Time to Re-evaluate the Japan-Israel Diplomatic Relations

In my ongoing effort to eat healthily (I should really detail this if I ever have time), I went to the shuk to buy ingredients for this salmon recipe. Let's hope no one in this country ever has to rely on wasabi to survive. It wasn't so much the absence of it in any of the spice stands, it was more the ignorance to its existence in spite of the popularity of sushi here.

Sample exchange:
Benji: "Yesh wasabi?"
Israeli: "Balsami?"
Benji: "I'm outta here."

"Man who catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything.
Except find spice at Shuk HaCarmel."

(It's not fair that Bar Rafaeli gets her own blog label and Mr. Miyagi does not. I should really fix that...)

Speaking of cultural differences and linguistic things that make me laugh, I was talking with my roommate the other day.... You didn't hear? That we're now BFFs? Ok, let's not go overboard but in spite of this incident which will forever live in infamy, we've been getting along much better recently, leading to the shocking decision to extend my lease through June.

Benji: "How do you say 'to cut'?"
Roommate: "Ligzor."
Benji: "Huh?! Why doesn't it sound like 'misparayim' (scissors)? That's not even the same root!"
Roommate: "Why dahz eet have to be deh same wurd?! Eet's like 'plate' and 'to eat'!"
Benji: "Umm...yeah."

Roommate 15
Benji love

Ulpan Adventures....They're Baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With apologies to Fiona Apple, I've been a bad, bad boy. When life gets hectic, the first thing that suffers is Ulpan attendance. It's a horrible shame because as many of my Israeli friends tell me, learning Hebrew should be right at the top of my priority list (somewhere between showering and trying not to laugh when I answer the phone "AH-lo!") Once my job went full-time a few months back, I found that I couldn't attend four long mornings a week and work a full day afterwards. Then the frustration began.

I started a class in the evening but couldn't deal with the teacher. (I found her to be terrible. I missed my dear Dafna and how she talked to me like I was seven.) Then I tried a class in Holon where my Year Course kids live but there were time issues there as well. Last week, I began a class in the Bat Yam Ulpan, a five minute bus ride from my office. Let's hope the game of "musical Ulpanim" has come to an end because I'm not willing to study in Dimona, even if I might learn how to say things like "fallout" and "blast zone."

Umm...this picture isn't in Israel.
Israel doesn't even have nuclear weapons. No, seriously!

Anyway, I know Israel is funny. You know Israel is funny. And nowhere is its hilarity on display more than in a Hebrew class with immigrants from foreign countries (and really, what other kind of immigrants are there?)

So without further ado...it's been too long...LET'S GET IT STARTED!

• Each language has apparently added its own personal flavor to modern Hebrew, says my new teacher. The suffix "nik" or "ist" comes from Russian. Kibbutznik, stand-upist... The slang comes from Arabic. Walla (wow)! Every dirty word that I won't write here because my mother is reading. And English? The suffix "er" like "protectsioner (connected person) " or "mafioner." Good to see that my people are responsible for the language of organized crime.
  
• Does it bother anyone else that there isn't a word for...well..."that" in Hebrew? How the hell do you compare things in this country? What do you prefer, "zeh" or "zeh"? Well, I think the answer is pretty clear.
• During our Tu B'Shvat lesson, the teacher talks about Israel's constant water shortage and how the Kinneret is always in "mee-nus, just like our bank accounts." Hey, teach! Way to encourage us immigrants to build a life here! Better not close my Citibank account anytime soon. (By the way, this was also the lesson where I learned the word "photosyntheza.") Keeping with the nature theme, we learn how to say different insects like "jukim (cockroaches)". Someone just started singing "la cucaracha", much to the delight of the weird Peruvian chick in the back.
• Have you ever attended a Tu B'Shvat Seder? I've never seen half these fruits in the States! I swear to G-d, I think they just put stuff out to fool the Americans. ("Hey, Shmulik! See that old sponge I put on the tray? Fred and Tanya are EATING it!")
• The South American is now teaching the Russian Spanish. That's arguably the funniest thing I've seen since "The Karate Kid" was on Telemundo.

"Daniel-san! Yo quiero Taco Bell!"

• Some Russian woman just walked in with a fanny pack (ech omrim "fanny pack? Fenny peck?) That has GOT to be the official sign of middle age. When you see me walking down the street with a fanny pack wrapped around my waist, feel free to invite my loved ones over for an intervatsia.
• Upon learning the word "tarnegolet (rooster)", the class erupts into a passionate argument about whether or not there is such a thing as a female rooster, proceeding to re-enact this classic scene in Hebrew.
  
  

  Who's having sex with the tarnegol?
  

