HEBREW (mish-PA-kuh) Family, clan.
HEBREW (mish-pa-TEEM) Judgments or laws. The chapter of the Torah that’s about Jewish laws. I love that “mishegoss” and “Mishpatim” sound almost the same.
(moom-BYE or MOOM-bye) The largest city in India (formerly called Bombay in English, which is where the word Bollywood comes from).
YIDDISH (The ch is pronounced like a k: NAHK-ess, not nachos.) Pride, joy. The ch is pronounced like a k, but harder, not soft like a c. In other words, more like “KNOCK-ess” than “nachos.” You’re always giving your grandmother either naches or tsuris.
YIDDISH (You don’t need to know how to pronounce this.) Never call anyone this. Just don’t.
HINDI (Pronounce it with a barely perceptible n at the end: NUH-hee[n] or nuh-HEE[n].) No.
HINDI (NAH-nuh/NAH-nuh-gee) Grandfather (specifically, your mother’s father). Does not mean grandmother, like it does in English. That’s why Gran is called “Gran” and not “Nana.” See -ji.
HINDI (NAH-nee/NAH-nee-gee) Grandmother; specifically, your mother’s mother. Not to be confused with nana, which means grandfather. See -ji.
YINGLISH Exactly what it sounds like.
HINDI (OHm) A Sanskrit syllable that is a common symbol of Hindu philosophy. It looks like this:
HINDI (PAHn) Breath freshener made from a betel leaf stuffed with assorted fillings like betel nuts, lime, rose-petal jam, fennel seeds, and coconut. People chew it like tobacco or gum. You can tell if someone is a paan chewer because it stains their teeth red.
HEBREW (PAR-uh-shah or PAR-shah) Chapter from the Torah.
HINDI (pa-TAH-kuh) Firecracker. It’s an onomatopoeia (look it up).
HINDI (pull-AU) A kind of side dish of basmati rice. Same thing as pilaf.
HINDI (raj-coo-MAR-ee) Princess.
HINDI (RAHK-shah BUN-dhun/RAHK-hee) “Bond of Protection.” Festival celebrating the relationship between brothers and sisters, or boy–girl cousins. The bracelet that girls give their brothers that day is also called a rakhi.
HINDI (sal-WAHR [or sal-VAHR] ka-MEEZ) Salwar is pants. Kameez is shirt (like camisa in Spanish). A kind of loose Indian-style pantsuit.
HINDI (SAH-ree) A looooooooong piece of fabric that is wrapped, folded, and tucked in to form a traditional garment for women. Typically done without pins or other security measures, if you know what you’re doing.
HEBREW (suh-FAR-dim) Sephardim (or Sephardic Jews) are Jewish people from Spain, Portugal, and parts of Asia, the Middle East, and North Africa. See also Ashkenazi.
HEBREW/YIDDISH (sha-BAHT/SHA-bus) The Jewish holy day, the Sabbath, a.k.a. day of rest.
YIDDISH (SHIK-suh) Non-Jewish girl or woman. Warning: rude. See goyim.
YIDDISH (SHMA-tuh) Rag. Rhymes with dupatta. Coincidence?
YIDDISH (SHMEER) Smudge, smear; to spread (like cream cheese).
YIDDISH (SHMUUTS) Dirt. Unbelievably, this word is not in The Joys of Yiddish.
YIDDISH (SHOH-mer SHA-bus) Person who observes Shabbat pretty seriously.
YIDDISH (SIM-kuh) Happy occasion, celebration, event.
HEBREW/YIDDISH (tah-LIT/TAHL-es) Prayer shawl.
HEBREW (TAHL-mood) A massive collection of commentaries, interpretations, and debates on the Torah, biblical law, ethics, traditions, etc., compiled over more than one thousand years (!!!).
HINDI (TAH-ruh) Star. Like me!
HINDI (TEE-kuh) A religious mark made from powder or paste, usually on the forehead.
HINDI (TICK-ee) Patty or croquette. Aloo tikki and potato latkes are practically the same thing.
