I grew up in a home where Yiddish and Yinglish were spoken – especially when someone said, "Sha. Not in front of the kinder!" Never have seven words so tantalized us. So naturally, by age eight, our fluency in Yiddish was mostly limited to the bad words.
Most frustrating were the jokes. Picture it. Our relatives around the table, listening to Uncle Hymie tell a joke – in broken English. After deliciously, Yinglishly described farmers, shlimazls, and a trainload of evil soldiers, these stories took at least 15 minutes to set up. There we were, my brother and I, along with a myriad of young cousins, listening raptly, eager to hear the punch line already. Finally, Uncle Hymie would puff up for his big finish ... "And then the shlimazl said ............... A finstere cholem auf dein kopf und auf dein hent und fiss."
Wha ...?!
The adults would collapse, repeating the ending. "But what did the shlimazl say?!" we'd beg. Their tears of hysteria in free-fall, they'd reply in unison, "Not in front of the kinder!"
We grew up punch line-challenged. It was clear when our relatives came here, they relished their inalienable right to say what they wanted, when they wanted in Yiddish – and torture us.
They relished their inalienable right to say what they wanted, when they wanted in Yiddish – and torture us.
Even as a child, I understood the power of Yiddish. Never in the history of language have so few words stood "in" for so many. For example, the word "mensch" means "person." But when a Yiddish-speaker uses it to make a point, it means a person. A gutte neshuma. A mensch among menches. (He's the one who donates to Israel and doesn't want a dinner in his honor.) That one word is a small thesaurus of adjectives for humanity, integrity, and goodness. Such is the majesty of Yiddish.
In fact there are thoughts I simply can't express without Yiddish. "Chutzpah" means "nerve." But way more. In humor or anger, English just doesn't cut it. Listen...
"Mrs. Farber had the nerve to bring her own turkey to our house for Thanksgiving.""Mrs. Farber had the chutzpah to shlep her own turkey to our house on Thanksgiving!"
The first is way too polite, and probably ends the issue. The second is felt down to the spleen. "What an insult! Did that yenta think I wouldn't make enough? Was that witch showing off her hotsy totsy silver serving plate? Can you believe a normal human would do such a thing?! This, I'm getting to the bottom of!"
"Nerve" wouldn't make it onto the runway.
In the whole of Yiddish, there's no word that constitutes an emotional dictionary more than -- "oy." Those two little letters can indicate surprise, pain, relief, despair, or horror – for starters. The meaning varies from, "Oy, I gained five pounds" to "The IRS is auditing?! Oy Vey!" (The "Vey" adding more woe to the "oy.") Bigger than "too bad," it comes from the kishkas of Jewish trials.
On a similar note, "nu" registers anything from a sigh, a grimace, a sneer, to a grunt. Together, "oy" and "nu" make a Yiddish symphony!
"Nu?" said Dora.
"Nu," said Ruthie
"Nu??" said Leah
"Alright, already," said Dora. "This week I'll bring the bobka to Sisterhood."
Add a bissel superstition to the language of the persecuted and you get exquisitely executed euphemism and criticism. Heaven forbid anyone should think anything's going well, the evil eye may snatch it. Many a Yiddishe parent felt it was safer not to tempt fate by "happy" talk – or over-talking.
"So, your son moved to Park Avenue?"
"Eh ... it's a street.""Mazel Tov! Your Rachel just got promoted!"
"Let's hope she keeps it.""The pool dad put in is great."
"With his mazel he'll break his back with his swan dives."
My family, as most Yiddish speakers who came to the Golden Land, learned English, or more precisely, "Yinglish." But they held onto their "untranslatable" words, cadences, and style, while creating zingy new word meanings. Especially when the need for sarcasm arose, which, of course, was always.
If the Queen uses the word "lovely," you kvell. If my late mother said it, my brother and I would get excema. Here's what she'd say ... and what she meant.
"Darling, on you, it looks lovely." (Burn it.)
"Joshua, your girlfriend? Lovely, just lovely." (Bring me the Rolaids.)
"Mamala, your gift ... it was a lovely thought." (You couldn't have a better one?)
Which brings us to the Queen of Yinglish – the Question! Between a religion that reveres the Art of Debate, and our precarious relationship with the world, answering a question with a question was safer. I was 25 before I'd commit to a declarative sentence. A typical discussion: MA: "Uncle Moe told me a single lawyer joined the Temple. So come this Friday?"
ME: "How's Uncle David?"
DAD: "Would it kill you to come?"
ME: "Is his prostate still acting up?"
MA: "What are we, proctologists?
ME: "Will you ask him?
MA and DAD: "Oy ... why do we bother?"
My late mother also gestured to ward off evil eyes. One of her favorites was the ubiquitous, ever handy – spit. Heaven forbid, she'd say, "I hope my son passed his entrance exams – spitspitspit"– the neighbors could water their lawns.
"I hope my son passed his entrance exams – spitspitspit"– the neighbors could water their lawns.
