Having the Strength All Along!
By Jessica Shankman
ENP Volunteer Summer 2014, via Career Israel
Student at University of of Minnesota
On a typical day, I travel with another American student when interning at the Lod ENP center. It's been a great arrangement: the two of us are able to navigate transportation together, as well as lean on each other when communication becomes difficult. She is also nearly fluent in Hebrew, which has become quite a source of comfort to me. However, one day this week she called to tell me that she would not be able to make it to work. This meant I would be doing a big group activity on my own.
The idea of conducting a group project on my own without my personal Hebrew translator present was nerve-wrecking to say the least. And yet, I found myself doing just that a few hours later. The activity we had planned was to have the kids complete a little questionnaire about themselves (best friends, favorite song, dream for the future, etc) and then stow them all away in a time capsule. This way, they can dig it up a few summers from now and see how much they have changed. I was excited to see that the kids were engaged in the activity from start to finish. Many of them were chatting with one another, deciding what they would write that would describe them to their fullest. While I explained the activity in English for those that could understand, the staff helped translate for everyone else.
At the end, the kids put their questionnaires in their own personal envelope and decorated them. A few of the older boys went outside and started to dig up a spot in the garden for the time capsule to be buried. These kids have such a sense of humor about them. While digging, they sang “Am Yisrael Chai” and other hymnal type of songs as if we were having a sacred burial. We gave mock funeral speeches. We even said a (very inaccurate) blessing for the ground together. By the time we had covered the capsule in full, we were all laughing.
Afterward, I had a chance to sit and chat with some of the girls that don’t regularly attend. When they started to speak to me in Hebrew, my first instinct was to redirect the conversation to English. But after pausing a second to think, I realized that I probably could get by with the broken Hebrew I know. Soon enough, we were having a full conversation with barely a word of English involved. I was so excited—apparently I had retained more than I originally thought from the summer with them. It was really fun and special to have them correct me when needed and help me through the conversation. And by the time I left, I felt much more connected than I realized would be possible. Moral of the story: without a crutch to lean on, one may find that they have had the strength to walk all along!
ENP Volunteer Summer 2014, via Career Israel
Student at University of of Minnesota
On a typical day, I travel with another American student when interning at the Lod ENP center. It's been a great arrangement: the two of us are able to navigate transportation together, as well as lean on each other when communication becomes difficult. She is also nearly fluent in Hebrew, which has become quite a source of comfort to me. However, one day this week she called to tell me that she would not be able to make it to work. This meant I would be doing a big group activity on my own.
The idea of conducting a group project on my own without my personal Hebrew translator present was nerve-wrecking to say the least. And yet, I found myself doing just that a few hours later. The activity we had planned was to have the kids complete a little questionnaire about themselves (best friends, favorite song, dream for the future, etc) and then stow them all away in a time capsule. This way, they can dig it up a few summers from now and see how much they have changed. I was excited to see that the kids were engaged in the activity from start to finish. Many of them were chatting with one another, deciding what they would write that would describe them to their fullest. While I explained the activity in English for those that could understand, the staff helped translate for everyone else.
At the end, the kids put their questionnaires in their own personal envelope and decorated them. A few of the older boys went outside and started to dig up a spot in the garden for the time capsule to be buried. These kids have such a sense of humor about them. While digging, they sang “Am Yisrael Chai” and other hymnal type of songs as if we were having a sacred burial. We gave mock funeral speeches. We even said a (very inaccurate) blessing for the ground together. By the time we had covered the capsule in full, we were all laughing.
Afterward, I had a chance to sit and chat with some of the girls that don’t regularly attend. When they started to speak to me in Hebrew, my first instinct was to redirect the conversation to English. But after pausing a second to think, I realized that I probably could get by with the broken Hebrew I know. Soon enough, we were having a full conversation with barely a word of English involved. I was so excited—apparently I had retained more than I originally thought from the summer with them. It was really fun and special to have them correct me when needed and help me through the conversation. And by the time I left, I felt much more connected than I realized would be possible. Moral of the story: without a crutch to lean on, one may find that they have had the strength to walk all along!
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