Word games
Filed under: Business, design, education, Entertainment, General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life
It’s Bananagram time. Hebrew Bananagrams. For the uninitiated, Bananagrams is Scrabble un-boarded, kind of Scrabble and Boggle combined, with each player working fast to create words out of their tiles. It’s fun, it’s fast, not quite as fast or competitive as Grab-Scrabble or Anagrams, but since it was created by a fellow Anglo immigrant, I’m partial to trying it out. Even though there’s really no way I can play a Hebrew word game well, even after 16 years in this country.
The story’s like this. Robert Dalfen, a Montrealer, and his family were playing the English-language Bananagrams on a Shabbat afternoon with their kids’ Hebrew-speaking friends looking on enviously. When challenged to create a Hebrew version of this still fairly new game, the Dalfens agreed, and have now set out to sell their Hebrew version.
It’s ironic, in a way, that an English-speaking family is introducing a Hebrew-language game to the Israeli public. But for the Dalfens – self-described word games-aholics – the venture fell into their laps.
So wrote Viva Sarah Press in a recent piece for the Canadian Jewish News. And it’s true, it is ironic. But not so ironic that an Israeli family, yes, immigrant, but still imbued with a certain Israeli mentality, decided to create and sell something on its own. This is a place filled with entrepreneurs, of all types.
Check it out — it’s a great game whether in Hebrew or English, but it is a great way to improve your Hebrew, perhaps with a dictionary by your side, as an accepted handicap.
Entrepreneurs at the tent protests
Guy Sharett
Some people see the housing tent protests that continue to sweep the country as a chance to change society and bring social justice to the strolling masses. Politicians have latched on as a way to score some electoral points. Others see it as, well, an entrepreneurial opportunity.
Guy Sharett fits into the last category. He realized that newcomers to Israel or those without “street” Hebrew, so to speak, might miss out on the nuances of the hundreds of signs and banners that line the tent cities and protest marches. So he put up an event on Facebook promising “a special Hebrew lesson through the slogans of the housing protest on Rothschild Boulevard in Tel Aviv.”
He goes on: “We’ll walk through the tents, read the signs, translate them, analyze the Israeli psyche and grammar, talk to the protesters and what not.” He encourages participants to bring a notebook to write down new words and a camera “so you can do your homework.”
The idea at first sounded a bit sleazy to me – making money on other people’s misfortune. But when I was a regular in Hebrew ulpan, the most interesting lessons were those that dealt with real world issues, whether it was reading the newspaper and listening to the radio news, or understanding a bill from the electric company or an advertisement for an air conditioner. Sharett is just following in a noble tradition…and one that will help recent immigrants better acclimate to the brave new world of social justice.
The price for one of Sharett’s tours is only NIS 40 for the tour (he doesn’t say how long it lasts) and some of the proceeds will go to supporting the Rothschild Tents Kitchen. The next one leaves tonight at 6:00 PM from the corner of Rothschild and Allenby. More details on his Facebook page.
Hebrewman
Filed under: Art, coexistence, General, History and Culture, Israeliness, Music, Pop Culture
Marwa Abdel Karim sings a song by Sarit Haddad (photo: AFP)
There are nearly no Jews left in Iraq, but modern Hebrew is still being taught at Baghdad University to some 150 students, according to a recent AFP story. Never mind that learning the language was banned from the 1930s, there is a Hebraic department in the university, and in addition to learning the language, they recently held a festival of Hebrew songs and poetry.
The AFP reporter who wrote the story told of Marwa Abdel Karim singing “Filled With Love” (or Ahava Betochi), a Sarit Hadad song, to her fellow students. She found the song online, and is also somewhat bemused by her choice of language. But despite her friends’ ridicule and parents’ disappointment, she plans on continuing her studies in Amman and then wants to teach at her alma mater.
