Hebrew – Jewish Independent

Give a gift of language

Tina Turner, the late Leonard Cohen, TV presenter and comedian Bill Maher, the bands Madness and Led Zeppelin, actor Richard Gere and others have recently been added to the list of celebrities like actors Tom Selleck and Ben Stiller, musician Mick Jagger and former president Barack Obama who, perhaps unknown to them, have helped learners of Hebrew around the world acquire new vocabulary. Two years after the publication of the book Hilarious Hebrew: The Fun and Fast Way to Learn the Language, a fifth print run – which is also an extended edition – has recently been published.

Co-creator and Hebrew teacher Yael Breuer is convinced that, once readers find out that singer “Tina Turner does not hold a grudge,” for example, they are not likely to forget that the Hebrew word for grudge is tina.

“The method is a great way to memorize Hebrew vocabulary but, in fact, could be adapted as a teaching aid for any vocabulary in any language, and we have been asked about producing versions of the book for French, German and even Chinese speakers,” said Yael Breuer.

The book has been popular with Jews and Christians, tourists and students, and is sold in shops, Jewish museums and online. “The book was placed on the recommended book list by famous London-based Foyles bookstore and someone recently told me, half-jokingly, that our method could help lift the biblical curse of the Tower of Babel, which caused communication problems by separating people into speaking different languages,” she added.

Hilarious Hebrew is divided into sections, which helps users identify words according to their need or interest, including vocabulary for vacationers, shoppers and restaurant-goers. It has been used as an aliyah gift to new immigrants to Israel by the Jewish Agency and has also been adopted as a language teaching tool by Edinburgh Hebrew congregation, who have started converting some of the book’s illustrations into animations. Hebrew tutorials, based on the method, are now available on the internet and co-writer Eyal Shavit, who is a musician, is in the process of composing a song using the Hilarious Hebrew method. “Just like the book, the song will teach Hebrew words in an entertaining way that will stick in the listeners’ minds,” he said.

For more information, see jewishindependent.ca/from-nonsense-knowledge. And event information about the book is available on hilarioushebrew.com; it is sold by Amazon.

Immersed in Hebrew

Friends at Camp Shomria show off the fresh vegetables they picked in the camp’s garden. The produce was used to make a salad for one of the meals. (photo from Camp Shomria)

It is said that there is no better way to learn something than by immersing yourself in it. And for kids who want to learn Hebrew in Canada, camp is one of the best and most accessible ways of doing that. But, while there are many Jewish camps in Canada that promote Hebrew language, Camp Massad in Manitoba is the only camp where all the activities and programming are carried out in Hebrew.

“They are not allowed to speak English outside the cabin,” said Danial Sprintz, the camp’s executive director. “Inside the cabin, they speak in whatever languages they want to. But, if they are outside, they are not allowed to speak in English to each other. The kids are all trying to speak Hebrew. So, when everybody’s doing it, you fall in line. Our camp is run completely in Hebrew and there isn’t any other camp that is doing that.

“Not all the kids that come to the camp can speak Hebrew when they arrive. About 50% of the kids don’t go to Hebrew day school, so they are learning Hebrew at camp. We don’t sit them down in a classroom, but we teach them the essentials they need to ask the basic questions. We teach Hebrew through song.”

With repetition, and everyone being together for three meals a day and programming, the kids start picking up the ability to communicate with each other as they go.

Most of the staff has grown up going to the camp and, each year, there are also a number of staff who come in from Israel.

The camp also prides itself on being 100% inclusive. No matter what a child’s situation – if they are autistic, use a wheelchair or are developmentally delayed, or if they are completely secular or ultra-Orthodox in Jewish observance – Sprintz said the camp is dedicated to finding a way to make the experience work for all campers.

Sprintz was executive director of Congregation Emanu-El in Victoria for a number of years, when he and his wife were going to school in British Columbia, before returning to Winnipeg and taking on his role at Camp Massad.

“When I arrived in Victoria, the rabbi was on sabbatical in Israel,” said Sprintz. “I approached the board about helping them with the programming while he was away, and then just stayed on after.”

This experience helped Sprintz develop ways of introducing the children at Camp Massad to Judaism. “We make it fun,” he said. “And we make it something the kids look forward to, as we make the tunes and the process of it all fun. We have tefillin club in the morning for kids who want to try something out, and for kids who need to. But, when it comes down to it, we provide all the religious and traditional cultural components that kids would need to come to camp, to a certain point – we don’t want to separate boys and girls, as we want everybody to be together.”

Camp Massad encourages the children to write their own songs and to put on plays for others in the camp – all in Hebrew.

Winnipeg’s Aviva Tabac has been sending her two daughters, Chaya, 15, and Sara, 13, to Camp Massad for the last three years.

“I didn’t go to camp growing up,” said Tabac. “My parents took us on a summer vacation each year, and the rest of the time was spent at the beach with family and friends. Since I didn’t grow up going to summer camp, I felt it would be a good idea for the girls to try it. Just from my immediate circle of friends who all went to Massad, there’s a special bond they have with one another that carries over into adulthood. All my friends still talk about their fond Massad days and I wanted to give the girls the chance to experience that for themselves.”

Both Chaya and Sara attend public school, so they do not get a lot of other opportunities to speak Hebrew. Tabac said, “When my girls return from camp, they continue to speak in Hebrew, sing Hebrew songs and reminisce. They hang onto their Massad memories and feelings for as long as they can.

“The Hebrew is a big component,” she continued, “but, more so, the celebration of Shabbat, day-to-day celebration of Jewish culture and being proud of being Jewish. The lov[ing], understanding and caring staff and councilors [are] amazing. My girls feel at home when they’re at Massad. They come back rejuvenated, independent and confident. I know that, when they’re there, I have nothing to worry about because they’re in good hands.”

Meanwhile, Lilach Golan moved with her family to Vancouver last fall. She has been sending her four daughters to Camp Shomria in Ontario for years, and plans to continue doing so. She does it with the hope of them picking up some of the values that she grew up with on kibbutz in Israel, including Hebrew.

“For us, the Hebrew language and culture were extremely important and it was very difficult to speak in Hebrew at home all the time … because, when children live in English, they want to speak English and want to be part of the culture around them,” said Golan.

