Hebrew Lessons in Cyberspace

Yom sheni, 9 Elul 5772.

Flash cards.  I don't know if they help, actually.  But they don't hurt.

It's the month of Elul -- and besides trying to get our act together spiritually before Rosh Hashanah, it is also a time when Jews start putting together the list of "Things I'm Finally Going to Improve.  Really.  This Year for Sure."  There can be no doubt that for the average oleh, the hardest struggle and the most important task is learning the Hebrew language.

There are no quick fixes.  People who immerse are much more likely to learn the language than people who live in communities of their linguistic peers.

Yeshiva Bochur saying "Lehitra'ot" to a favorite teacher at the Kibbutz Sde Eliyahu Ulpan at which he worked and learned for five months.

People who get jobs in the Israeli mainstream will learn faster, too.  "You want to learn Hebrew?" asked one friend.  "Go into business."  This includes kids in Israeli schools and soldiers.

Stunt Man and a friend from the Old Country barely speak pure English anymore.  "Or I'm going to Ireland, or I'm going to America after the army."  That is actually good Hebrew grammar.

For those of us (like the Dearly Beloved and me) who break all the rules of language immersion, staying in our little linguistic ghettos, working in our country of origin (either by commuting or by working on the internet in our mamaloshen), patience and persistence remain our most important tools.

There are a few additional tools, however, presented by individuals and organizations with the goal of helping the oleh to integrate as quickly as possible.  Lots of these tools cost money -- and some of them are so famous, they don't need my little blog to help them out.  Some are free, and for most people in my income tax bracket, free is a really good option.  Here is a sample of what is available out there in Cyberspace.



Ami Steinberger and Company at Ulpan La-Inyan make the experience of learning Hebrew as organic as possible, with topics that feel natural, using expressions and words that will come up in everyday situations.  Ulpan La-Inyan also teaches in a very natural way, the way a child learns language, rather than inundating the student with piles and piles of grammar laws.  Ami is an expert in Hebrew grammar -- so it is available.  Just not all-consuming of every last brain cell -- a fact which keeps his program fun, and effective.

Be sure to check out the Ulpan La-Inyan website, for more free stuff, and for the best ulpan available in Israel, when you are ready to get what you pay for.

Jacob Richman has made it his one-man mission to offer as many free aids to Hebrew language and cultural education as possible.  From online Torah to Jewish history and holidays, from recipes and radio stations to kashrut and clipart, Jacob's "Hot Sites - Jewish" is an aliyah resource to be visited again and again.



Another interesting website is Learn Hebrew Pod: Hebrew That Goes With You.  While the free lessons are actually a very nice sales pitch for the course, one can get a great deal even from these few free lessons.  The method of Hebrew conversation flowing more-or-less seamlessly with English translation is a refreshing approach when my mind is tired from more intensive study.

And if you haven't a lot of time each day to devote to learning the language, but want to feel "in the know" with a word or phrase added daily to your repertoire, you can also check out Transparent Language's "Word of the Day" in Hebrew, or of course, Ulpan La-Inyan's "Daily Dose" featured word or phrase, with detailed etymological explanations.

YouTube has lots of video clips from TV series and commercials in Hebrew.  I especially like the ads.  Good ads are often little short plays -- so one can feel a sense of accomplishment in finally understanding the little story in a one minute (or shorter) format, that can be paused and replayed as necessary.



Finally, Hebrew language study is never as much fun as when it's sarcastic political commentary, with English subtitles (for clarity.  But don't forgo the opportunity to listen without paying attention to the subtitles, just to test yourself).  Caroline Glick's Latma TV is an exceptional example of the genre.  Wicked enjoyment.



I tell everyone that I'll be in ulpan till I'm eighty.  (I can finally say this well enough in Hebrew to make Israeli young people laugh.  This makes me cool in two languages.  Woo-HOO.)  Please feel free to share with me any sites you have that will fill the gaps between enough money for ulpan tuition.  I wouldn't want to disappoint Ami and my other instructors when I finally get back to the classroom.

Now if I can just lose those last five kilos before Yom Kippur...

Politically Correct Hebrew Ulpan

Yom shishi, 1 Sivan 5771, Rosh Chodesh Sivan.

