When I did my DNA testing, I found out I was .1% Ashkenazi Jew. It’s not much, but it was enough to get me thinking. I’ve used Yiddish words before, but I wondered exactly how many I knew and understood, so I started counting and I came up with 49 that I recognize. Then I wondered if I could write a blog using some Yiddish words, so I gave it a go.
Shalom! I started my day with a little nosh – a schmear on my bagel. Then, instead of cleaning my house and dusting my tchotchkes, I sat on my tuches and futzed while I tried to write. I ran into some glitches, which made me feel like a literary klutz. I didn’t want it to be a megillah and I didn’t want to kvetch, but I started to feel like a shlump. I began to wonder if I was a meshuggeneh and if this was mishegoss. Then I took a a couple of deep breaths and next thing I knew, I had shpilkes and I was shvitzing as the Yiddish words poured out of me. I don’t want to sound schmaltzy, but I’m proud of myself. Before I knew it, I was feeling verklempt. Oy vey, it wasn’t easy, but I did it. I’m just a shiksa, but I’ve got a lot of chutzpah. My bubbe would be proud of me and think I was a mensch. Mazel Tov!
Written by Susan 4/13/18