While Camp Shomria operates in English, Hebrew is everywhere at the camp, and the different areas in the camp have Hebrew names, like the chof (beach), cheder ochel (dining room) and moadon tarbut (culture club). Hebrew is also spoken during many of the activities, which include singing and dancing, and at different presentations.

“They do have a lot of Israelis and people who speak Hebrew,” said Golan. “And that’s a big push for the Hebrew – kids love to talk Hebrew with them and the Israelis come every summer. And the songs they sing, there is a lot of language happening there.”

Sharon, 14, is Golan’s youngest daughter. For her, the best part of camp is getting to spend time with her kvutza (group).

“We use Hebrew terminology in contexts where they make sense to me and I can use them meaningfully,” said Sharon. “I also remember better what they mean when I’m not at camp anymore because I can remember the context in which we used them. Hebrew constructs a lot of what and how we do things at Camp Shomria and it’s that culture, atmosphere and values that make me want to come back.

“Even if the Hebrew we use at camp is not new to me,” she said, “it adds so much value to the camp environment and my experience of it. It helps me develop the connection to the three pillars of Hashomer Hatzair [The Young Guard, the Zionist-socialist youth movement] and the core values we share.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

תוכניות לקהילה הישראלית

שנה חדשה: תוכניות בעברית בג’ואיש קומיוניטי סנטר לקהילה הישראלית

הג’ואיש קומיוניטי סנטר של אזור מטרו ונקובר מפרסם בימים אלה מספר תוכניות בשפה העברית לשנת 2018, במסגרת אירועי תרבות יהודית וישראלית, שמיועדים לקהילה הישראלית. את האירועים מארגנת רכזת התרבות של הג’ואיש קומיוניטי סנטר איילת כהן.

להלן מספר תוכניות:

מועדון ארוחת בוקר לנשים ישראליות מדי יום ראשון בשעה 11 בבוקר. האירוע מיועד לישראליות חדשות וותיקות והן ידונו במה שמשותף להן, תוך נסיון ליצור קשרים ביניהן ובן הקהילה.

“דלת הקסמים” – מחזמר לילדים המבוסס על מיטב שיריה של המוסיקאית נורית הירש. ההצגה (שמיועדת לילדים בגילאי 2 עד 8) תתקיים ביום ראשון ה-28 בחודש, בשעה 11 בבוקר.סיפור המחזמר: הילדה מיכל מנסה להשיג מתנה מקורית ומיוחדת ליום ההולדת של אמה. היא יוצאת למסע לממלכת הצלילים בעזרת חבריה, שהם דמויות משיריה של הירש, אותם היא פוגשת בדרך. בין השירים שבמחזמר: מקהלה עליזה, בוקר של זהב, ברבאבא, הבית של פיסטוק, דלת הקסמים, מחרוזת פים פם פה ומחרוזת דיג דיג דוג.

ערב שירה בציבור “שירים שאימצנו” ביום ראשון ה-28 בחודש, בשעה 7 בערב. באירוע משתתפים מרים בני בליווי משה דנבורג ויונה בר סבר. אירוע השירה הבא יתקיים ביום ראשון ה-29 באפריל גם כן ב-7 בערב.

קורסים של עברית לילדים מדי יום רביעי אחר הצהריים, החל מיום רביעי השבוע (ה-10 בחודש) עד ה-14 במרץ. השיעורים לתלמידי הגן וכיתה א’ יועברו בין השעות 4.30-5.30. ואילו השיעורים לתלמידי כיתות ב’-ד’ יועברו בין השעות 5.30-6.30. הקורסים כוללים שיפור העברית בקריאה, כתיבה, דיבור והבנה. כן יועבר חומר על חגי ישראל, המורשת יהודית-ישראלית, בשילוב פעילויות משפחתיות.

לא מומלץ לנסות: רקון אומץ על ידי משפחה והפך לבן בית

רקונים (דביבונים בעברית) הם בעלי חיים ממשפחת היונקים שמקומם בטבע. למרות יופיים בשל הפרווה היפה שמכסה אותם, רבים מעדיפים להתרחק ככל הניתן מהרקונים שרק עושים צרות בצרורות. בחיפושים אחר אוכל בעיקר בפחי אשפה כטורפי לילה – הרקונים הופכים למאוד ארגרסיבים. הם מסוגלים לטרוף אף חתולים או כלבים קטנים. ידוע על מקרים בהם רקונים נשכו גם בני אדם ובעיקר ילדים קטנים. ולכן מי שמבחין בהם בדרך כלל שומר מרחק.

למרות זאת משפחת הולמן שמחזיקה בחווה של בעלי חיים במזרח יוניאק שבמחוז נובה סקוטיה, החליטה לאמץ רקון והעניקה לו את השם ראמבו. הרקון נמצא כתינוק בודד ורעב כמעט למוות על ידי חבורה של ילדים. הם העבירו אותו לטיפולה של משפחת הולמן בשל ניסיונם הרב בטיפול בבעלי חיים כולל רקונים. הביבי רקון הסתגל מהר מאוד לחיי המשפחה והפך לחלק ממנה. ראמבו ישן בלילות בחווה והוא חופשי ללכת לאן שירצה אך למרות זאת הוא מעדיף להישאר עם ההולמנים ומסרב לחזור לטבע. בלית ברירה הוא אומץ על ידם והפך לחיית מחמד. בזמן שראמבו מטייל עם בני המשפחה מחוץ לבית הוא קשור לרצועה ממש כמו כלב. למרות זאת לא מעט מאלה שמבחינים בו מעקמים את הפרצוף, בשל המוניטין הרע שיש לרקונים שכאמור נחשבים לבעלי חיים מסוכנים מאוד.

מומחית לחיות טוענת שלמרות שראמבו הסתגל לחיי בית יש לשחרר אותו בחזרה לטבע ובהקדם, כיוון שרקונים כאשר הם בני שנה הופכים לאגרסיבים ומסוכנים ביותר. ההולמנים מרגישים כי זה כבר מאוחר מדי לשחרר את ראמבו בחזרה לטבע והוחלט שישאר עימם. הם מתכננים בקרוב לסרס את הרקון שלהם ואז לבקש רשיון מהמועצה המקומית להחזיק בו כחוק.