More Ulpan adventures coming soon!

My Go-to Move....and ISRAEL'S NEW MATZAV

Hello, my loyal readers-excited for Shabbat? I sure am-it's been a busy week and I need to relax...and maybe write a few more posts. I know, I only gave you the ridiculous t-shirt this week. I feel bad about it too.

With so much going on with work, Ulpan, and other things, I've not had much time to follow the news or do much in the evenings (and therefore, find anything to write about.) It's time to go to my go-to move.

But first, let's recount some famous "go-to moves" in history:
1) The Dream Shake: This was Hakeem Olajuwon's patented move under the basket where he faked and twisted his way to NOTHING BUT THE BOTTOM OF THE NET!

2) Jerry's move: George borrows it, Puddy steals it, you know the rest. (By the way, this week, one of my Israeli co-workers exclaimed in a heavy accent "Helloooooooooo, Newman". A funnier moment there has never been.)

3) Crane technique: "If done right, no can defense!" In case you missed it the first time...what a scene...

Playing the role of the seven nations which attacked Israel in 1948, the Cobra Kai. And as the little nation that could...Daniel LaRusso! It's amazing this movie isn't more popular in Israel.

Back's against the wall...not a lot of time to write...what to do? Gotta turn to my go-to move...ULPAN!

• I love when Israelis throw a random English word into conversation. How do they decide when to do this? It happens at least once or thrice a class. "Zeh lo pehr-fect! Zeh KEN beeg deel! Zeh lo mamash soo-prize!"
  
• You know how British singers lose their accents when singing? (Or at least we Americans think they do.) I sit next to an Australian guy who loses his accent when speaking Hebrew. Then again, some Israelis think I'm French or English when they hear me speak Hebrew so what do I know?
• When using our new word "likrat (before, preceding)" in a sentence, my favorite teacher Daphna chose a familiar line: "Lecha dodi, likrat Shabbat." Read that line again, Jews. Anyone see anything wrong? Strike one against the future of Israel as a religious state.
  
• Yours truly was the first volunteer to choose a newspaper article to present to the class. I chose something of major geopolitical significance: the Israeli cable channel HOT's recent purchase of season six of "American Idol." I found myself giving an interesting explanation (in Hebrew, not easy) of America's current infatuation with reality TV and, more specifically, laughing at others' misfortune. (Ech omrim "she bangs"?)
  

Benji: "Does anyone know Kelly Clarkson?
Jenny from Sweden: "Unfortunately."

America: The land of opportunity. And bad TV.

"You're...EHHHHHHHHH..."

• I'm not going to discuss the Benny Sela saga (although in a major development, he was just captured). However, during the initial days after Sela's escape, we learned many relevant words which showed up in the papers. For example, "mirdaf"-a pursuit, chase. Or as Daphna put it when speaking to us like seven-year olds, mirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-daf! Holy Jesus, I think she just summoned a flock of hummingbirds. I'd pay money to have a resh like that.
  
• For those of you who don't follow the Middle East, at some point during the last intifada, the word "matzav" (situation) became synonymous with the conflict, as explained here. The matzav was responsible for incredible tragedy: the loss of thousands of lives, incredible pain and suffering, and the final death blow to Oslo. It became a very emotionally charged word, referenced by Jews in Israel and across the Diaspora. A few days ago in Ulpan, one of my classmates used the word "matzav", to which Daphna replied "ayze matzav (which situation)?" As evidenced by Daphna's response, we seem to have arrived at a point in history where the word has been returned to the Hebrew language for general and personal use. For this reason, I feel the need to snatch it up, like a web surfer seizing a domain name which has just become available. I'M CALLING IT NOW: going forward, the "matzav" will now refer to my ongoing status as a 32 year-old single man in a country of gorgeous Jewish women. The matzav is serious, has lasted too long, and needs to be addressed for the betterment of the world (and by "the world", I mean me.)
  

Let us all pray for a quick and final resolution to this very serious "situation". Thank you.

Ulpan Adventures, Vol. II

A couple of weeks ago, I chronicled my first day of Ulpan. It’s been three weeks now, 3-4 days each week, and it's going great. I truly felt my Hebrew getting significantly better after only a week and a half of learning new words. One day, I was flipping pages in one of the national papers, Yediot Achronot, and found two new words I had learned in one headline, a cause for major celebration.

Because of this man, I wake up daily at 7 AM for class.

