This Grandma, born in a displaced person’s camp in Germany, knew the power of the Yiddish language from the phrases my parents used and the stories my parents told. One such story was that President Eisenhower had gathered together Yiddish speaking American soldiers stationed in Europe to come to the displaced persons’ camps after World War II ended, with truckloads of telephone books from around the United States, to ask the Holocaust survivors if they had any relatives in the United States so the soldiers could write to the relatives and tell them that the survivors were alive. This simple compassionate and humanitarian act by a great general changed this Grandma’s life, and knows that it changed the lives of so many others.
Yiddish is “a language used by Jews in central and eastern Europe before the Holocaust. It was originally a German dialect with words from Hebrew and several modern languages and is today spoken mainly in the U.S., Israel, and Russia.” Yiddish was the language through which the American soldiers communicated with the Holocaust survivors in the displaced persons camps in Europe seventy years ago. Yiddish, spoken by millions before World War II, is in danger of perishing with the six million Jews murdered.
Yiddish was one of the first languages this Grandma spoke, and today, some of those words are still so meaningful to explain and interpret modern life experience. At this point, my knowledge of the language is fading. I know I try to use some of the expressions with my own grandchildren to keep the language alive, but most of those still speaking Yiddish are dying.
The New York Times on August 15, 2106, reported on the death of a famous comic star of Yiddish Theatre, Fyvush Finkel, who died at 93. This Grandma, near age 70, was already too young to know Yiddish theatre, and as the article mentioned, as immigrants who were Holocaust survivors and stateless, my parents wanted to be Americans and partake in everything American. Yiddish theatre was the past, even in the 1940’s, but Yiddish jokes and the language itself remained. The author, Joseph Berger, ends the obituary with a story told by Mr. Finkel, who survived in entertainment throughout his life by moving to television:
“Mr. Finkel savored his memories of the Yiddish theater and loved to entertain interviewers with stories from that lost world. There was, for example, the one about the Yiddish actor who asks a woman to wake up her husband, who is snoring in the theater’s front row. She replies: “You wake him up. You put him to sleep.”
As it is now okay for those of us connected to the Holocaust to speak of it, it is becoming fashionable to again speak Yiddish, the language of millions of Jews in Eastern Europe’s stetels (small towns). There are even language classes for people to learn to speak Yiddish.
There are some words in Yiddish that explain the human experience better than in any other language, and, in this Grandma’s opinion, words that should transcend generations. Here is Grandma’s list of my most used Yiddish words, and some of the definitions come from someone else’s list, one you should look at as only two of Grandma’s list are included in
“The Yiddish Handbook: 40 Words You Should Know,” at
Wikipedia has a list of Yiddish words here.
Mensch or Mentsh. This is the most important word, and what this Grandma hopes each grandchild will be always, a fine, upstanding human being. It is formally defined as “An honorable, decent person, an authentic person, a person who helps you when you need help. Can be a man, woman or child.” In Wikipedia, it is defined as “an upright man or woman; a gentleman; a decent human being (from Yiddish mentsh ‘person’ and German Mensch: human being) the generic term for a virtuous man or person; one with honesty, integrity, loyalty, firmness of purpose: a fundamental sense of decency and respect for other people (from German Mensch, meaning human being); . . .”
Chutzpah. Grandma knows this is as not a good word, and the formal definition explains that it is now interpreted differently in some circles, “Or khutspe. Nerve, extreme arrogance, brazen presumption. In English, chutzpah often connotes courage or confidence, but among Yiddish speakers, it is not a compliment.” Wikipedia confirms with “Courage, determination, daring; also audacity, effrontery. Similar in meaning to English slang guts, balls, or nerve. Can carry either a positive or negative connotation.”
Beshert. Grandma uses this often and knows it to mean “meant to be,” how so many things in life happen for a reason. We may not know the reason at the time something happens, but somehow what happens is meant to be. This Grandma is surprised it is not on the list of 40. Wikipedia has it differently, under Orthodox Judaism as meaning “Bashert (or Beshert), (Yiddish:), is a Yiddish word that means “destiny”. It is often used in the context of one’s divinely foreordained spouse or soulmate, who is called “basherte” (female) or “basherter” (male).”
Another definition which explains this important Yiddish word is on the Moment website, the many legacies of Eli Wiesel.
“Though the term beshert can refer to any fortuitous event (“I missed the bus, but it must have been beshert, because I heard it broke down”), it’s most often used to mean a soulmate: the one person whom an individual is divinely destined to marry. The etymology of the Yiddish word-spelled, generally, either bashert or beshert-is something of a mystery. Some argue that the word comes from the German beschert, meaning bestowed or given. (Bescherung, a version of the word, is used to describe the exchange of gifts on Christmas.) Others say that it’s from the Yiddish word sher, meaning scissors or shears, the idea being that beshert is something that has been shaped in a specific way, as if cut out by a pair of unseen scissors.”
