Rosh Hashanah

Spending Rosh Hashanah with my family, including Grandma and Zev, was very nice. Instead of going to the services on Friday night, we simply had a nice dinner of brisket from Wegmans (though I thought Mom's was much better). That was the first Rosh Hashanah that I have in my memory that my family skipped the evening services. I was uncomfortable at first because I wanted to get my hands on the Hebrew prayer book and read it in Hebrew, let my new knowledge open up the mystery of the language in there.

The morning services changed my opinion. While I was kind of able to follow the cantorial singing in Hebrew, I had a horrible time placing my finger on the Torah and Haftarah portions in my book. The pronounciation was mostly off and without understanding. Zev and I cringed and muttered the portion to ourselves quietly. I kept looking over to Zev's book to see if he could figure out where we were..half the time...

To hear Americans read and speak in Hebrew really woke me up. I gained a greater respect and appreciation for the Israelis who really do understand the language, even though we're all Jews. The Israelis are special. They deserve a lot of credit... Learning Hebrew takes a lot of patience to do it right. My only wish is that if the Israelis really heard how "well" Americans speak Hebrew, then they would be more willing to work with the Americans on their Hebrew. The rabbis also deserve some credit because they do have to study the Torah, which involves learning the language and being able to chant it right. I also realize the difference in American and Israeli pronounciation, especially with the kaf, rash, and the stresses on the plural form.

Even though Israelis are the native speakers of this old language, does it make them the "experts" on its usage? You could argue that it's an accent thing. Then, well, if they are the native speakers and Hebrew has beens spoken in that land, then isn't Israeli Hebrew the real deal? That any student learning Hebrew, anywhere in the world, should learn Israeli Hebrew? Or should I call it just Hebrew because that's the way to speak it if the Israelis set the standard?

I e-mailed my Hebrew teacher about my experience. She responded that some people might've confused some of the words with Yiddish pronounciation or mostly just the accent. Confusion with Yiddish? Maybe for the old folks!

Nevertheless, I smiled as I read my prayer book, solely in Hebrew, realizing that what I thought was impossible was possible.

When I ran my half-marathon yesterday, the course and the pain that I endured in my full marathon a year ago was much less. Even though I ran faster this time around (9:07 minute/mile compared to 9:47 min/mile), the race itself felt great, effortless and enjoyable. My dad reasoned that he didn't need to see me cross the finish line because it would be an easy race for me compared to my marathon. Though there were challenging times on the course, I thought about what I endured during my marathon- the feeling of hitting 18-21 mile marks, the monotone setting along the water (yes it gets boring after a while), and the constant loneliness and need to monitor my health- all of these were trivial in this half-marathon. It was eerie for me to see the Mile 21 marker when my route merged with the full marathon's because I knew what it took just to get there. A lot of will and drive. And sacrifice.

So use that analogy for my Hebrew learning experience. At first all the learning seems scary but if you hit it hard upfront, no matter how inexperienced you are, you'll gain a lot. All other races will seem quite easy later. The learning becomes more enjoyable because you've endured the toughest test: the intensity of training.

And I think I'm supposed to be studying a bit for my Wednesday's small oral conversational talk in the morning....yikes!