I love efficiency.  It delights me when I can accomplish two things in one shopping trip.  Three practically gets me dancing.  I feel the same way about objects.  I have no use for pointless dustables, however lovely.  (It took the Dearly Beloved nearly half our marriage to figure this out.)  Ah!  But give me a thing of beauty that is a functional joy forever...  and I am ecstatic.

An objet d'art that is merely lovely is very nice to look at in a gallery, in other people's houses, or in a store.  (They can keep it, as it's usually too expensive.  I'll just enjoy it when I pop by.  That's why they call it a "store.")  Like everybody else who lives in our apartment, a piece of art will be more greatly appreciated if it earns its keep.

What follows, before I get to the point (yes, actually, there is a point) is a short visual excursion through Ruti's favorite functional art.

Art from the Armenian Quarter of the Old City.

Function.  This one can stay.

Art from an artist formerly-from-Gush-Katif.

After this challah is sliced, it will be so happy being passed around the table on this beautiful platter.

One of my few family heirlooms.  Quite a story.  Russian prince; sunken ship; Pekingese dog.  I'll tell it to you sometime.

Its functionality as a Shabbat salt cellar keeps it from being stored in the cellar.

Even technology and office supplies needn't be ugly.

Beautiful!

And spiritually functional.

Such fine lines!

AND she works for a living.  Definitely NOT stuck in a drawer.

Even cute is acceptable...

...when it has a purpose.

My favorite functional art.  Lovely, and made in Israel...

As I said, it took the Dearly Beloved a while to figure me out.  But he finally got it.

...and it guards my precious rings.  What more could a girl want?

Okay.  What does this have to do with ulpan?  Or political correctness?

There is a group I am going to research a little more later.  (It is Erev Shabbat, after all.)  The group is called "Artists 4 Israel."  These days, that is so much more than a refreshing group name, as an increasing number of the "creative enlightened" decide to share their political opinion that Israel is the greatest evil on the face of the Earth.  Artists 4 Israel will come to Israel, will perform or paint for people over the Green Line, will stand with Israel as she does her best to survive, while all about her are losing their heads.

So Artists 4 Israel led me to this very clever video, which explains in careful Hebrew (with Hebrew subtitles as well as English translation) exactly what "the territories" are, and to whom they belong.  Fancy that!  Entertainment, history, and ulpan.  And it's all politically correct.  (Or politically corrected.)  Art meets function.  And Ruti is very, very happy.



Chodesh tov, and Shabbat shalom!

"Anachnu lomdim Ivrit b'yachad." *

Yom sheni, 9 Tamuz 5770.

One of the keys to surviving comfortably in Israel is spending time -- for some of us, a LOT of time -- in ulpan.

As in most families, there is a division of labor, to make the household run smoothly.  For instance, I learn Hebrew for us, and the Dearly Beloved earns the money to pay for the classes.  I benefit from his expenditure; and he benefits from the words and grammar I bring home.  Today, we had a real breakthrough, as I was gratified to see that he is grasping some of the lessons I have tried to impart.

I called him from the Tachana Merkazit (Central Bus Station) to explain why I was going to be late coming home.

"Your wife is a moron," I explained.  "I rode all the way to the Tachana Merkazit, forgetting to get off at the Klal Building so I could do our banking.  So I had to walk back."

Ever mindful of shoring up my self-esteem, he chided me.  "This is the second time today you have called yourself a moron," he said.  "You are not a moron."  He paused, to let his words sink in.  "You are a moronah.  In Hebrew, it would be 'moronah.'  Because you're a 'she.'"

As I pointed out in class today, the only way we can make it in Israel is to work as a team.

Thank you, Honey.

Take advantage of the free classes every oleh receives when you make aliyah.  By all means!  But when you are finished with that, and want to really "get" the language, deep in your kishkes, take as much Ulpan La-Inyan as you can afford.  It's more than worth it.  (Check into the options for taking courses before you make aliyah, as well!

* "We are learning Hebrew together."

Get the right map!

Yom chamishi, 22 Iyar 5770.

One of the cool things about being in ulpan is that I get to meet really interesting new Jews every eight weeks.  One of my classmates is Fern Reiss; and when she and her husband found some spare time before Pesach, they decided to create a really wonderful map of Jerusalem.  (I would like to learn to use so-called spare time this productively.)