Schnorrer. Grandma knows this word to mean more than just a ‘cheapskate,” one who takes from others without giving back. One does not want to be described or thought of as a schnorrer. According to Wikipedia, it is defined as a “beggar or person always asking others for hand-outs or services (cf. German Schnorrer, schnorren)”
Kenahora. Grandma uses this word often when someone says something good has happened, in a phrase, ‘do not give it a kenahora.” It is almost like a superstition, that if something good happens, don’t give it a kenahora, because you might jinx the good fortune. It has been described as “without the evil eye” on another Yiddish word dictionary.
Shanda. To this Grandma, this word means a sin, to others it might mean a shame, but a significant shame or sin. You do not want to commit a shanda, which will disgrace and embarrass you. In its severest form, it can be a scandal. If you want to read everything about a shanda go to this link.
This Grandma wonders at how many times coincidence manifests itself in my blog post ideas. It is beshert that this Grandma waited until now to finalize the blog post.
Just when I was about to finish this post inspired by an obituary published months earlier, an article appeared in the New York Times, October 4, 2016,”How Do You Say `Email’ in Yiddish?” that, “[T]he first full-fledged English-to-Yiddish dictionary in 50 years is designed to carry Yiddish into the 21st century.” The article says Yiddish is a language that is 1,000 years old, fading in the world but now being preserved in a “826-page Comprehensive English-Yiddish Dictionary, with almost 50,000 entries and 33,000 subentries, is the work of Gitl Schaechter-Viswanath, a Yiddish editor and poet, and Paul Glasser, a former dean at YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, the major repository of Yiddish language, literature and folklore. “
The book is a work of love and remembrance by one of its authors, Gitl Schaechter-Viswanath:
“The new dictionary was adapted from the lexical research of Mordkhe Schaechter, Ms. Viswanath’s father, a leading Yiddish linguist and senior lecturer at Columbia University. As a refugee in a displaced persons camp in Vienna after World War II, he sensed the grievous wound that Yiddish had suffered with the murder of six million Jews and began collecting Yiddish words on index cards. Later, he interviewed ordinary American speakers — shoemakers, tailors, musicians — to learn words they used. Even before he died in 2007 at age 79, his daughter pored through those cards — 87 card catalogs and shoe boxes full. She and Mr. Glasser added his words and terms to the 20,000 already solemnized in the 1968 dictionary put together by Uriel Weinreich, a close colleague of Mr. Schaechter’s.”
Too bad it is in Hebrew and English, and not transliteration, which many of us need. Maybe the authors will take the hint and do that in the next edition. In addition to having a history behind the book, the article was significant to this Grandma for another reason. The author of the New York Times article, Joseph Berger, says in his conclusion,
“Language is so fungible a medium that English has absorbed dozens of Yiddish words, like chutzpah, kvetch, kibitz, megillah, schmooze, nosh and schlock. The new dictionary includes these and, without blinking, translates them back into Yiddish.”
Only one of this list of Yiddish words was on this Grandma’s list! So here goes with more for my precious grandchildren and others so inclined to use words with such history and meaning. Many are in the list of forty above.
Kvetch. This Grandma knows this as a noun (a complainer) or a verb (to complain). Defined as “In popular English, kvetch means “complain, whine or fret,” but in Yiddish, kvetsh literally means “to press or squeeze,” like a wrong-sized shoe. Reminds you of certain chronic complainers, doesn’t it?. . .”
Kitbitz. This Grandma knows it as to play a joke on someone or joke with someone.
Formally defined as “In Yiddish, it’s spelled kibets, and it’s related to the Hebrew “kibbutz” or “collective.” But it can also mean verbal joking, which after all is a collective activity. It didn’t originally mean giving unwanted advice about someone else’s game – that’s an American innovation.”
Megillah. This Grandma knows this word as meaning “ a big deal.” It is not on the list of 40 above. But you can find everything about the word at this site.
Schmooze. Grandma knows this as ‘small talk” or talking to try to impress others. It is defined as “Chat, make small talk, converse about nothing in particular. But at Hollywood parties, guests often schmooze with people they want to impress.”
Nosh. This Grandma knows this as to “take bites of” and snack, a verb. Defined as “Or nash. To nibble; a light snack, but you won’t be light if you don’t stop noshing. Can also describe plagarism, though not always in a bad sense; you know, picking up little pieces for yourself.”
Schlock. This Grandma knows this as a word for a piece of little worth or of garbage, not worthy. Defined as “Cheap, shoddy, or inferior, as in, “I don’t know why I bought this schlocky souvenir.”
Nostalgia and mixed emotions fill this Grandma with this blog post. We can remember, respect our past, and bring it into our future through our grandchildren. Time passes so quickly that we forget it is finite.
What is important is to share our story and our history with our future, our grandchildren, that we may live on through the memories we create with
Joy,
Mema
#Lifelessons #afamouscomicstarofYiddishTheatreFyvushFinkel #YiddishwordsonWikipedia #NewYorkTimesOctober42016HowDoYouSayEmailinYiddishbyJosephBerger #TheYiddishHandbook40WordsYouShouldKnow #YiddishwordscommonlyusedinEnglish #ComprehensiveEnglishYiddishDictionarybyGitlSchaechterViswanathandPaulGlasser #originoftheYiddishlanguage
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