Engbrew or Hebrish

[Originally published in 2002 for the Society for Technical Communicators -Israel Chapter]

I just recently returned from a trip to the US, my place of birth. I hadn't been there in seven years. I was traveling with a fair amount of apprehension, since my wife and I were traveling with our four boys (age 5 and under), all of whom were convinced they were going to pilot the plane themselves. Once the sedatives kicked in, we had a good time seeing family, doing fun things, and squishing bugs. One of the nicest comments about our children made to us in the form of a question which was asked by more than one person was, "Do you always tie up your children with packing tape?"… No, really, people actually asked us," Do they speak Hebrew?" I was amazed, of course: "After Pokemanese, Hebrew is their Mother tongue". This got me thinking about how lousy my English really is.

While I was in the States, my father was invited to a party at the Israel Embassy, both in honor of several families planning to make Aliyah and in honor of others scheduled to volunteer their time in Israel. Now, I don't go to too many embassy parties, but this one seemed to lack a certain amount of excitement one associates with embassy parties and Washington sex scandals. One of the honorees was a young woman scheduled to make Aliyah and hoping to become a technical writer [1] in Israel. I introduced myself to her after the party and we started to talk shop. She asked me, "How well do you need to know Hebrew, to be a technical writer in Israel?" It took me a few minutes to decide how to formulate my response without seeming too erudite, but the answer was clear: you can be a technical writer with minimal Hebrew skills, but you are severely limited. Without getting into the Zionist aspect of knowing Hebrew, the developers I have come into contact with, by and large, prefer not to speak to technical writers at all. In fact, they tend to cringe and flee at the sight of a writer armed with legal yellow pads and sticky notes. When they do have to speak with writers, however, they prefer to speak in their native tongue (usually Russian or some hybrid of C++ combined with vague, guttural sounds) or Hebrew.

Preserving my English, however, that was a task I did not plan for. I speak to my kids in English (not what they call "English" in England, of course, but the US brand -- see www.wewonthewar.com). It isn't easy to speak correct English in Israel. After a while, certain Hebrew phrases creep into our daily language. First, there are all kinds of words that I learned in "the movement" that have become "English", such as chadar ochel. Most parents say, "Bobby, Tiffany, let's go to the chadar ochel", while I implore my children ,"&*%$ and *$%, move your ass to the dining room." Note the calming effect of the use of "dining room".

Most of us fall into the trap when we begin using commonly accepted Yiddish idioms and expressions like, "The chutzpah of using the word datum in a sentence", or, "She really knows her kishkes." The next step integrates Hebrew idiomatic scraps that have collected on many sidewalks and bathroom walls, such as, "Recompile the help file? Kfotzh li!" or making stupid jokes about your yearning for "Zion".

But ai-sham, down the line, we start to integrate Ivrit into our daily language. Bli la sim lev, we are using more and more Ivrit and our English goes kaka. Excuse me, I mean kaput.

So, if you want to maintain strong English skills while living in Israel, practice speaking and writing English correctly, even if it seems exaggerated. Ra-uh Huzhartem!
                                                                                                                                       
[1] A technical communicator communicates to others that they are "not a technical writer and watch out if you call me one". A technical writer works for a living.