To be fair, my family also learned "Englishisms." There was the great debate of 1968. Someone raised the question: "How do you say 'Happy Birthday' in Yiddish?" Oy, such goings on! My mother was stumped, and therein began a Yiddish version of "telephone" that could rival the Israeli underground. Ma called Tanta Norma who pretended to know. Dad asked the rabbi who referred us to a Yiddish teacher for a "literal" translation. Uncle Giddy disagreed violently. Cousin Malka, our first Ivy League graduate, cogitated. Clearly, the cheery phrase wasn't part of the Yiddish lexicon when running from Cossacks. A delegation met. Ma served cake. Finally, bubbe, virtual lightbulb overhead yelled her version of "Eureka!" A hush descended as our matriarch, swelling with pride, announced, "... The Yiddish is.... 'Heppy Boyzay!'"
Today, they're gone, these Yiddish speakers of my youth. I miss them every day. Yet their voices still echo. The words spoken in shtetls throughout Europe reverberate with a richness that is far more a Jewish experience, than merely a language.
My mother always called me 'a shaineh maidel.' When she died, I remember thinking no one in the world would ever call me a shaineh maidel again ... and mean quite the same thing.
Marnie Winston-Macauley is the author of "Yiddishe Mamas: The Truth About the Jewish Mother" and the award-winning "A Little Joy, A Little Oy" 2008 calendar. Her 2009 calendar can be pre-ordered on Amazon.
(25) DCTdesigns, September 6, 2013 4:48 PM
meshugenah? Let's kibbitz....
Marnie,
I can not count the ways I love this story. I grew up on the East Coast and Yiddish became a regular part of my vocabulary. I love Yididsh unlike any other language because it always sounds like what it means. I understand verklempt just by saying it. You can feel the words.
The other day my friends husband was meeting us at a concert. We had a few glasses of wine and while pondering the level of our inebriation he responded via text "Oy". We simply replied "Vey!"
But this story captures so much more! I could just plotz!
(24) Alex, August 4, 2012 12:35 PM
Yiddish ... a funny language and so easy to understand!
Hi there, Swiss German (which as Yiddish is not equal to German) is my mother tongue. Furthermore I am fluent in German, French, Italian and English. I do not speak any Yiddish (besides the words used in Swiss German). However, for us Yiddish is as easy to understand as to walk. In my view Yiddish is an incredibly charming language that makes me smile ...
(23) Anonymous, May 27, 2011 8:29 PM
thanks
Such memories of my own family, especially my own late mother and aunt! Thank you for bringing them to mind.
(22) Shmelke, October 28, 2010 5:27 PM
A finstire chalom...means
"A dark dream on your head on your hand and on your foot." I don't know why that's funny or rude... Guess you had to be there. I saw a site called www.yiddishacademy.com for learning Yiddish.
(21) Rankie F, September 27, 2010 12:59 AM
Oy, you left us hanging!
Oh, you left us hanging! What means "A finstere cholem auf dein kopf und auf dein hent und fiss."?
(20) Dvirah, May 29, 2008 1:53 PM
Talk about Chuzpah
The word may have originally come from the Aramaic...but look what we did to it!
(19) JACK MALIN, May 27, 2008 3:14 PM
Correction for Daniel''s correction in comment #1 dated 5/27/08
While "huspa" may be Aramic and means the same as "Chutspa" since the "chu" (which sounds as though your bringing up some stubborn phlem) presents a different emphasis and meaning than the soft spoken eloquent Aramic "Hu".
Jack Malin
(18) Daniel, May 27, 2008 9:43 AM
"Chutzpah" is not originally Yiddiah
For years it has been believed, erroneously, that "chuzpah" is originally a Yiddish word. Not quite. It comes from the Aramaic ''huspa" and it kept the same meaning as in Yiddish.
(17) Phil Peltz, May 26, 2008 1:15 PM
Superb
Well-written, humorous and oh, so accurate.
Hi Marnie.
(16) renee k, May 22, 2008 9:58 AM
so true ...I miss it greatly
i connect with everything that was said . I have no one left with whom to use yiddish sayings in my conversation . It used to make my mother so happy and pleased to hear me use each saying so precisely fitting the situation. only a yiddish word will do to convey a whold picture.
(15) Sona, May 21, 2008 9:16 PM
Whenever I start to read a story that I know will be filled with Yinglish, I get nervous that I will miss a word or two or three. This one I understood 100%. So nu? when is the next one?
(14) A Yeedle, May 21, 2008 5:37 PM
Yiddish Mishkebabble
At a frum chassunah one of the waiters is going around all the tables saying "Tthe kallahs a zoineh, the kallahs a zoineh"
His bad luck and he ends up saying it to the kallah''s father.
"What the hell are you telling everyone that for?!", he screamed at the waiter! "I don''t know", he answered, "the caterer told me to say it".
The father storms up to the caterer, a good heimeshe yid and screams at him "How dare you tell the waiter to go around telling everyone that my daughter is a zoineh!!"