3,000 years of a language

Let’s say it at the outset: this book is a gem. Every page of The Story of Hebrew by Lewis Glinert (Princeton University Press, 2017) is packed with information about the language, from its beginnings through post-1948 Israel. In addition to this longitudinal approach, Glinert, a professor of Hebrew and linguistics at Dartmouth, also approaches his subject laterally, focusing on various lands where Jewish/Hebrew life and culture thrived, like early Palestine, Babylonia, North Africa, Spain, Europe and Russia, the United States and Israel.

The book shows us how living under Greek and Roman domination affected Hebrew and how vocabulary from those occupiers seeped into the language. Two examples, the first mine, the second Glinert’s: the simple word for shoemaker in Hebrew, sandlar, which comes from the Latin sandalrius; and Sanhedrin, the Jewish High Court, which stems from the Greek synedrion. Jews did not shy away from these foreign influences; their Hebrew language embraced them.

book cover - The Story of Hebrew by Lewis Glinert Glinert also traces the changes in the use of the language from biblical times through the Mishnah (before and after 200 CE), where the Hebrew of that period was more direct and seemingly more colloquial, as can be seen by comparing a text from the Mishnah with any chapter in the Bible. During the next two or three hundred years, written Hebrew then moved on from the Hebrew-only Mishnah to the two-language Talmud, with its mix of mostly Aramaic and much less Hebrew. (In all of this, of course, we only have written texts to go by.)

With sacred books passing from generation to generation orally, correct pronunciation might be lost or distorted. Along came the Masoretes (from the Hebrew word, masorah, tradition), who, by the year 1000, had created above- and below-the-letters signs that ingeniously indicated pronunciation, melody, accent and phrasing.

Jews also contributed to scientific learning by writing about medicine in Hebrew. I am sure it will surprise many readers, as it did me, that in Italy’s first medical school, in Salerno, founded in the ninth century, the languages of instruction were Hebrew, Greek, Latin and Arabic. And, in southern France, in Arles, Narbonne and Montpellier, the official language of instruction in these medical schools was Hebrew.

Religious attitude also influenced how Hebrew was used. Glinert delves into this divide by showing that, during the 11th and 12th centuries in Ashkenaz (in northern France and the Rhineland), the accent was on liturgy and Torah scholarship – the works of Rashi, for instance – while in Sepharad (Spain) and Italy secular Hebrew poetry flourished, influenced by Arabic poetry, exemplified by Yehuda Halevi and other poets.

The book devotes two remarkable chapters to the interaction of Christians with Hebrew.

In one of these unholy intersections, two of the noted translators of the Bible from Hebrew, the church father Jerome (fourth century) and Martin Luther (1534), respected Hebrew but disparaged Jews and Judaism. In his notorious 1542 book On the Jews and Their Lies, Luther asserts, “Jews should be expelled before they poison more wells and ritually abuse more children.”

A better relationship ensued with English translators. William Tyndale was the first to render the Five Books of Moses (1530) into English directly from the Hebrew. In so doing, he defied a bishop’s ban on a translation other than the Latin Vulgate. Tyndale’s translation led to the classic 1611 King James version of the complete Bible, whose English rhythms, cadences and even sentence structure enormously affected English.

As Glinert elegantly puts it: these two translations would “inject a Hebraic quality into the syntax and phraseology of English literary usage without parallel in any other European culture.” The author further adds that echoes of this biblical English can be seen from Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass poetry collection to Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech.

Hebrew also made its mark in the early history of the United States. The Pilgrims saw themselves as the New Israelites, giving their towns name like New Canaan and Salem – even their Thanksgiving was a belated Sukkot to celebrate a bountiful harvest. And Hebrew was at one time ensconced as a mandatory subject in the Ivy League colleges. I recently read that at graduation ceremonies students would deliver orations in Hebrew, Greek and Latin, and university presidents, like Ezra Stiles of Yale, would also occasionally give their commencement talks in Hebrew.

Glinert writes that the door to modernity in Europe was opened in 1780 by two books published on different sides of Europe. One, in Germany, was Moses Mendelssohn’s Biur, the first volume of his translation of the Torah into German; the other, in a small town in the Ukraine, was a book in Hebrew about Chassidic thought.

Slowly, from the advent of the Haskalah, the Jewish Enlightenment movement, through newspapers, magazines and books, modern Hebrew was being reshaped, culminating with Jews resettling Palestine in the late 19th century, along with Eliezer Ben-Yehuda’s call, at the turn of the 20th century, for Jews to speak only Hebrew. Glinert shows us how the thrust for Hebraization continued once the British got the Mandate for Palestine in 1922 from the League of Nations. They recognized Hebrew as the language of instruction for public schools, broadcasting, the courts and civil regulations. With the founding of the state of Israel in 1948 and mass immigration, Hebrew – which throughout the centuries had always been read, studied and written, and only occasionally spoken – reached its efflorescence.

The Story of Hebrew is a superb book, meticulously researched and beautifully written. Two of my favourites among the many text-enhancing illustrations and photographs are a photo of a page from one of Sir Isaac Newton’s notebooks, where he has a phrase in Hebrew written in his neat printed script; and a page from Franz Kafka’s Hebrew notebook, with two columns of nicely calligraphed Hebrew words on one side with their German translation (in longhand) on the other.

Read this marvelous study – perhaps, if you don’t know Hebrew, it will inspire you to learn it and become part of a more than 3,000-year tradition of transmission.

Curt Leviant’s most recent books are the novels King of Yiddish and Kafka’s Son.

Hebrew school in Okanagan

Left to right, reciting the Four Questions at the Okanagan Jewish community’s Passover celebration: Adarah Challmie, Ben Levitan, Jordan Spevakow, David Spevakow, Samara Levitan, and Kate Spevakow. (photo by Misty Smith)

Kelowna’s Jewish community may be small, but it’s poised for growth. The latest development: an expansion of its Hebrew school’s curriculum.

Led by the family of David and Natalie Spevakow, who moved to Kelowna from Calgary some 13 years ago, Hebrew classes were first provided last year. Now, more Jewish content will be added to the lessons, as well.

At the moment, the Spevakows are spearheading this task. Parents lead classes every Monday after school, with kindergarten to Grade 3 first, followed by grades 4-to-7. The parents rotate each week, teaching the kids about Jewish traditions and the Hebrew language, prayers and blessings. Currently, there are 14 students in total (two of whom are Spevakows).

“Trying to have a Jewish life in a small community can be a challenge,” said Natalie Spevakow. “I would say our congregation at the Okanagan Jewish Community Centre is about 100 members, but only 25 to 30 are active members.