Remember that Far Side cartoon? What you say to your dog: "Oh Ginger, that was a bad thing. You're a bad, bad dog, Ginger." What a dog hears: "Blah Ginger, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah, Ginger." That's kind of how I experience Hebrew. I was at my friend Rani's last week while he was deep in a conversation with a friend of his. I completely zoned out, lost in a web of fast-spoken Hebrew words when suddenly, I was awoken from my linguistic slumber by a familiar phrase from Ulpan, m'chaneh m'shutaf. I immediately started screaming "COMMON DENOMINATOR! COMMON DENOMINATOR!", quite possibly the first time outside of MIT that those words have ever been exclaimed with such glee. To recognize a familiar word...aside from the birth of a newborn, does anything else bring about such a sense of pride? And furthermore, does anything else make you look like such a dork?

I couldn't decide which picture would more better convey my point...which is don't get TOO excited speaking Hebrew. (Ok, I really just wanted to include a picture of Booger.)

In any event, I've learned that while the classes are nice, it's (becoming proficient, that is) all about the practice, specifically doing the homework and speaking outside of class. I need to practice more; it's hard to dedicate time (l'hakdeesh z'man).

So what have I learned?

• It's true-the Jewish people really do want peace. As the propaganda says, we educate our young (and future Hebrew speakers) for it. On a recent worksheet, one of the sentences to be translated stated "We hope there will be peace"; we had to conjugate the verb. I wonder what the language proficiency tests of some our neighbors look like?

1. I want to _____ the Jews.
a) kill
b) killed
c) would have killed
d) Allah Akbar!

• A lot of women come to Israel because of their Israeli boyfriends. And not all of them Jewish. Ok, so maybe not a lot but at least four in my class who I've met so far. One from Canada (not an MOT), another from Vermont (nope), one from Japan who is married to one (take a wild guess), and one from South Africa (card-carrying member!) What is it about Israeli men? And why in the world would you come to this country if you weren't Jewish? Do you WATCH the news? IT'S A WAR ZONE!!! (If you believe that last sentence, please find yourself a new blog to follow.) I have had one conversation with the nice Japanese woman. A few minutes into our talk, I prefaced the next question with "this is a really silly question" in Hebrew before asking if she had seen "The Karate Kid." Maybe it's better that she didn't know what I was talking about...

• That singing "Hatikva" is somewhere between often and always a spine-tingling experience (as so recently explained here). One day last week, a woman from the Ulpan (let's call her "the music lady") joined our class for a few minutes, presumably for the first of many times, to teach us a song with her guitar. She sang "Hatikva" and taught us the words, although I imagine most of us knew them. To look around the room at a room of immigrants, all gathered together for the same reasons, learning the language together...if that doesn't give you chills, what does? (How about biting teeth-first into a popsicle? That usually does it for me. Ugh, I just got chills. Ok, this ALWAYS gives me chills. Is there a more incredible five minute segment in cinematic history? If you can't take five minutes out of your busy day to watch it...well...I just don't know if we can continue this relationship. Lastly, several years ago, I was flipping channels and came across "The Karate Kid" on Telemundo. Mr. Miyagi in Spanish. Now THAT'S funny......now what the hell was I talking about?)

If he taught class, we'd speak Hebrew fluently in a month.
(Plus, we'd know how to paint the fence. "Up...down...breathe in...breathe out.")

• Hebrew is a language of few words. It's funny how every English word has 57 synonyms. Just a few for the word "angry": mad, furious, irritated, incensed, outraged, sulky, ill-tempered, fuming...I think I'll stop here. Hebrew's pretty simple-its modern form has only been around for about as long as the automobile. My teacher Dafna is always directing the class in single words. "OK!" "Kadima!" (forward!, or let's continue) "Tov!" (good) "Naaaaa-chon!" (right) I love Dafna. Starting last week, we have a different teacher on Thursdays. Unlike Dafna, she did not talk to us in the "you're a four-year old" tone of voice. I was very upset by this.
  

Sticking with the language observations. Israelis are known to be direct (not rude). Did their directness cause the language to develop as it did, with people speaking in a short, direct manner? Or is it simply the absence of words that causes them to get to the point quickly? It's the old camel and the egg argument. My co-worker Lymore in New York used to get mad at me when I'd say something to her in Hebrew in a single word, like "ZU-zee" (move), accusing me of being rude. That's how Israelis talk though. They don't say "excuse me, kind sir, would you be so kind as to move a little bit out the way so I could possibly maneuver my way around you if it's not inconvenient, please?" They say "move". It sounds weird for Americans but, hey, when you're busy fighting wars, who has time for small talk?

• I've also learned that, Jesus Christ (or as my co-worker says, Shema Yisrael!), the immigrants in this country smoke a LOT. We need a new unit of measurement for the amount of time it takes for those people to light up during break time. I don't even know what else to say here.
  

Only 7 hours till class begins. Time to go to sleep.