Atah midabehr Ivrit?

February 1, 2009
Happy 21rst birthday Gregory!
A tall, dark-haired man in a bright blue shirt greeted us at the door of the Goren-Goldstein Community Center on LaSalle, where the Gordon Ulpan is located. Linda said we are here for the test and he pointed to the motley crowd of about 20 already in the vestibule. I decided to enroll in a Hebrew class for two reasons. I think trying to learn a language is one way to become more intimate with a culture. Another reason is that colleagues appreciate efforts to learn more about their culture. It wasn’t clear to my why I was here for a placement test. After all, ground zero is ground zero, with no real gradations.
At about 5:10 a woman announced something in Hebrew and the crowd moved upstairs to a large barn-like room with a divider in the middle, demarcating about 50 chairs facing a whiteboard. Gali, a tall, stern-looking woman with short black hair, probably in her late 40s, introduced herself in the husky voice of a smoker, as well as a colleague, Irit, probably in her 30s. She began by saying she was going to talk in Hebrew for a few minutes and then in English. When she got to the English she said that there is a written test and after completing that we should put our names in order on the whiteboard and then have a conversation with one of them. The “aleph” test was for those without knowledge of past and future tense. There were also “bet” and “gimmel” versions. I looked at the six page written test. It began with identifying information and then went on with some grammar and reading comprehension or at least I think that’s what it did. I did recognize “shem” at the beginning of the test, so I knew to write my name. I then saw “telephone” so I jotted in my cell number. For the rest of the test, I recognized the word “rotzeh” (I want), but that was it. It’s a good thing a checked my work, however, because I realized that there were 3 lines devoted to the telephone and I had mistakenly put my cell on the “bayit” (home) line, so I corrected that by putting it on the cell line, having noticed “Pelophone” the name of my cell provider. I was number 1 on the list to be interviewed.
I sat down at Irit’s table. “Shalom, ma shlomekh?” I inquired, (hello, how are you doing?).
“B’ seder,” she responded and for that 2 seconds I was having a conversation in Hebrew--- before she went on in an incomprehensible string.
“Ani lo midaber Ivrit,” I pleaded. (I don’t speak Hebrew).
“You don’t speak at all?” she stated with a hint of impatience.
“I know how to read,” I offered to parry the oncoming criticism.
“This is not Hebrew,” was her retort. “Why did you take the test? We need to know how to place you. If you do not speak Hebrew, you do not need the test! Just go to the office and tell them to register for the beginners class.”
“I was misinformed,” I demurred and headed down to the office where two secretaries were registering students. Not counting the Daily Jumble, this was probably the first test that I had taken in over 30 years.
After a few minutes for those in front to clear, I sat down at the desk of a woman probably in her late 60s with a friendly demeanor. She asked for an ID. Having already thought through when I could come back with my passport, I was amazed when she accepted by NC driver’s license. She walked into the next room to photocopy the license. The fact that she had to walk into the next room to do this is but one indicator of the need for some serious re-engineering of this bureaucracy. After she informed me that my teacher would be Elana and that class started on the 8th, I asked her if the pictures on her desk were of her grandchildren, all prepared to compliment them.
“No,” she said with a look of mild disdain. “Mine are more beautiful.”

Linda did not emerge from her registration close to 7 o’clock. On the #5, two women our age were sitting behind us, jabbering away in English. When we were about to get off on Yehuda Ha Maccabi, one asked if we were getting off to go to the political panel at Beit Daniel. The Association of American and Canadian Israelis sponsored a panel prior to the 2006 election and were doing so again for the February 10th election. We decided to go and for a mere 10 shekels to help defray the cost of the hall, we heard presentations by 6 of the seven panel members, the Likud member, apparently having been caught in traffic. Unbelievably, Daniel Ayalon, the previous Israeli ambassador to the U.S., whom we had met (and have a picture) at the Governor’s mansion in Raleigh, was the speaker for Israel Beiteinu.
I need not go into the specifics of party platforms, but the seemingly unmanageable chaos of the Israeli governing system was apparent, especially given the articulate exposition of key points in the 8 minutes or so that each was allotted. This was not a panel of specious political blather. There are 33 parties running for the 120 seats in the Knesset. The coalitions that are cobbled together, particularly as the smaller parties are recruited, have little other than naked self-interest. “If you’ll agree to provide subsidies for my issue, I’ll support you, but I don’t really care that much about your major issues.” Given the fragility of the coalitions, there is little in the way of planning or strategic thinking, because in six months or a year, the circumstances that brought coalitions together can easily change. Another problem is that fully a third of the members of the Knesset are serving as ministers or deputy ministers so there is no effective or distinct executive branch. One candidate mentioned that Israel has had 32 governments in 60 years, giving Italy a run for its money. Indeed, one party claimed that its main issue was to re-design the structure to be more effective. One final note of interest is that the Knesset is apparently elected on the basis of proportional representation for the entire country. The candidates were introduced as #5 on the party list or #18 and etc. If a party gets a high enough percentage to earn 5 seats then, the #5 person would get a seat. If they fall short and get just 4 seats, then this person’s campaign was for naught. It’s not clear to me who, exactly, these candidates represent, in a national, proportional election.