“We have a visiting rabbi who comes once a month, Rabbi [Shaul] Osadchey from Beth Tzedec congregation in Calgary. We set this up to bridge the gap with our communities, and that’s been wonderful. With us having young families, we’ve all decided that it’s important that we get together, and we wanted to build a Jewish community for ourselves and our kids.”

The Spevakows are looking to hire a part-time teacher to start in September and work through June. They are searching for a creative, energetic person knowledgeable in Hebrew and the Jewish traditions to teach children ages 4 to 14. The position involves two hours of teaching a week, plus preparation time, and the teaching material is provided. In addition to an hourly wage, the teacher would receive a free annual family membership to the Okanagan JCC. (Interested readers should call Anne at the OJCC, 250-862-2305.)

“All of our parents just want our kids to be with other Jewish children and get a sense of what it is to be Jewish,” said Spevakow.

“We also try to get together with our Hebrew school every few months for a potluck,” she added. “When we have the visiting rabbi come, we do a potluck with the rabbi and do services with our children and our families as well. We make that a time to get together and bring the community together.”

photo in Jewish Independent - Dressed for Purim, left to right: in the front row, Bria Tizel, Anderson Parnes, Kate Spevakow, Ryder Golbey, Skyla Golbey and Chase Golbey; in the back, Jordan Spevakow, Abbey Parnes and a friend, and Adarah Challmie — Dressed for Purim, left to right: in the front row, Bria Tizel, Anderson Parnes, Kate Spevakow, Ryder Golbey, Skyla Golbey and Chase Golbey; in the back, Jordan Spevakow, Abbey Parnes and a friend, and Adarah Challmie. *(photo by Natalie Spevakow)*

As of now, all the children involved in the school are Canadian-born, but there are Israeli-born children who will be joining classes when they come of age. The class curriculum is a combination of programs that the Spevakows sourced online with guidance from Osadchey. Parents are encouraged to take material home to practise during the week.

“The learning works better if they do take stuff home,” said Natalie Spevakow. “I know, for the little guys, they’re just learning the Hebrew letters and can repeat the words they learned…. We try to make it hands-on and more fun for them.”

Looking ahead, Spevakow feels that the Jewish community is growing, anticipating that one day it will be big enough to warrant more frequent visits from Osadchey.

“But, right now, with our smaller numbers, it’s very difficult for us to finance having a rabbi here all the time,” she said. “As is, we’re making it work, getting our kids educated and getting the resources we can.”

The older students are learning to lead Friday night services, with the goal of having them lead a service by May 2017, and then again, have them lead a service with Osadchey.

“We’re not on our own, trying to make things up on our own,” she said. “It’s just a matter of people making time for their kids, so the program works. I think all the parents recognize they want this for our kids and are willing to put in their time.

“We used to do it on weekends, but, with so many of us really big into skiing, it wasn’t working out. So, weekdays are definitely working better for us.”

They also recognize there may be some older members of the community who may be interested in helping with classes, so they hope to bridge the gap and find ways to bring them in, too.

“There’s something to be said about a small community, in that you really get to know all your members,” said Spevakow. “They truly do become an extension of your family. You realize that anything you’d like to see happen, things that, in a larger community you might have taken for granted because it’s available, in a small community may not exist yet…. Connecting on a deeper level with the people in our community, figuring out the assets that each can bring to the table, has really benefited our community. Knowing everyone’s faces really helps.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

From nonsense, knowledge

To help readers remember what they learn, Hilarious Hebrew uses silly sentences and illustrations. (all images from Hilarious Hebrew)

“The poor monkey has a cough.” “If you’re feeling sleepy, let the lights dim, yawn and let your imagination run free.”

Through such silly sentences, readers of Hilarious Hebrew: The Fun and Fast Way to Learn the Language (Pitango Publishing) learn that, in Hebrew, the word for monkey is kof (pronounced similarly to cough) and that imagination is dim’yon (pronounced dim, yawn). If the context of the sentences isn’t enough, the illustrations should ensure you remember.

“The method in Hilarious Hebrew is aimed at teaching vocabulary rather than whole sentences because the whole point of it is to teach a Hebrew word in the context of a sentence in English that would convey the pronunciation and the meaning of the new word (in Hebrew) through a familiar, easy context (in English),” explained Hebrew teacher Yael Breuer, who co-authored the book with musician Eyal Shavit.

The writing duo is continually coming up with new teaching phrases, which they often post on the book’s Facebook page, Instagram and Twitter accounts, said Breuer.

“I’ve used the method over the years with my Hebrew students and classes and knew that the method worked well – the words stuck in the students’ minds! – and that it added an element of fun to the lessons.”

And her testing ground has been extensive. The longtime teacher has worked with a wide variety of students: “people with family members in Israel, people who planned to visit Israel, partners of Israelis who want to learn some Hebrew, people converting to Judaism, a vicar, nuns – a real interesting mix,” she said.

About the book’s origins, Breuer said she shared a list of 20 to 30 sentences that she used regularly in teaching with Shavit, who is also an Israeli expat living in Brighton, England.

“Eyal loved the idea so much and started making up new sentences and texting them to me to make me laugh. I started reciprocating with new sentences that I would make up and, for awhile, we were just making up sentences for our own amusement. A few months down the line, however, when I realized that there were about 300 sentences that taught a variety of Hebrew words from various fields and at all levels, I suggested to Eyal that we share the resource – and that’s how the idea of the book came about.

“It took us about a year from conception to publication,” she continued. “We did not approach a publisher, as we knew how we wanted the book to look and feel. It was a long and rather hard process at times, and we would regularly spend hours rewriting one sentence so that it taught the Hebrew word in the best possible way. We also had to liaise with designers, find the right illustrator, choose the right printers and make many decisions, but we completed the process, are getting fantastic feedback and are very pleased with the result!”

An important part of the book’s appeal is the drawings by cartoonist, writer and illustrator Aubrey Smith, who has contributed his art to several books and also has written How to Build a Robot with Your Dad and Screw It, both published by Michael O’Mara Books.

In addition to teaching Modern Hebrew, Breuer writes for the Jewish Chronicle; she also has had her articles on British culture published in Israeli newspapers Haaretz and Maariv. From Rehovot, Breuer moved to Brighton 27 years ago, she said. “My husband, David, is English and, although he is originally from London, he already lived in Brighton when I met him.”