YIDDISH (TSOO-ris) Troubles, aggravation.
YIDDISH (TOOKH-is) Rear end, butt. Again, the ch is pronounced like a k, but harder, as if you had to clear your throat.
HEBREW (va-YAY-shev) “And he lived.” The chapter of the Torah that’s about Joseph.
HINDI (WAH-luh) Suffix that basically means “one” or “person who …” So a dudhwallah is one who sells dudh (milk), a kulfiwallah makes kulfi, etc. Handily, you can attach it to almost any noun, in any language: chaiwallah, fruitwallah, computerwallah, mishegoss-wallah. Similar to -nik, as in no-goodnik (no-good-wallah?).
YIDDISH (YA-muh-kuh or YAR-muh-kuh) Head covering worn by many Jews during prayer—or all the time, depending on how religious they are. Usually the wearers are men, but a few women wear them, too. The Hebrew word is kippah.
YIDDISH (YEN-tuh) Super-inquisitive, nosy person; gossip queen. See Gran (jk!).
YIDDISH Informal language of Ashkenazi Jews of Europe and their descendants. Literally means “Jewish”—but meaning language, not person. Its vocabulary is mostly from German and some Hebrew, with a sprinkling of other European languages, including, more recently, English. Yiddish is an exceptionally great source of insults and funny expressions.
ome of my favorite kids, little and big, inspired me to write this book, albeit indirectly. Daydreaming about any one of them enjoying it motivated me to get it done. I thank, alphabetically, David, Eliana, Mana, Rachel, Samantha, and Stacie.
I thank the many who were roped into reading the manuscript at various stages; your praises uplifted me, and your criticisms of early drafts made the end result much better than it had any right to be. Thank you, Kulbir Arora, Laura Freedman, Norma Freedman, Kim B., Margaret Crocker, Stacey Goldsmith Nathanson, Faith Childs, Sharon Reiss Baker, Wendy Brandes, Jessica Benjamin, and the late Deborah Brodie—to name only a few.
I get my love of language, from crossword puzzles to Yiddishisms, from my late father, Howard Freedman, and I acquired a secondhand taste for trilingual punning from my husband, Kulbir, with whom I have spent exactly half my life so far (the better half).
A few specifics:
For proper Yiddish usage (if that’s a thing), I consulted the good book—The Joys of Yiddish, by Leo Rosten. I was especially thankful for the Kindle edition, so that I didn’t have to schlep the hardcover—which weighs more than my laptop—all over the city.
Margaret Crocker made sure I actually wrote on our writing dates.
Deborah Brodie, may she rest in peace, encouraged me at every step. When I lost the plot, had writer’s block, or fell too madly in love with my own words, I reminded myself that Deborah would not have tolerated such self-indulgence, and I got back on track.
Kathy Sharpe, among a thousand other demonstrations of friendship, introduced me to my fearless agent, Judith Riven. I am indebted to both of them. Thank you, Judith, for discerning the potential in this book (and me) well before I did.
Kim B. helped me maintain my sanity throughout.
I am grateful to Susan Van Metre and Erica Finkel for their fine editorial vision, and everyone behind the scenes at Amulet for believing in this project.
Special thanks to Shivani Desai, who has grace and maturity beyond her years.
Finally, and somewhat redundantly, to my desi mishpacha—to my family on both sides, on two continents. Mom and Dad; my sisters, Julia, Laura, and Janet; Kulbir (again and always); Mana; Pammi Didi; and Janam Bhaisaheb, for their patience, humor, support, and love in this and all things. Thank you.
has another career in digital media, in which she has made websites for a well-known children’s publisher, a TV network, and assorted others. She studied publishing at Pace University and English at the State University of New York at Buffalo. In addition to writing fiction, Paula enjoys reading, traveling, and knitting. She lives with her husband and two parrots in New York City. My Basmati Bat Mitzvah is her first book.
My Basmati Bat Mitzvah Page 18