Here is the Maps Jerusalem video to whet your appetite for a really great map, with all of the truly important features.  (If for some reason you cannot see this video, it's worth spending the four minutes to chase it down at http://www.mapsjerusalem.com/.)  Can you say "CHAMOOD ME'OD"?)



It shows you where the truly important locations are.  Like shuls.  Like restaurants.  Like bathrooms.  (Duh.)  And you can even order it online, before you need it.  It's well-made, and affordable!  ORDER HERE!

Looking forward to seeing you when you visit...  and you can be sure that if you live here already, it's still a must-have item.

By the way, today is "Reserve Soldiers Appreciation Day."  Hug a soldier on milueim.  (Okay -- only if he's yours...)

Glossary:
CHAMOOD ME'OD: very cute
Milueim: Duty for reserve soldiers in the IDF

Amazing, but true.

Yom sheni, 17 Shevat 5770.

Warning:  If you are at all bothered by the concept of G-d taking the time to play with His creatures, this post is not for you.

Over the course of more than twenty years, I have become convinced that Hashem involves Himself in the day-to-day minute details of every life, including my own.

I also believe He has a sense of humor.  And I believe that He takes enjoyment of some sort in teasing His children.

I have been attending a wonderful ulpan called Ulpan La-Inyan for almost two months.  On the first day of class, we encountered several new words to express delight.  One of those words was "מדהים."  Transliterated as "madhim," this word means "amazing."  Great word, no?  Couldn't make it stick in my brain, no matter how hard I tried.  But as I stepped out of my classroom and made my way home via Emek Refaim Street, the word jumped out at me on the side of a truck.

The advertising slogan says: "Amazing what is possible to create from the simple things in life."

 

Naturally, I wanted to digitally trap this image, to add to my growing collection of Hebrew signs that I can actually understand.  But getting this photo was to be an eight-week obsession -- and I couldn't help but think that Hashem was having a bit of fun with me.

Several times, I could see the truck in the distance, but not close enough to get a good shot.

Or another truck would viciously move into the path between me and my quarry.

There was the day that two of the Strauss trucks went by...  and I couldn't unravel my camera from my handkerchief and keys.  "Two trucks, Hashem?  Do You have to rub it in?"

There was the day that I decided not to take my camera at all, because who wanted to take photos on such  a bad-weather day?  When we arrived at the pharmacy, there was my madhim truck, sitting in the parking lot, just waiting for a photo shoot.  "Thanks, G-d.  I got the message:  carry the camera always."

And there was the day I was on the bus, heading out the front gate of the yishuv, just as you-know-which-truck came in the gate to restock our makolet.  Where it would no doubt be sitting still for several minutes.  But I was on my way to ulpan.  "Thanks, G-d," I murmured.  "I am glad you are paying attention to me."

I discovered that there are plenty of Tenuva trucks on the roadways -- far more than their dairy competitors -- and that they like to sit still and pose for the camera.  But I did not give them the satisfaction.

Finally, I decided to try an end-run.  I pulled up the Strauss site on my computer.

It wasn't as clear and colorful as I might have liked -- but at least it took the edge off of the obsession.

I went back to a more-or-less normal life.  I had to admit that I was grateful to Hashem.  After all, I was so ready to photograph that truck at a second's notice that I got a lot of other interesting shots.  (I plan to show them to you in future posts.)  And with this philosophy, one does feel an intimate connection with one's Creator.  Why wait for illness or tragedy, G-d forbid, to remember that He is there for us?  He is capable of creating connection in myriad ways, after all.  If Hashem is up for a bit of teasing, I'm game.

Like any good father, He knows when the fun's gone on long enough.  Today He presented the prize.

Amazing.

Glossary:

Ulpan: an intensive Hebrew language-immersion course

Madhim: If you don't have this one by now, you weren't paying attention.

Yishuv: small community; settlement

Makolet: small grocery store

Strauss and Tenuva: two competing dairies

Ulpan beckons yet again. Five months is not enough.

Yom sheni, 18 Elul 5769.

On Shabbat, I had one of those "wake up call" conversations you can only have with a little kid.

The Dearly Beloved and I take our usual afternoon stroll.  As we pass the beit knesset, he decides to join the line of men for one of the mincha minyanim; so I wait for him in the lovely gazebo outside.  My peaceful reverie is pleasantly interrupted by a small boy of about five or six who joins me.  We exchange Shabbat greetings. While he busies himself with a melting candy for several minutes, I continue to watch a line of very tiny ants making their way across the floor.