Shavit, who is from Kibbutz Kfar Szold in northern Israel, has been in Brighton for nine years. “He was working elsewhere in the U.K. but someone recommended Brighton as a vibrant and arty place where he could pursue his music career, so he came here and stayed,” said Breuer. “He studied music in Brighton and has been making a living as a musician (plays the guitar and sings) ever since.”

The two friends met fellow Brightoner Smith, who is English, “by pure chance through my neighbor, Dave,” explained Breuer. “As soon as we saw his wonderful, humorous style, we knew that he was the one. Aubrey has never had a connection to Judaism or Hebrew but, through illustrating the book, he himself learned some Hebrew words and would sometimes use them in his emails to us, which was another proof that the method works!”

The Jewish community in Brighton is a few thousand strong, said Breuer, with “four active synagogues – two Orthodox, a Reform and a Progressive, and a Chabad branch, too. There is a small community of a few dozen Israelis but it is a vibrant one – we meet regularly in a pub in Brighton, celebrate festivals together and keep in touch. Many of the Israelis here and their English-speaking partners or children have been our ‘guinea pigs’ when writing the book and their feedback helped us tremendously.”

Hilarious Hebrew is available at hilarioushebrew.com, some bookshops and gift stores and also on Amazon.

The High Holidays in Beijing

The Confucius temple is a must-see in Beijing. (photo by Thyristorchopper)

On Sept. 7, I arrived in Beijing for a 10-month adventure – teaching Hebrew at Peking University. (Yes, this is what it is still called.)

Among the many preparations I had to make for this journey were learning some basic Mandarin, downloading and scanning for the students a huge amount of Hebrew material that would not be accessible from China, and packing clothes for three seasons. I also had to think about celebrating the High Holidays away from my family.

On the internet, I learned that Beijing’s Jewish community enjoys two congregations: Chabad, as one would expect almost anywhere in the world, and Kehillat Beijing, “an egalitarian, unaffiliated, lay-led Jewish community organization.” The latter has a rabbi, but only a guest one, and only during High Holidays. This year, they invited, for the second time, Rabbi Jack Shlachter, a physicist-rabbi from Los Alamos, N.M. What a small world! His wife, Bruria (Beverly), who would accompany him, was one of my mini-ulpan students in Santa Fe last year! In an email exchange, she assured me that Kehillat Beijing is a warm and welcoming community and, by the way, would I mind taking part and reading a passage during the Yom Kippur service?

The first few days on campus are full of bureaucratically required errands, and they are a good way to get familiar with the geography of my new and fascinating environment – a beautiful campus, part of which was the southern edge of a huge imperial garden. Surprisingly, it doesn’t feel as foreign as I expected it would. Global village? Still, there are enough things, even those on the mundane side, which are so different and curious, they promise more surprises.

Three days after arrival, I venture into the super-modern subway, heading to the Israeli embassy. The ambassador’s wife had invited Israeli women in Beijing for an informal potluck evening to welcome the New Year, and I am on the list. The instructions I receive from a student are clear: change from Line 4 to 10, take Exit B, walk two blocks into the diplomatic part of the city, and I am there.

There are about 20 women from what seems to be a close-knit group. Among them, a now local restaurateur, an architect, some businesswomen, an event planner, the Chabad rebbitzen, embassy employees, and wives of businessmen or embassy workers, taking time off from their jobs in Israel and enjoying all that Beijing has to offer – a good group for a newcomer to get her first tips about life in China. Late at night and after a rainstorm, I safely walk to the subway and back to my campus residence.

photo - Kehillat Beijing has transformed a Chinese antique piece into a small ark. There are Magen Davids on its doors — Kehillat Beijing has transformed a Chinese antique piece into a small ark. There are Magen Davids on its doors. *(photo from Rahel Halabe)*

On Friday night, I head to Kehillat Beijing. I take the same subway station, but Exit A gives me my first glimpse of a busy downtown street, a shopping centre, hotels, the construction site of a large and creatively shaped tower, many tiny little – some elegant – stores (are all stores in Beijing so small?) and street food prepared and sold in small carts.

KB meets every Friday evening on the third floor of the Capital Club Athletic Centre. Local Jews, fluent in Mandarin, living in China for periods ranging from a few years to a couple of decades – business owners, financiers, ESL teachers, people working in the American, Canadian and Israeli embassies, students of Chinese or Chinese medicine, and others – get together with local Chinese who are searching for a new spiritual path, as well as with visitors. These visitors are tourists, exchange students and university professors, here temporarily, or those with great ideas, who come to explore business potentials.

The service this time is led by the guest rabbi in front a Chinese antique piece that has been turned into a small ark. If you look carefully, you will notice the probably unintentional Magen David-like decorations on its doors.

The KB logo has a Magen David that replaces one element of the word Beijing. (image from Rahel Halabe)

The KB logo, embroidered on their kippot, also has a Magen David in it, only here it replaces one element of the Chinese characters denoting the word Beijing. It is something to take home for your kippa collection.

After the service, there are announcements – and a surprise. One of the organizers of Limmud China, which alternates yearly between Beijing and Shanghai, tells us about this year’s event in November, and invites potential presenters to apply. I approach him and offer to do so, in this way compensating for having had to withdraw my offer to present at Limmud Vancouver 2016.

Friday and holiday services at KB are usually followed by dinner. Attendees buy a ticket but, for students, it is subsidized. The social mix at every table ensures interesting and lively conversations.

Saturday is my first day as a real tourist. I visit the Confucius temple site, with its ancient trees and long library “avenue” – all the Confucian wisdom engraved in close to 200 stelas, each more than twice a man-size tall. At the end, a class of university history students stages their version of an ancient bow and arrow shooting competition in historical clothing.

The next day is erev Rosh Hashana and Rabbi Jack leads the service in a meaningful, beautiful way. At my dinner table sits a British journalism professor, an American government envoy here to discuss drug issues with Chinese officials, a father visiting his Chinese-language-student son and an American university librarian hunting for both Jewish and Arabic publications produced in China, accompanied by two young guests: a Chinese woman writing her master’s thesis on Cynthia Ozick’s work and an Arabic-Chinese translator working in Chinese television. For both, it is their first time in a synagogue. The translator speaks to me in the formal literary Arabic he learned at Peking U and in Sudan, and I answer in my colloquial Arabic, explaining the meaning of the various Jewish New Year customs.

