Frontier Outposts

So in a month I’ll be done with ulpan. Not just with this ulpan, but with Ulpan. Not only do I not have money for another ulpan, but also I don’t have enough time (army in July…anybody?), and also finding my level would be a bit of a challenge since most places only offer the first couple levels. It’s a bit weird thinking that in a month I’ll be out in the real world, learning Hebrew in the real world.

For all the language learning I’ve done in my life (mainly Hebrew, French, Latin…and a bit of Arabic, Yiddish and Italian…), I’ve never had to learn a language in the real world. I’ve always learned languages in classrooms, in a very structured way.

I’d use some kind of simile about learning how to ride a bike, but in fact beginning my real world Hebrew studies is actually going to be less scary than learning how to ride a bike. See, in most normal families you learn how to ride a two-wheeler bike first by riding with training wheels….then by removing the training wheels and having a parent hold onto you and guide you until you’re okay on your own. This is kind of like learning Hebrew in the US in a classroom, then doing ulpan in Israel, and then just learning by living in Israel—which is exactly what I’ve been doing and will do.

In my family, however, all of us learned how to ride bikes by being placed at the top of an enormous hill. Our mother would place a helmet on us, give us a kiss, and put us on a bike. And then my dad would shove our bicycle down the slope. We’d then go flying down the hill on the bicycle, hear our dad let out a kind of “yeeeehaaww!!!” from the top of the hill, and then it was up to us to try to figure out how to control the bicycle. When you’re scared shitless like that and going approximately Mach 3 down a steep hill, you figure out how to ride a bicycle pretty quickly.

My point is that, on the bright side, my learning Hebrew in the real world without class is not going to be as terrifying this. Although maybe it’s a shame that I won’t be learning Hebrew like I learned to ride a bicycle, because my family’s bicycle method was actually quite successful…

I suppose that’s the joy of being young. If it came down to it, I COULD learn to deal with Hebrew and Israeli society the same way I learned how to ride a bike. You could just shove me down a hill and hope for the best. And if, just as it did the first time I got shoved down a hill on a bike, a child’s ball rolls into my path and I slam into it and end up flipping off my bike….I can laugh about it (you can bet my parents were laughing their asses off at the top of the hill), and I can climb back up to the top of the hill and try again. I’m 20, I can try and fail again and again when it comes to learning Hebrew and becoming Israeli.

I worry about some of my older classmates and some of my older ulpan-mates in the lower levels. I’m basically still a kid—I still have the army and university ahead of me, which means plenty of Hebrew practice and interaction with Israelis before I have to start my “real” life. G-d willing, after university I should have no trouble (at least in terms of language) working in any Israeli workplace. But there are some people in the ulpan that are over thirty or in their late twenties, and immediately after ulpan have to start their lives. And if they flip off their metaphoric bikes….it’s not funny like it is for me.

There’s no university or army in their future, so they have to find respectable jobs immediately. And because they don’t speak enough Hebrew yet, they have to take jobs which allow them to work in their native languages. Which means that they get themselves on a path of being surrounded only by English-speakers (or some other language), which means their Hebrew doesn’t improve and they get no interaction with Israelis. Basically their life in Israel is going to be lived in some kind of bizarre American or English frontier outpost, surrounded by “savages” whose language and culture they don’t understand.

What I’m about to say I say without the benefit of hindsight—I don’t know if I’m going to have a successful aliyah at the end of the day. I don’t know if I’ll end up staying here beyond my army service, or if I’ll end up raising a family here or end up speaking perfectly fluent Hebrew. I don’t know. For all I know, my connection to Israeli society is never going to improve.
Also, what I’m about to say is practical, rather than Zionist. Anyway, here’s my thought:

If you are considering making aliyah after the age where you can either do the army or at least attend university IN HEBREW WITH ISRAELIS (meaning, not the English-language universities here that attract mostly foreign students)….don’t. Just don’t.

Unless, of course, you’re comfortable with never being fluent in the language and you’re comfortable with never really understanding Israeli society. I say this with the experience of meeting Americans/English who have been in Israel for decades yet still don’t speak Hebrew past gimmel level (Level 3, out of 7 Levels—6 levels of learning, 7th is fluency), and who basically mingle exclusively with fellow Anglo immigrants.

If you’re comfortable with that….then great, feel free to make aliyah at age 40, whatever. If you’re like me and not comfortable with that….then….well……I don’t want to recommend something that is not Zionist, but figure it out…

Maybe this is kind of weird of me, but something my grandma said a year ago gave me some kind of inspiration, She said that growing up she was in this youth program that prepared them for aliyah—they learned Hebrew and some “basic skills” that would serve them in Israel. I asked my grandma what she meant by “basic skills,” but she refused to elaborate, making me suspect that this had something to do with weaponry. Anyway, my grandma didn’t end up making aliyah because she met my grandpa at a young age and he refused to go, but the fact is that basically at any moment after the age of 15 or whatever had she found herself in Israel she would have been prepared. Sure, she wouldn’t have been fluent immediately, and there’d be a lot to get used to, but she would have a great base to start from.
Nowadays there are so many young Jews who know little to no Hebrew and know little to nothing about Israel. They can’t just up and come to Israel at a moment’s notice without feeling totally lost and out of place. Heck, even many of the orthodox, with all their Jewish education, come to Israel and can’t even have a simple exchange in Hebrew with a shopkeeper in Jerusalem. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.

This is why aliyah isn’t exactly a popular option: it’s too much of a hassle and ordeal, learning how to communicate.

Anyway, what I’ve decided to do when I’m older is to restart the kind of program that my grandma was in. My thought is that in an ideal world, any Jew above Bar Mitzvah age—whether orthodox or completely secular--should know enough Hebrew and enough about Israel that they could be airdropped into Israel and get by. (Actually, in an ideal world all the Jews would already be in Israel, but there we are….).