Stick ‘em up

Israeli schoolkids tend to mark the passing seasons with new recess pastimes.

For instance, as spring gives way to summer, Israeli boys - with a final, loving glance – put their prized collections of marbles (aka gulot, for the Hebraically-oriented among you) away on the shelf.

Because now it’s time for… apricot pits. (Here in our neighborhood, they’re known as gogo’im, but apparently, they go by other names elsewhere. What are they called in your community?)

Yes, apricot pits.

As is always the case this time of year, elementary school boys across the country spend all their free time kneeling in the dust as they flick, roll, and toss gogo’im. (The objective and precise rules of the game continue to elude me. Please consult your local authority for details.)

<interesting cultural note> This is one of those charming and ironic anachronisms of Israeli life: Seeing as the Tzena (the Austerity period of the 1950’s) has B”H been over for some time, one would assume that most parents can now afford to purchase store-bought marbles – as evidenced by the fact that the boys play with them all winter. And yet, every summer like clockwork, the kids ditch the real thing in favor of the poor man’s ersatz substitute… </note>

Meanwhile, over on the girls’ side of a certain school yard, stickers (i.e. madbeikot  - not to be confused with stickerim, which generally refer to bumper stickers specifically) are currently the latest craze – especially in the younger grades.

Unlike gogo’im, which, let’s face it, are kind of dull to look at, madbeikot come in many different sizes, shapes, colors, and varieties.

Thus, the Our Shiputzim Editorial Board is very proud to present:

The Official Stickers Lexicon

Note: For full accuracy and authenticity, try deliberately mispronouncing each of the following in mileil (i.e. with the accent on the first syllable) instead of in the grammatically-correct milra (i.e. with the accent on the final syllable).

Pushtim: Classic, flat stickers. From the word pashut (פשוט) – i.e simple or plain.

Badim: Soft, almost fabric-like stickers. From the word bad (בד) – i.e. cloth or material.

Boltim: Puffy stickers. From the word boleit (בולט) – i.e. protrude.
According to my sources, boltim can be divided into 3 subcategories:

• Kariyot: Regular puffy stickers. From the word karit (כרית) – i.e. pillow or cushion.
• Klickim: Puffy stickers that make a “clicking” sound when one squeezes them.
• Gulot: Small, rounded stickers that resemble, in the words of one expert, “half a marble.” From the word gulah (גולה) – i.e. marble (see above).

What do the girls do with their stickers?

Well, whether it’s during recess or after school, they can be found poring over each other’s sticker books as they engage in the time-honored ritual known as “trading” in English and “switching” in Heblish…

Have gogo’im and madbeikot made their annual appearance in your neighborhood yet?

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P.S. The latest Kosher Cooking Carnival is available here. Special thanks to Northern Lights for including my ganache-covered brownies.

The Heblishization of the Megilah: The Sequel

As any professional translator could tell you, if you don’t want your translation to “sound” like a translation, you need a translator whose native tongue is the target language.

Yet, strangely enough, last year, I chose to ignore this cardinal rule and translated the third perek of Megilat Esther into Heblish all by myself.

And it showed.

Because my translation included words like “ministers” – an expression which no self-respecting native Heblish speaker would ever use and certainly doesn’t appear in any authoritative Heblish dictionary.

Thus, when OOMFNHS (=one of my favorite native Heblish speakers) graciously volunteered to help me with this year’s Heblish translation of the fifth perek, I immediately took him up on his kind offer.

One final note: For authentic results when reading the following translation, the traditional Heblish inflection should be used for most of the perek – except for the italicized words, which should be recited in a thick Israeli accent…

And now, without further ado, the Our Shiputzim Editorial Board and OOMFNHS proudly present:

The Official Heblish Translation

of

Megilat Esther - Chapter 5 

(1) And it was on the third day, and Esther dressed the kingdom, and she stood in the inner courtyard of the house of the king, opposite the house of the king. And the king is sitting on the chair of his kingdom in the house of the kingdom, opposite the opening of the house.

(2) And it was when the king saw Esther, the queen, is standing in the courtyard, she carried favor in his eyes. And the king lehosheeted to Esther the gold sharvit that is in his hand, and Esther came close and touched in the head of the sharvit.

(3) And the king said to her, “What is to you, Esther, the queen; and what is your request? Until half of the kingdom, and it will be given to you.”

(4) And Esther said, “If it is good on the king; the king and Haman will come today to the party that I did for him.”

(5) And the king said, “Rush Haman to do the thing of Esther.” And the king and Haman came to the party that Esther did.

(6) And the king said to Esther in the party of the wine, “What is your question, and it will be given to you; and what is your request? Until half of the kingdom, and it will be done.”

(7) And Esther answered and said: “My question and my request.

(8) “If I found favor in the eyes of the king, and if it is good on the king to give my question and to do my request; the king and Haman will come to the party that I will do for them. And tomorrow, I will do like the thing of the king.”

(9) And Haman went out on that day, happy and with a good heart. And when Haman saw Mordechai in the gate of the king, and he did not get up and did not move from him, and Haman was filled on Mordechai chaimah.

(10) And Haman lehitapek’d, and he came to his house. And he sent and brought the people who like him and Zeresh his wife.

(11) And Haman told them the honor of his being rich and most of his sons; and all that the king made him big, and that he carried him on the sarim and the servants of the king.

(12) And Haman said, “Esther, the queen, did not even bring with the king to the party that she did, except for me. And also for tomorrow, I am called to her with the king.

(13) “And all of this is not equal to me; in any time that I am seeing Mordechai, the Jew, is sitting in the gate of the king.”