The next day, after Kiddush and a bite of challa dipped in honey, we head to nearby LiangMa (Bright Horse) River for Tashlich, right beside a few fishermen sitting patiently, waiting to hook a fish. From there, we walk for a few blocks and sit on the roof of a brewery, reserved today especially for the KB community to share in vegetarian pizza and drinks. It is an enjoyable, almost family-like, holiday gathering that extends to the late afternoon. By now, I feel quite at home. I speak Hebrew and English at this table and another and, from a trilingual (English, Chinese and Hebrew) 10-year-old girl, I get a detailed explanation and demonstration of the different tones and, hence, meaning of two Chinese words that sound equal to my ear.

On the second day of Rosh Hashana, KB does not hold services, and I join Rabbi Jack and Bruria at Chabad for another warm welcome. I am surprised to find a few of my new acquaintances from KB now here at Chabad. Dividing your “Jewish time” between the two very different congregations is not uncommon, I am told. In Beijing, the two communities collaborate, especially when it comes to the local Sunday school.

In between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, school starts, and I meet my new students, as well as sprinkle in another couple of outings. I witness the locals dancing, playing games and singing, individually and in large groups, in their historical, beautifully preserved parks, taking advantage of the still nice weather and the unusually low pollution levels.

The Saturday between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur is a musical Shabbat at KB. The service is accompanied by a group comprised of members of the congregation and of Moishe House, with their instruments. Moishe House in Beijing seems to be very active, their events include dinners, movie nights, cultural discussions, speakers, holiday celebrations and community service events. They are also central in the preparations for Limmud and host its organizing meeting.

Yom Kippur I spend again with KB, starting with the meal before the fast and ending with the break fast, but for the first night of Sukkot, I head again to Chabad to sit in the sukka. This evening is busy. On top on their usual varied crowd, they are hosting a group of Chabad followers from New York, a tour organized by the Beijing rabbi as a fundraiser for the local day school, Gannenu. As erev Sukkot coincides this year with the Chinese Mid-

Autumn (Moon) Festival, the sukka, which usually would not be decorated, after the Chabad custom, now has bright, red Chinese lanterns hanging from its schach (covering), and traditional (kosher) moon cakes are served for dessert in small, red paper bags.

Barely three weeks and so much to remember already, with the Jewish aspects only being a part of my experiences so far, albeit a significant part. And there are nine more months to go. For the first time in my life, I have started writing a diary, lest I forget.

Rahel Halabe teaches biblical and modern Hebrew in Vancouver and, this year, in Beijing. She is the author of Hinneh: Biblical Hebrew the Practical Way, and a translator of Arabic literature into Hebrew.

Miracle of language’s birth

Hebrew is an ancient language still spoken in Israel and by Israelis worldwide. We all know that. This is history. Hebrew was revived about 130 years ago by Zionist Jews coming to Palestine, and those of us who speak Hebrew know that we speak a Semitic language that evolved from biblical and mishnaic Hebrew. However, when thoroughly researching the structure of Israeli Hebrew, things appear differently.

In Colloquial Israeli Hebrew: A Corpus-based Survey (Walter de Gruyter & Co., 2014), I show that spoken Israeli Hebrew is different from ancient forms of Hebrew. Different in almost every linguistic aspect. Different to the level of defining two separate languages; one is ancient, the other is new. The ancient one has a set of Semitic rules; the new one has a new set of rules that are sometimes Semitic and sometimes not. The vocabularies of the two languages are similar, but not identical. And, linguistically, it is very difficult to define them as if one evolved from the other. Despite their similar vocabularies, they differ in too many linguistic characteristics to be considered one language.

Language is commonly considered a set of words, but languages are much more complicated systems than just a random collection of words. Language is a human system of communication. It contains a set of signs, common to all speakers of the same language. These signs represent notions in the real world. Grammatical rules govern the way these signs are formed, pronounced and ordered. These grammatical rules define the relations between the elements in the language, which form the final contents we transfer to others. These rules are common to all speakers of the same language.

Languages have native speakers – those who acquired it during childhood, and use it natively to communicate with others. Language acquisition is a biological process that all of us, humans, undergo. We are all born with a linguistic system that allows us to acquire a language, our language. The process of language acquisition takes about 10 to 12 years. Then, the system with the linguistic properties of our native language is permanently stored in our brains. This system contains all the information about our native language that we need for communication. It is an unconscious system, not an organized set of rules like the ones taught in schools. All native speakers of the same language share the same set of linguistic rules. Otherwise, they would be unable to communicate with one another, i.e., produce coherent speech and comprehend others’ speech, using the same set of signs and rules.

Vocabulary vs. grammar

Vocabulary is the easiest part to transfer from one language to another. Words are borrowed from one language to another all the time. Only phonological adjustments are sometimes needed to turn a foreign word into a word in one’s native language. But borrowing other elements is much more complicated, and much less common. Languages have different structures and different linguistic preferences; what is “friendly” in one language can be very complicated in another. Many words were borrowed from biblical and mishnaic Hebrew into Israeli Hebrew over the years; some have gained additional or alternative meanings. At the same time, very few rules could be transferred in their original form from these sources into Israeli Hebrew. This is because of an interference of the revivers’ native languages, which were very different in their linguistic structures from the Hebrew sources.

When learning Hebrew grammar, we have been frequently taught that we speak Hebrew with mistakes. However, we still produce coherent speech in Israeli Hebrew, and we still comprehend other people’s speech. This means that we all share the same system of linguistic rules. True, these are not the rules “desired” by our teachers. These are other, unconscious, rules that are situated in our minds, but they are our native rules, which we master and use all the time. If we have passed the age of 12, our language system has been completed, and we have a grammar of our native language in our minds. And it is the same grammar to all speakers. Native speakers cannot make mistakes in their own language. Furthermore, what seem like “mistakes” are usually identical among all native speakers. This is an indicator that they are not mistakes, but rather rules. Only no grammarian has officially defined them yet, and they are different from the “desired” rules. Israelis, thus, do not speak Hebrew with mistakes, but rather speak a new language. This language has a set of rules different from that of biblical and mishnaic Hebrew – a new set of rules based on various origins, many of which are European languages, as elaborated herein.

