{"id":11638,"date":"2020-04-23T12:13:38","date_gmt":"2020-04-23T12:13:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/german\/?p=11638"},"modified":"2020-04-27T06:43:43","modified_gmt":"2020-04-27T06:43:43","slug":"yiddish-can-you-understand-it","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/german\/yiddish-can-you-understand-it\/","title":{"rendered":"Yiddish: Can You Understand It?"},"content":{"rendered":"

Perhaps you have seen the <\/span>Serie\u00a0<\/em>(show) <\/span>Unorthodox <\/em>on Netflix. When the first words were spoken, I heard a strange familiarity, yet only recognized certain words. Yiddish is a mix of different languages, with unmistakable German roots. What’s the story of this interesting language? And how is it expressed in <\/strong><\/span>Unorthodox<\/em>? Let’s find out!<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

What is Yiddish?<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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Hebrew letters (Image by Mick Haupt at Unsplash.com)<\/p><\/div>\n

Yiddish is an interesting language. It comes in a variety of forms1<\/a><\/sup>There is Eastern and Western Yiddish, and each is further subdivided into Southeastern, Mideastern, Northeastern, Southwestern, Midwestern and Northwestern Yiddish.<\/span>, but originally combined elements of Hebrew, Slavic and Roman languages and predominantly German<\/strong>. In fact, Yiddish is short for\u00a0Yidish Taitsh <\/em>(Yiddish German). And you can hear it, as it sounds like a difficult German dialect. Yiddish finds its origins in the 9th century, and so through centuries it developed into a distinct language, which propelled a distinct, vibrant culture. By the early 20th century, Yiddish was spoken by about 12 million people<\/strong> in Europe, predominantly in Eastern Europe.<\/p>\n

However, its tight relationship to German took a dark turn<\/strong> when the Nazis came to power. Their goal was to completely eliminate the Jewish people and their culture. Out of the 6 million Jews that were killed in the Holocaust, 85% spoke Yiddish. With post-war emigration to Israel, the use of Yiddish further declined. Today, there are only about 2 million speakers left<\/strong> – but this is a growing number!<\/p>\n

The fact that German speakers can so easily learn Yiddish could be seen as bittere Ironie\u00a0<\/em>(bitter irony), as Dirk Sch\u00fcmer wrote<\/a> for Welt.<\/p>\n

Examples of Yiddish in Unorthodox<\/strong><\/h2>\n

https:\/\/youtu.be\/-zVhRId0BTw?t=20<\/p>\n

The German-produced Netflix miniseries Unorthodox\u00a0<\/em>uses Yiddish a lot over its 4 episodes. Especially when the Williamsburg habitants converse, there is nothing but Yiddish. But can we make something of it, even without subtitles?<\/strong><\/p>\n

The community displayed in the show is the so-called Satmar community, named after the Hungarian city where it has its roots. These Hasidic Jews also speak their own version of Yiddish, of course. Since the community settled down in Williamsburg, New York, there are many English influences as well, which we can clearly hear (“phone”, for example). Let’s look at some of the Yiddish from the trailer.<\/p>\n

Since I don’t know how to spell Yiddish – especially not in its Hebrew alphabet – I’ll go with the English translation and explain the sounds, and how they remind me of German.<\/p>\n

“- The Matchmaker made a suggestion. – What’s the boy like?”<\/strong><\/p>\n

The first sentence rings no bells. However, the second sounds like “Was f\u00fcr ein Bube ist er?<\/em>” (What kind of boy is he?). But without that subtitle, I’d have no idea.<\/p>\n

“He is like everyone else. Normal”<\/strong><\/p>\n

Again, this sounds like:\u00a0Er ist wie jedem einen. Geh\u00f6rig<\/em>. That first part makes little sense, but geh\u00f6rig\u00a0<\/em>means “proper”, so the meaning of being “normal” isn’t too far off.<\/p>\n

“- I’m different from the other girls. – Different is good.”<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sounds very familiar, and I could understand the whole thing. It sounds like “Ich bin anders als die anderen M\u00e4dle”<\/em> and “Anders ist gut”<\/em>. Though the “good” sounds more like the English\u00a0word than the German.<\/p>\n

“It’s your duty to uphold God’s wishes.”<\/strong><\/p>\n

This one is a mixed bag. I can understand the first part: “Es ist deine heilige Pflicht”<\/em> – It is your holy duty. But what comes after… I have no clue.<\/p>\n

\u00a0“We have to make a family, whether that appeals to you or not!”<\/strong><\/p>\n

The first part, nothing. The second part, however, sounds like a common phrase in German: “Ob es dir gef\u00e4llt, oder nicht!” <\/em>(Whether you like it or not!).<\/p>\n

“Grandma? I don’t know what to do.”<\/strong><\/p>\n

Bubbe<\/em> is the Yiddish word for Grandmother. After that, it sounds German-like with “Ich wei\u00df, nicht was zu tun ist”.<\/em> This could literally be translated in English to “I don’t know what to do”. Yet in German, we’d say “ich wei\u00df nicht, was ich tun soll”\u00a0<\/em>(“I don’t know what I should do”) in a case like t his.<\/p>\n

“Even if we find Esty in this city, how do we know she’ll come back?”<\/strong><\/p>\n

This one is hard to understand, but there are parts I could understand.\u00a0“In this city” sounds like the German in dieser Stadt<\/em>. The second part of the sentence sounds like “Wie du wei\u00dft, sie wird zur\u00fcckkommen?”.\u00a0<\/em>While a German would understand this, it follows a different sentence structure. In German, we’d say “Wie wei\u00dft du, dass sie zur\u00fcckkommen wird?”\u00a0<\/em>It appears that Yiddish does not invert the direct verb, like in German (wie du wei\u00dft<\/em> vs.\u00a0wie wei\u00dft du\u00a0<\/em>and\u00a0sie wird zur\u00fcckkommen\u00a0<\/em>vs.\u00a0sie zur\u00fcckkommen wird<\/em>).<\/p>\n

That different sentence structure can also be seen in usage of past tenses. Here’s another example:<\/p>\n