(14) And Zeresh his wife said to him and all the people who like him, “They will do a tree, fifty amot tall. And in the morning, say to the king, and they will hang up Mordechai on it. And go with the king to the party happy.” And the thing was good in front of Haman, and he did the tree.

¡ɯıɹnԀ ʎddɐH

םירופ חמש!

Heblish: The Accent

It’s one of the biggest controversies to rock the close-knit Heblish academic community.

Namely: Is there such a thing as a Heblish accent?

Indeed, every Heblish journal of record has published countless articles on this topic, and at every Heblish scholarly conference, numerous lecturers have weighed in on the subject.

(What? Try and name ONE Heblish journal that has NOT delved into the topic… :-))

Why is this even an issue?

Well, to paraphrase Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally, it’s just that all Anglo parents are sure their Israeli offspring have flawless American accents, and most American grandparents, at one time or another, have complained that their Israeli grandchildren frequently lapse into unintelligible Heblish.

So you do the math…

Please note that I’m not talking about kids who speak English with thick Israeli accents. You know, the type who can’t help but roll their R’s and say “dis” or “zis” instead of “this”.

Rather, I’m referring to a certain subtle inflection which indicates that although a person speaks English fluently, s/he has Anglo parents and was raised in Israel.

My personal feeling is that not only does this telltale inflection exist, but – despite their Anglo parents’ protestations to the contrary – no Heblish speaker is immune.

Except for the Shiputzim kids, of course. Because did I mention that they all boast flawless American accents?

What’s your take on this extremely pressing and important issue?

__________________

P.S. The latest Haveil Havalim is available here. Special thanks to Risa for including my Top 10 Signs That Your Klitah Is Complete post.

Pre-season talks

{quickly flips through the blog and discovers, with some surprise, that the topic of English classes for dovrei Anglit (literally, English speakers) hasn’t yet been discussed}

Nearly a week into the new school year?

If you’re an Anglo parent of elementary school students, you know what that means.

Yup, that’s right.

It’s time for the annual dovrei Anglit negotiations to begin.

Because as we’re all aware, just because the school offered DAC (=dovrei Anglit classes) for our kids last year, that’s clearly no guarantee that it’ll do so this year.

Moreover, just because all the relevant parties had computed the cost, the number of English speakers per class, and the number of hours per week last year, that’s also no guarantee that the same calculations will continue to apply this year.

And hence, the negotiations.

Of course, in a handful of predominantly Anglo communities, the DAC are par for the course.

Indeed, in some neighborhoods (yes, I’m looking at you, RBS…) where the vast majority of the kids speak English, not only do the schools – partially or even fully - subsidize the DAC, but they start on (gasp!) the very. same. day. as the regular English classes. (Shocking, isn’t it…)

But in most locations, the DAC require a significant financial outlay on the parents’ part and, as noted above, mean that the parents have to spend the first week of each school year haggling with the school and reinventing the DAC wheel. (“That’s strange! These same kids spoke English in 5th grade, and now, look at that, they still speak English in 6th grade! What are the odds?!”)

So, why do we bother, you ask?

Well, the reasons vary from family to family, but basically, most Anglo parents feel that the classes serve as a [relatively] simple way to give our kids an advantage later on in life.

Not to mention the fact that it’s kind of ridiculous for them to sit there, watching their classmates break their teeth as they dutifully repeat, “My name is ____. What is your name? This is a banana. The banana is yellow.”

Admittedly, some English-speaking kids think this is very amusing, but others find it to be extremely annoying.

But either way, it’s a huge waste of time. (One year, together with a friend, one of the Shiputzim kids spent the first week of school – before the negotiations ended and the DAC finally began – painstakingly drawing a detailed map of the school…)

Furthermore, the teachers don’t want the English speakers in their regular English classes. For under such circumstances, even the most well-behaved child will disturb the rest of the class. (See: the aforementioned mapmaking session…)

Not that the DAC teachers have it easy either.

Because, inevitably, the students range from straight-off-the-NBN-flight new olim to veteran Heblish-speakers with thick Israeli accents…

Feel free to use the comment section to vent share your DAC experiences.

Accentuate the positive

According to a recent Arutz7 article:

“Researchers at Haifa University have discovered that non-native speakers of Hebrew understand the language best when it is spoken in their own accent.”

It’s good that the “researchers” have made this brilliant, ground-breaking “discovery”, because every oleh in the country has known about it for years…

For instance, we once had a certain technician here in TRLEOOB*, and as he worked, he had the radio on in the background.

The scene caught YZG’s attention, because the radio wasn’t turned to a music channel.

Instead, the man was listening to a shiur, and YZG immediately recognized the speaker – a noted rabbi and lecturer - by his distinctive Brooklyn-accented Hebrew.

“That’s Rav X, right?” YZG asked rhetorically. “I’ve heard him speak a couple of times. It’s very easy to understand him, no?”

The technician – a native Israeli of Yemenite extraction – shook his head and retorted with a good-natured smile, “Well, maybe for YOU, he’s easy to understand…”

Yet, although I concur with the Haifa University researchers’ basic premise, I must take issue with their conclusion:

“[M]any believe that those learning a language should be taught by a native speaker, in order to learn the correct accent. However, the scientists say, further research may prove that method to be less effective than the teaching of language by an instructor with an accent similar to that of his or her pupils.”

I disagree with this hypothesis, because I think that it’s very important to try and “learn the correct accent,” in the words of the article.

Obviously, those of us who made aliyah as adults will never really lose our American (or other foreign) accents. But one’s klitah (absorption into Israeli society) is likely to be that much smoother, if one doesn’t sound like one is straight off the boat the NBN flight.

Your thoughts?

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*TRLEOOB=the real life equivalent of our blog