Phonological characteristics

Phonology deals with everything that has to do with the sounds, syllables and intonation of a language. The typical sounds of Israeli Hebrew are very similar to the ones found in European languages. Also, all the typical sounds that are dominantly detectable in many Semitic languages are absent. These are, for example, pharyngeal, glottal and emphatic consonants. They are never noticed in Israeli Hebrew speech.

Syllables in Israeli Hebrew can contain double and triple consonant clusters. These clusters are absent from ancient forms of Hebrew. Such sequences are “forbidden” in traditional Hebrew. On the other hand, syllables having double and triple consonant clusters are typical in European languages. Such clusters were very common in Yiddish, which is the source of many characteristics of Israeli Hebrew.

Short and long vowels in spoken Israeli Hebrew can distinguish between the meanings of words, whereas in traditional Hebrew this is impossible. Thus, a difference in meaning is enabled between the words ze (this) and ze: (identical) in Israeli Hebrew speech. This difference is entailed by the short versus long vowels of the same quality. Traditional Hebrew never allows long vowels in syllable nuclei. Historically, the long vowels are explained as a result of a falling weak consonant between two short vowels. Synchronically, it is evident that vowel length makes a semantic difference between words.

Languages have “music,” that is an extra-linguistic feature of speech. This “music” varies between languages, and contains several features, one of which is intonation. Israeli Hebrew intonation is very similar to that of Yiddish, and very different from that of Semitic languages.

Morphological characteristics

Morphology deals with the way words are derived, and what is the nature of their components. The basic morphological unit in a language is called a morpheme; it is the smallest grammatical unit that represents a meaning. In English, -ness is a morpheme representing a state, as in happiness. A morpheme is not an independent component; it is always attached to another element.

Semitic languages employ a unique strategy of word formation that is based on roots and patterns. Roots and patterns are abstract morphemes, which cannot be attached one to the other. Instead, they are integrated into one another to form new words. The root contains a sequence of consonants, usually three or four, carrying a general meaning; the pattern is a linguistic structure, also carrying a general meaning. The pattern would usually contain vowels, and also reserved locations for the root consonants in between these vowels. Roots and patterns cannot be pronounced independently; their pronunciation is enabled only when being integrated into one another.

Words in Semitic languages, including traditional Hebrew words, are primarily formed by a combination of a root and a pattern. Yet, words in Israeli Hebrew are derived in many other ways, too. Indeed, there are words in Israeli Hebrew that are formed by a root-pattern derivation, such as many verbal forms. However, Israeli Hebrew speakers clearly prefer a more European-like formation of words. European-like word formation employs various concatenation processes of elements. Concatenation is typically being attached in a chain. There is a higher priority among Israelis to form new words in their language this way. By adding a suffix to a stem, or by blending two words into one, they keep the meaning of the new word more transparent. The new words represent one concept while, at the same time, they reflect the original components. Therefore, this kind of derivation has gained priority over the root-pattern strategy.

The verbal system

When looking thoroughly into the verbal system of spoken Israeli Hebrew, many questions arise. Traditional Hebrew, like other Semitic languages, has a rich verbal system based on roots and patterns. There are seven verbal patterns in traditional Hebrew, standing for role-taking and tenses. Two of them represent passive meanings, yet Israeli Hebrew employs only five verbal patterns, and no passives. Passive forms in Israeli Hebrew are very rare, uncommon and unnatural. Native speakers of the language would comprehend passive forms, but never produce them naturally.

The verbal patterns of traditional Hebrew represent tenses: past, present and future. They also include unique imperatives, one for each non-passive pattern. However, the five verbal patterns of Israeli Hebrew do not stand for tenses. They rather reflect aspects and moods, similarly to Slavic languages. Also, they have no unique imperative forms; the latter are derived from prefixed forms that represent mood. The Israeli Hebrew verbal system, in its overall structure, is not similar to any Semitic verbal system. Conversely, it is identical to the structure of the Russian verbal system; the same aspectual forms stand for the same times in the two systems.

Basic verbal stems in Israeli Hebrew are mostly created in the “Semitic” way, by the combination of roots and patterns. However, newer processes of verb formation employ the combinations of stems and affixes, as well as nouns and affixes, on the account of the traditional root-pattern formation. The use of nominals to form verbs is typical to European languages, where a noun or an adjective can easily function as a verb, with or without an affix.

The formation of a verb in Israeli Hebrew is a complicated process, which involves several semantic and morphological processes. Initially, a stem is formed, either by a root-pattern combination, or otherwise. Then, additional suffixes and/or prefixes are attached to it to denote person, gender and number. Many verbal stems are created from foreign words. These stems are governed by the foreign word’s original phonological structure. This means that the sequence of consonants and vowels in the foreign word would govern the choice of the pattern in which the final verb is created. Stems can sometimes be created from whole words, in particular nouns.

The Israeli Hebrew verbal system also contains many concatenated verbs. Concatenated verbs are combinations of at least two consequent inflected verbal elements, each is inflected separately. And no separators are allowed between the two elements; they must be consequently ordered. Concatenated verbs are not observed in other Semitic languages, nor in traditional Hebrew. They express a wide variety of more specific aspects and moods than the basic aspectual and modal notions of the single verbal forms. Concatenation processes, therefore, are a characteristic of Israeli Hebrew, in both the verbal and the nominal systems. It is a linguistic process that is uncommon in Semitic languages, and is more typical to European languages.

Language syntax

Syntax deals with the composition of phrases and clauses from single elements, and the relations between these elements within the phrase or clause. The syntactic features of Israeli Hebrew reflect almost exclusively European languages, whereas Semitic features can be hardly detected.

Each human language has a typical word order of elements in the clause. The elements in the clause are commonly represented by the letters S, V and O, standing for subject, verb and object, respectively. Semitic languages are characterized by a word order of VSO, which means that the verb is typically the first element in the clause, followed by the subject. Israeli Hebrew, however, is characterized by a word order of SVO, in which the subject precedes the verb. This word order is the default order in European languages. This is how the elements in the clause are ordered in Germanic, Roman and Slavic languages. On the other hand, nominal clauses with no verbs are allowed in Israeli Hebrew, which is a Semitic characteristic, and does not exist in European languages. This is one of very few Semitic features in Israeli Hebrew syntax.

