You speak Hebrew: now what? Top 5 tips to keep on learning!

Full disclosure: my kids laugh if I say the words “I’m bilingual” out loud.  And with good reason.

I’ll be the first to admit that Hebrew is not, and never will be, my first or best language.  I probably won’t ever be as good as they are (even if my vocabulary is technically better than theirs, in terms of sheer number of roots and words I know).

It’s true that I have an accent, and that’s never going away.  I can’t help feeling insulted when people hearing my accent, though they’re trying to be helpful, switch into their terrible English.  What, my terrible Hebrew isn’t good enough for you?

It’s true that I will probably never be comfortable with a fast blast of Hebrew shouted at me over the phone or from across the room.  Stand in front of me, let me see your lips move, let me see your body language.

But still.

What has most made me realize I actually have become bilingual is that

Hebrew: the shame of olim (and 6 easy ways to conquer it).

Are you ashamed of your Hebrew?

If you live in Israel, you know exactly how good your Hebrew is.  If you’re not sure, Israelis will be quick to set you straight… but they won’t do it directly.

The slippery-slope compliment

Here’s what happens to me these days:

Israeli:  “How long have you been in Israel?” / “When did you make aliyah?”

Me:  “A year and a half.”

Israeli:  “Oh, your Hebrew is good.”

Sound like a compliment???

It isn’t.  At least, not exactly.  In fact, I’ve been demoted. 

The perfect pilot trip to Israel: 10 things you MUST include

 

Planning aliyah?  Mazel tov!  Or rather, b’shaah tovah, another common expression when something great (like a baby’s birth) is about to happen, but hasn’t yet.

A year ago, we had only the faintest idea of where we wanted to end up.  Today, we’re living here.  And we’re apparently experts on Life in Israel.  Having spoken to lots and lots of olim, I now have a way better idea of how to plan a pilot trip and what to expect while you’re over here.

Please note:  Nefesh b’Nefesh has a great site, where they have comprehensive information about where to go and what to do on a pilot trip, and what serious things you should consider.  These things are important, and they are written by professionals who work in that business full-time.  I am not a professional.  I can only write from my own perspective.

I’m going to leave it up to you to put together your list of Places to Include on the pilot trip.  It’s important, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.  I’m talking about steps that will help you FEEL the country and get to know what it’s like to live here on a daily basis.  If we were coming today, these ten things would be among my top priorities.

1) Supermarket visit – ideally more than one. ** WE DID THIS

We actually spent a lot of time in supermarkets on our pilot trip.  I was fascinated with seeing what brands there were, and all the different types of meat and dairy products.  Another store that’s fun to visit is

My mivta (and a great shopping tip!)

Walked into the hardware store to buy a replacement light bulb last week, when suddenly, my Hebrew FAILED. 

(Understandable after a week of Purim-related festivities.   I could barely speak English by that point!)

“Ani mechapeset... (I’m looking for...)” - blank, sigh, “kazeh (like this),” i said, giving up and holding up the defunct bulb.

(Yes, of course we have gotten smart and learned to bring whatever it is we want with us to the store.)

 

Good Immigrant Habit #77:  When buying something, try to bring along one of the “something” with you when you go to the store.  If you don’t have one, bring a picture of it.  Or a dictionary.  Be prepared to wave your arms and flex your fingertips to show exactly how high, how big, how long.  And be prepared; even with all that preparation, they still may not understand.

Cheerful sales dude, “Ah, mivta Amerikani”  Big, knowing salesguy smile.

Ha!  I thought.  I’ve broken through!  At last, a salesperson is helpfully telling me the name of what I’m looking for! 

I nodded, as if to say, “yes, yes, my good man, go on, lead the way... show me more of these ‘mivta Amerikani’ bulbs.”

Then, as I followed him through the store, I remembered… slowly, it dawned… I knew where I’d heard the word before. 

Mivta = accent.

No, he wasn’t talking bulbs at all...he was just talking about my own lousy Hebrew:

mivta Amerikani

= מבטא אמריקני

(also sometimes  מבטא אמריקאי)

= American accent

Naturally, I didn’t get into a discourse on how I’m not American.  Or how I am Canadian, which really is American, even though what most people here think of as American is the same as what I, in my head, call “United Statesian.”

Nope, I just paid for my bulbs and hightailed it home.