is embarrassing that after living in Israel for three years I do not know Hebrew. “Ani lo medeberet Ivrit” (I do not speak Hebrew), “aval, ani mevina Ivrit” (but, I understand Hebrew). At least sometimes I understand it, especially if it is spoken slowly.

A religious Jewish Ethiopian girl who works at the local hospital in lieu of doing the army has come to help me out. In Israel, young men and women are required to do the army when they finish high school, but if one is religious, he or she can opt to do the mandatory time working in hospitals or other community service activities. A social worker at the hospital brought the girl to my apartment and translated the first day. Allegedly the girl passed all her high school exams, English included, and so supposedly we could communicate. Needless to say, my almost non-existent knowledge of Hebrew was better than her knowledge of English. My grammar is atrocious, but she was able to understand me, and I actually understood almost everything she said to me. I would say “od pam, bevakasha” (please repeat), and she would repeat words slowly. What a thrill to be able to communicate with her. She complimented me on my ability to understand her.

Starting Slowly, Cautiously

I have learned essentials while sitting in my recliner chair. When someone comes to the “delet” (door) I ask “Mi zeh?” (Who is it?) and then say “Kness” (Enter). At physical therapy, I am able to set the times for my next appointment. In fact, I do it in Hebrew now because when the secretary tells me “Tuesday” in English, she really means “Thursday.” It is a good thing I am given a computer printout of my appointments or I would have shown up on the wrong days. In fact, so far I have not found one Israeli who knows the difference between Tuesday and Thursday when speaking English. When I made an appointment for an ultrasound and x-ray the other day, I was told the wrong time in English. Again, I was saved because the correct time was on a computer printout.

I am also learning slang. When something goes quickly, I say it went “chick-chack.” I am known to say words like “mamash” (quite) and “davka” (spitefully) in just about every sentence, just like a native Israeli (sabra). However, I still do not understand why those words are used all the time, especially when nothing is spiteful when “davka” is used. I have even picked up derogatory words, but won't mention them here.

When asked my occupation by the “rofeh” (doctor), I explained that I am an “orechet din” (female attorney) and that I used to be a “shoteret” (female cop). I tell him that I injured my “katef” (shoulder), “zroa” (arm), and “karsul” (ankle). Then he started speaking Hebrew, and I was completely lost. He should have known better since my pronunciation of Hebrew is scandalous.

Since I have been off work, I have had the opportunity to watch the food channel on television. That has been a boon to my vocabulary. I have become a maven when it comes to knowing words for “ochel” (food). I am even able to read directions in Hebrew on packages and jars of food, and understand recipes in magazines and the newspaper. But that is probably “ki” (because) I am always “rah-ev” (hungry).

I am finding that Hebrew is also like other languages. Although there is a different alphabet, “strange symbols” as someone once described the letters to me, and words are written and read from right to left as opposed to left to right, sounds are similar. For example, rice in Spanish is “arroz” and in Hebrew it is “orez.” Hebrew and English are also alike. Sugar is “sukar” and lemon is “limon” and “kola” is cola. The word for banana is banana, and melon is melon. I can't go wrong. Of course, although that should be the case, I still tend to get things wrong because I usually put emphasis on the wrong syllable.

I believe everything happens for a purpose. If I hadn't injured myself, I would still be working and living in Israel without ever learning the language of the country.

Whether it be “auf wiedersehen” in German, “hasta la vista” in Spanish, or “l'hitraot” in Hebrew, I say to you all, “see you soon.” Shachar