Noun compounds in Israeli Hebrew are combinations of two consequent nominals that form a phrase having one meaning. The components of a noun compound in Israeli Hebrew can be either a sequence of two nouns, or a sequence of a noun and an adjective. Definiteness of these compounds is similar to European languages: noun compounds in Israeli Hebrew take a definite article at the beginning of the phrase, on the first component, referring to the whole phrase as one unit of meaning. This is parallel to making, for example, the English term “go-between” definite by adding the definite article before the first component, as in “the go-between.” Semitic languages, including normative Hebrew, typically take the definite article on the second component of the term.

Nouns and adjectives in Semitic languages have gender. During speech, Semitic languages require a gender and number agreement between elements in the speech sequence. Israeli Hebrew has gender distinction in nouns and adjectives. However, gender and number agreement in Israeli Hebrew speech works only one way: backwards. It exists only when referring to a previously mentioned element. When an element is expected to agree in gender and/or number with a following element, it never does. It appears in its unmarked form, usually the masculine singular. This one-way agreement rule is apparent in all the language systems – verbs, nouns, adjectives, etc. Standing out are the numerals that in Semitic languages have two forms: masculine and feminine. Israeli Hebrew, apart from the numeral one, employs only one form for both genders. The use of neutral numbers and the distinction in the numeral one is also employed in Roman languages.

Summary

Israeli Hebrew has not evolved directly from earlier Hebrew forms. It was created artificially, employing, although unconsciously, mixed rules from many languages, including earlier forms of Hebrew. This way, some of the original Hebrew characteristics, which are Semitic, could be preserved, whereas at least as many were “imported” from other, European, languages. (See G. Zuckermann, “A New Vision for ‘Israeli Hebrew’: Theoretical and Practical Implications of Analyzing Israel’s Main Language as a Semi-Engineered Semito-European Hybrid Language,” Journal of Modern Jewish Studies 5, no. 1 (2006): 57-71.)

So, has the revival of Hebrew ever occurred?

We are nearing Chanukah, and Chanukah is about miracles. Perhaps the miracle of Hebrew revival never happened, but another miracle has certainly taken place: the emergence of a new language. A language whose number of speakers has been increasing, and which is alive and evolving. It has a short history of 130 years – it does not go back thousands of years – but its emergence is at least as miraculous as the revival of a language, and as impressive.

Nurit Dekel is principal linguist at NSC-Natural Speech Communication, an academic researcher of Colloquial Israeli Hebrew teaching at the Levinsky College of Education, Tel Aviv, and the author of Colloquial Israeli Hebrew: A Corpus-based Survey (Walter de Gruyter & Co., 2014). She thanks David J. Swykert (magicmasterminds.com/djswykert) for reviewing this essay and providing very insightful comments.

Time to put the Hebrew back

With the school year in full swing, and with Chanukah just beginning, I’d like to take the opportunity to offer a single wish for Jewish community life in Canada. It’s quite specific and straightforward but, I believe, far-reaching.

I hope and wish that our community’s supplementary and day school teachers would speak Hebrew to their students. In other words, I’d like to see us put the Hebrew back in Hebrew school.

Having experienced more than one supplementary school via my own kids, this column is not meant to impugn any particular school, but rather is meant to capture a troubling dynamic I’ve witnessed in more than one place, and with more than one teacher.

For example, seldom have I heard the teachers say the simplest of Hebrew phrases – such as boker tov (good morning) – to the kids when greeting them. As I picked up my kids recently, I puzzled over why the teacher was asking the students to put the chairs on the tables in English when Hebrew would work beautifully for a simple command involving two common nouns.

Some months ago, I approached one school director about my concern, citing Ottawa’s very successful French immersion program as a model. (Recall that, until recently in Ottawa, where I live, kindergarten classes were only a couple of hours per day, showing that even direct application of spoken French in a limited time can have profound results.) The director’s response was that, for French immersion schools, French is akin to a religion. Here, on the other hand, the director explained, “We are in the business of teaching kids how to be Jews.”

I’ve been mulling over the distinction since then. Is Hebrew language acquisition conceptually distinct from “teaching kids to be Jews”?

Now, admittedly, I’m one of the more passionate Hebrew-philes there is, having elected to speak only Hebrew to my kids since they were infants. I realize not everyone shares my obsession for Hebrew and Israeli sitcoms, music and news.

I decided to tackle that director’s implication. I started by thinking about the one Hebrew word that virtually everyone living in a North American city knows. By dint of the craze around Christmas, probably the first Hebrew word children learn – even before shalom, ima or Shabbat – is Chanukah.

Now, most everyone knows that Chanukah is the name of the Jewish holiday commemorating the Maccabees’ victory over the Assyrian-Greeks. But, how many of us actually know the literal meaning of the word? Here’s a further challenge: I would wager that knowing the literal meaning of the word Chanukah provides key links to three seemingly unrelated things: a) better recall of the meaning of the holiday, b) an understanding of the causes of the First Intifada, and c) a deeper conceptualization of the entire relationship between Jewish identity and education.

So, here goes. Chanukah is the Hebrew word for dedication or inauguration. Knowing this would help kids remember that central to the holiday was the rededication of the Second Temple, and would render intelligible the chanukat ha’mizbayach phrase in the popular holiday song whose Hebrew words often register in kids’ minds as gibberish, unless they are schooled in the language.

Chanukat ha’bayit is also the Hebrew phrase for housewarming. A bit of modern Israeli political history reveals that Ariel Sharon’s provocative Muslim Quarter housewarming party in December 1987, during Chanukah, is understood by many political observers to have helped fuel the first Palestinian intifada. (Perhaps his housewarming party was meant to be a word play on the Festival of Lights, falling as it was at the same time. Perhaps not, but it also serves as a useful memory mnemonic for students of Israeli politics.)

Finally, all Hebrew words derive from a three-letter root. The root of Chanukah is the same as the root for chinuch (education) and for chanich (camper, initiate). In other words, in a beautiful piece of poetic connection, understanding Hebrew can be seen to be an early step of being initiated into the Jewish people in a meaningful way. In any event, the idea of education in Jewish life – whether formal, through school, or informal, through camps and youth groups – is meant to remind kids they are joining something much larger than themselves. And that can only be helped by being regularly exposed to the rich and eternally clever language of our people.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. This article was originally published in the Ottawa Jewish Bulletin.