After a bit, he comes over and sits next to me.  I ask him to remind me if the ants are called "nemalim" in Hebrew.  I think that he tells me that he isn't sure exactly what they are called, because he is only in kindergarten...  but my Hebrew really is lacking, and he is capable of jamming a lot of words into a sentence.  I know I could get this language, if people would only be kind enough to speak in three- or four-word sentences, enunciating like the Pimsleur lady, and speaking very slowly...

We exchange names.  His is Yeshaya.  I tell him it is a strong name.

When we hit a bump in the conversation, I ask him to repeat, slowly.  "Can't you hear well?"  he asks me politely.

"I can hear okay; but I don't understand Hebrew very well.  I am a new immigrant."  I use this explanation a lot.  It has worked very well as my excuse for not comprehending completely, not being able to make my point clearly.  Not only am I forgiven, but I also get that heartwarming "atta-girl" that makes new olim strong.  You know:  "Way to go!  We're so proud of you!  Thanks for making aliyah!"  That is the response I am used to receiving.

Until now.

"You are a new immigrant?  When did you make aliyah?"  he asks.  Seeing that I am having a bit of trouble understanding -- he lisps, after all! -- he repeats his question, slightly differently.  "How long have you lived in Israel?"

"Almost two years."

"Do you mean 'two weeks'?  Because two weeks is new."

"No, I mean two years," I say, happy to know the difference between "shvu'ayim" and "shnatayim."

He patiently, earnestly explains to me the facts of life.  "Then you're not a new immigrant.  Two years is not new."

Well, I can see that we are talking a third of his lifetime here.  I can see his point.  But I try to explain how much harder it is to learn a language when you are not a little kid.  He accepts this, and changes the subject.

"Do you have a baby?  My baby brother just had his brit."

"Mazal tov!" I say to him, happy to be on more comfortable ground.  "What is the baby's name?"

"D'vir," he responds.

"D'vir?"  I ask, trying to think of its meaning.  I mean, every word in a foreign language has at least five words that sound similar, but can cause major embarrassment if you guess the wrong one.  Dvar?  Dovair?  Diboor...?

"Kdosh ha-kdoshim," he says, patiently.  The Holy of Holies.  Something to do with the Sanctuary in the Holy Temple?  My face clearly registers a question.  "Didn't you learn Torah?" he asks.  "Are you a convert?"

I'm still not trapping all the words.  He uses the verb form of the word "convert," and I have not encountered it before; yet I slowly am getting the root of the word, and therefore the meaning.  But he is six, and is not going to wait for the concept to develop in my mind.

"Was your mother Jewish?"

I am amused by this little tiny man asking me all these intimate questions.  But at the same time, I am enjoying the exercise.  And there is nothing like chatting with a little stranger to elicit honesty.  "Yes, I am a convert,"  I answer him.  By now, I have translated his earlier questions in my mind.  "But I was a convert since I was 32 years old.  I have learned a lot of Torah.  I just learned it in English!"

"How old are you now?"

"I am 51."

"You're older than my parents."

Yes, I have no doubt.  I am older than a sizable chunk of the population of the yishuv.  And most of my peers on the yishuv are the grandparents of six-year-olds and new babies, rather than their parents.

He chats a while longer about the new baby, about ants, and about gan (kindergarten).  He doesn't seem to notice that I am mostly making appreciative noises, rather than fully comprehending.

When the Dearly Beloved approaches the gazebo, I introduce them, and take my leave of my new friend.

"I leave you for ten minutes, and you take up with another man," the Dear One quips.

My answer is incongruous.  "I've gotta get back to ulpan."

No more excuses.  The Yeshayas of the yishuv are not impressed.

Haveil Havalim #233 is up at JoshuaPundit.  Hopefully the smoke damage wasn't too great, Josh, and everybody is back at home, safe and sound.

Glossary:
Beit knesset:  synagogue
Mincha minyan:  quorum of 10 men for afternoon prayers
Pimsleur:  excellent recorded language course
Yeshaya:  G-d is salvation
Olim:  new immigrants to Israel
Brit:  ritual circumcision, performed usually on the eighth day of a newborn boy's life
D'vir:  sanctuary, inner chamber
Yishuv:  small community
Ulpan:  language immersion course