.....The caterer starts to laugh, making the father even madder and says, "I told him to tell everyone that ... the challahs are mezoines!" J
(13) tova wald, May 21, 2008 9:53 AM
A wonderful warmhearted article that goes right to our Yiddishe Neshama. (Yes, "Those were the Days!!!) I enjoy Yiddish and appreciate it more and more as I get older--next week I will be 69. I take part in a Yiddish Club that meets every Monday to hear different programs. Next Monday, 26th May there''s going to be a special "furshtelung" of "A Fidlar Oifen Dach." according to Sholom Aleichem. The performers are young students! from the Pelech School in Jerusalem. The address: Beit HaHavrah Naymat, Rehov Sholom Aleichem 10 (opposite the Panorama Hotel, corner Jabotinsky). Time: 5:00. Admission: 15 shekels.
I hope this can get printed in the "Visitors Comments" which is my initiative only.
THANKS!
(12) Tova, May 21, 2008 9:48 AM
So true
Just the other day I talked to one of my friends, both of us recently having lost our mothers,about some of the same things the author mentions. How sad it is that no one in my life calls me a sheynah maydeleh or her cat a gonif or even says oy gevalt. Just her intonation of saying, nu? Unfortunately, most of my connection with Yiddish passed away with my mother. Though she was American born, it was a part of her so completely.
(11) Liliana Lucki, May 21, 2008 8:02 AM
Recuerdo a mi madre con la suya, las reuniones de mi infancia.Siento una inmensa ternura,ojala se recupere
el yddish,como idioma cotidiano..
lilianalucki.blogspot.com Argentina
(10) Aron, May 21, 2008 7:30 AM
Was Uncle Hymie speaking Yiddish?
What kind of Yiddish was Uncle Hymie speaking in that punchline that ended with: "...auf dein kopf und auf dein hent und fiss."? It should have sounded more like, "...oif dein kohp uhn oif deineh hent uhn feess." Unless, of course, Hymie was using the "Western" dialect (which I have never heard or am even sure it exists), or some other very Germanic-type dialect. But not likely. Even my Austro-Hungarian relatives, who could speak an unadulterated & fluent German when required, would always revert to their Galitzianisher-accented Eastern Yiddish for family &/or social situations. Azoy!
(9) raye, May 21, 2008 6:35 AM
Top this one
A child yelling up to her mother who is looking out of a fifth floor window:
"Mamah, shneid mir up, shmir mir un und varf mir arunter a shtickel breit mit puter." "Mama, cut me up, smear me on and throw me down a piece of bread with butter."
(8) Carol Jacobs, May 20, 2008 8:21 PM
Bernard Yablin
As someone who works in the Chassidic community, their Yiddish is different than mine. My vocabulary, my pronunciations, my idiomatic expressions often differ from theirs. They tell me my Yiddish is old and European, no wonder, I learned it from my grandmother more years ago than I care to tell about, and it all came back after many years of not speaking the language.
(7) Anonymous, May 20, 2008 7:43 PM
untranslatable
"langsum und dightluch" in Yiddish so meaningful with just three words, takes a paragraph, at least, to translate it into English. It describes someone who is slow and easy, if I don''t get it done today, I will get it done tomorrow, says "I''m coming when I get there", mellow, laid back, and yet these definitions are still missing something expressed in those three words
(6) rhodagoldstein, May 20, 2008 3:39 PM
ah sweet memories
To my dying day I shall always remember all of the Jewish things I was taught by my Bubbie.It is something I wish I could pass on to my "heirs"
(5) Nettie Price, May 20, 2008 1:10 PM
The Joys of Marnie
Coming from a Yiddish speaking family, I can relate to every thought Marnie has captured in her article. Reading it is like re-living the days long gone. She is very articulate and expresses herself very well. Her writing is easy to read, enjoyable,truthful and from the heart. It is almost like reading her diary entries. Thank you Marnie for sharing your thoughts with us.
(4) Professor Irv Quentsel, May 20, 2008 12:55 PM
THANKS, AISH and MS. WINSTON-MACAULEY
As a teacher of Jewish affairs, I have, of course, read (and used)thousands of articles and books on the theme.
I was, nevertheless, truly impressed and very moved by this piece. As a writer (of scholarly material, that''s largely unread :)) I know how difficult it is to author a short article that is at once, rich in meaning, and more, sentiment. I have read other pieces by this author and must compliment both the author and AISH for providing this level of material. I have shared it with my classes as an example of superior writing as well as suberb use of the short form to make a large point.
Congratulations!
Dr. Irv.
(3) Jan Wolfe, May 20, 2008 11:55 AM
Don''t say kaddish over Yiddish yet.
What a wonderful article, but let''s not throw dirt on the casket yet. Sotries like hers keeps the words in our mouhts. Even my non-Jewish friends have learned (and used) Yiddish because it is so wonderful. The Shaina Maidel is still a winner.
(2) Anne Burns, May 19, 2008 2:43 AM
Jewish culture at it''s best!
Yiddush and classic Jewish humor is a dying art. We need folks like Marnie to keep it all going for generations to come.
(1) Bernard Yablin, May 18, 2008 7:55 AM
well done!
A good summary of what''s left of Yiddish in America------except for the Chassidim