At one time, Hebrew-speaking Iraqis could get a job with former president Saddam Hussein’s intelligence services. But now that terrorism is the country’s major security concern, those jobs are much harder to find. Ahmed Saadun, another student of Hebrew, said he would check out the foreign affairs ministry and newspapers when he graduates. Still, he told the AFP reporter, he’s aware of the ironies in his situation.
Here’s the real thing, by Sarit Hadad:
Hootenany
Filed under: A New Reality, General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life, Music, Travel
I’m making the list and checking it twice. Today, after way too many years of abstinence, I’m making my way to the Kinnreret for the annual Jacob’s Ladder Folk Festival.
Much more than a folk festival though, the event, which my colleague Brian Blum has nicely profiled here, is more like a gathering of friends. The English speaking community in Israel is rather insular anyway, and at Jacob’s Ladder, it’s inevitable that you’ll run into friends, acquaintances, and people that just look familiar – and before you know it, you’re sitting around their tent site with a beer.
On 364 days of the year, those of us who immigrated to Israel do our best to integrate into Israeli society – speaking Hebrew, yelling at the makolet, fitting in and adapting to the national holidays. But for one weekend of the year, we’re able to revert to our American – or British or Irish – heritage, kick back, listen to good music, drink beer, talk in English and camp out in a mellow atmosphere.
That’s not to say that it’s like an idyllic New England stream – it’s still wall to wall people, like anywhere else in Israel. But because most of the attendees probably recall in their past that idyllic setting, or something similar to it, there’s more of an effort to recreate it – and more leeway given than in a general Israeli setting.
I’ve been told that the number of native Israelis – whether children of original attendees, or music lovers or people who appreciate Americana – has risen in recent years, but they too, for the most part, have adopted the neighborly, pick up after yourself habits of the veterans.
So, frisbee? check. Cooler of beer? check. That’s all, I’m there.
Israeli travel
Filed under: A New Reality, Food, General, History and Culture, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life
Strauss in Cape Town Pick 'n Pay
But what’s also amusing about travel, something I hadn’t embarked on since doing this mother-of-twins thing, is the inherent Israeliness of long distance travel. On one hand, you have to travel beyond Israel in order to leave Israel, and it’s just very enjoyable to travel among other nationalities. We flew Lufthansa, and it wasn’t a bad thing to fly on a non El Al flight. People stay in their seats when they’re supposed to, the lines for the bathroom are shorter, and there isn’t a minyan taking place in every empty corner.
While we were in South Africa, we heard no Hebrew, except for our very last day, on the top of Table Mountain, when we came upon another Israeli family — that is, a ‘real’ Israeli family, not former Americans like ourselves — although we didn’t make ourselves known to them. But there were moments when we found ourselves missing the Israeliness of our usual life, and when we sought out the bits and pieces that are so familiar to us. One day, it was the sighting of the Strauss dairy symbol on an ice cream freezer. Granted, it’s the logo used by Unilever, which owns 51% of the company but still, exciting to see the familiar red-and-white heart on a freezer full of Magnum bars. On another day, it was the shelf full of Israeli products in a local grocery store, and we found ourselves picking up a bag of Osem pretzels and animal crackers, in spite of our pleasure in discovering and eating local products. And while we certainly don’t schlep Elite coffee or soup nuts wherever we go, we did proudly present a box of Krembos as a Chanukah treat for our hosts’ kids. And of course we spoke Hebrew to one another whenever we needed to speak without being understood by those around us.
And then, as we packed up to head home and made our way to the airport, there were the snatches of Hebrew heard when we reached Frankfurt, our more-than-halfway mark home. It was surprisingly comforting to hear that familiar language, and to lapse into it with fellow passengers. We exchanged travel stories, found out where we’re each from back home and helped one another out wherever possible. Given that we were flying Lufthansa, there was no clapping of hands when we landed in Tel Aviv, but we all glanced at one another, those in the know, and gave each other wide smiles. It’s good to travel and it’s great to come home.
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