Yalla!

One of the amazing things about Hebrew—the main spoken language in Israel, and one of three official languages of Israel—is that it is the only ancient language to have been successfully revived and modernized. Modern Hebrew is the youngest language in the world, and it really is beautiful. I arrived in Israel with a small but useful knowledge of Hebrew: I took Northeastern’s Hebrew 1 course this past spring, and since then I’ve also been studying with a private Hebrew teacher via Skype. That, paired with a childhood background on reading and the Hebrew alphabet that I acquired from years of religious school, has put me in pretty good shape to communicate when I need to.
As this is my fourth time in Israel, I’m already pretty well adjusted to the local tongue and the culture surrounding it. One of the big differences between America and Israel is the political correctness. Israelis are much less concerned with not being offensive than we are as Americans. Their humor, to those not accustomed to it, may come across as rude, but it’s really not meant to be. It’s just a part of the culture here. Israelis are very direct, blunt, and to the point. To me, it’s refreshing, but to those new to the culture here it may be jarring.
Though not new to me by any means, one of my favorite words I use frequently when in Israel is Yalla. Though actually borrowed from Arabic, yalla basically means “let’s go.” It’s appropriate to use yalla in a diverse array of situations, though I mostly find myself using it when I’m trying to get friends to hurry up. As someone who loves food, another one of my favorite Hebrew phrases is ani re’evah. Maybe you guessed it—this means “I’m hungry,” but for a female speaker.
I love to eat, and especially to try new cuisine, so I’m especially lucky to have two Israeli friends who are cooks. This week, on one of the days where we had some free time, I was visited by two friends, Omri and Or. Both Omri and Or went to culinary high school and work as cooks in restaurants in Israel. When they found out that the hostel I’m staying in has a kitchen, they were ecstatic—they could cook dinner! Almost immediately after that game-changing realization, the three of us ran to the market before it closed. As that day was Shabbat, time was limited and many of the venders had already packed up by the time we arrived. However, we were able to locate a few places to find meat and vegetables and other necessary ingredients. Omri and Or decided to cook both lamb kebab and—wait for it—brain! Watching them converse in Hebrew with the venders and purchase all kinds of vegetables and meats and breads was mesmerizing, and even more so was watching them cook and create some mouth-watering dishes. After so many nights without a home-cooked meal, a fresh home-made dinner was very welcome.