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AND IT’S IN YIDDISH
Marjorie Gottlieb Wolfe
Syosset, New York
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The Yiddish word “vart”/”vartn” means “to wait.”
Samuel Beckett’s play, “Waiting for Godot” will be presented at the Castillo Theater, 543 W. 42 Street, New York City, from Sept. 20 through Oct. 13, 2013.
The work has been translated into Yiddish from the French and English versions by Shane Baker. Baker stars in the production with Rafael Goldwasser, Avi Hoffman, Nicholas Jenkins and David Mandelbaum.
While the words of the play are unchanged, the characters are depicted as Holocaust survivors. David Mandelbaum, the founder and artistic director of New Yiddish Rep says that “There’ll be a subtle costume hint: Vladimir will be wearing underneath his jacket a camp jacket. Estragon will be wearing his camp pants under his “geveyntlekh” (ordinary) pants.”
“Waiting for Godot” first premiered in 1953. The show follows two characters, Vladmir and Estragon, as they wait endlessly and in vain for the arrival of someone named Godot. Note: The Yiddish word meaning “to arrive” is “onkumen.”
“Di frage”--the question--: Why a Yiddish version of “Waiting For Godot”? Shane Baker says, “Who’s better at waiting than the Jews?”
Rabbi Melvin Burg wrote, “In the aftermath of the
Holocaust, tense and fearful Jews WAITED anxiously
in America for news of European relatives who had
vanished in the maelstrom of the war. Thankfully, there
were many resources that provided continuous updates,
including the Red Cross, international relief organizations,
and several Jewish agencies; and their offices were
constantly besieged by desperate supplicants seeking
information.”
Source: “Small Miracles for the Jewish Heart”
by Yitta Halberstam & Judith Leventhal.
Shown below are some touching stories about waiting:
1. Just before Israel won its independence, Golda Meir, dressed as an Arab woman, went to see King Abdullah. He asked her not to hurry proclamation of the state. She rejoined: “We have been waiting for two thousand years. Is that hurrying?”
2. A common Jewish tradition is for parents to WAIT until the bris to announce the name of their newborn “beybi yingl” (baby boy). Yes, they keep the name secret from friends and family and just about everyone who pops in to see the new addition to the “mishpokhe” (family). Cantor Philip Sherman, a New York mohel, says, “Jews keep baby boys’ names under wraps because “keeping wraps because “keeping the name a secret is based on superstition, i.e., not giving the Angel of Death the opportunity to identify the child and kill him before the bris. It also helps the parents to avoid meddling relatives.
3. The Jewish Daily Forward (Sept. 1, 2011) carried an article titled, “Last Ethiopian Jews Finally Make Exodus to Israel.” Len Lyons reports how 16 families from Gondar, Ethiopia, huddle on benches in the early morning chill, WAITING patiently for their journey to Israel. Some of these 82 adults and children have been WAITING for a decade or more to emigrate to Israel despite their validated claims of Jewish ancestry...At the entry rate of 200 immigrants per month specified by the Nov. 2010 decision, the WAIT for some families could be another three years. In June--typical of what has been happening to the Falash Mura aliyah--the Finance Ministry citing the budget for immigrant housing, recommended that the rate be cut from 200 to 100 immigrants per month. For some, this will prolong the WAIT until 2015.
4. Dr. Sylvia Schonfeld wrote, In my student days, I traveled with a friend on a long trip to Europe, with a final stop in Israel where we both had family. In those days, credit cards were not common- place, so we took travelers’ checks with us to cover expenses. It was hard to know how much to take in preparation for a two-month excursion, but my father assured me that in case I ran short, he would send me money through American Express.
When we reached Israel, my funds were very close to total depletion, and I confidently sought out the nearest American Express office. To my dismay, I was informed that the company’s usual twenty-four-hour WAITING period would stretch into something closer to a week. The office did not function on Friday afternoon or on Saturday because of the Jewish Sabbath. Since it was an American-based office, it was not open on Sunday either. And it would be closed the following Monday as well because it just happened to be Labor Day. Thus a request put in on Thursday would not be answered until the following Tuesday at best. I hated the thought of having to approach relatives for a loan--which they would never allow me to repay--but it seemed to be my only recourse. What was I to do?
A short time later, I was walking down a street in Jerusalem when a total stranger approached and stopped short in front of me “Aren’t you Mr. _______’s daughter?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I owe your father money and have been meaning to get it to him. Can I give it to you instead and ask that you pay him for me?”
It wasn’t precisely the sum that I needed to cover all my
needs, but it certainly went a long way toward helping
me out in a pinch.
Source: “Small Miracles for the Jewish Heart”
by Yitta Halberstam and Judith Leventhal.
5. In a small makeshift synagogue not far from the Twin Towers, Orthodox Jewish professionals regularly meet early each morning for daily prayer services. Usually there is no problem rounding up a minyan (10 men required to pray), and the cramped quarters often overflow with worshippers. But on the morning of September 11, there was an uncommon dearth of available men.
Perhaps they had decided to remain at their resident shuls for the important selichos services that precedes the high holidays.
But whatever the reason, the congregants were faced with a problem: only 9 men were present, and time marching on. These were serious men, professionals, and all had to be at their desks at the World Trade Center well before 9 A.M.
“What should we do?” they asked each other, impatiently tapping their wrist watches as they paced the floor. “This situation hasn’t happened in ages! Where is everybody?”
The men WAITED, restless and tense. Some of them were already running late. Finally, when they had all but given up and were going to resort to individual prayer (instead of the communal one), an old man whom nobody had ever seen before shuffled in the door. “Did you daven (pray) yet?” he asked, looking at the group.
“No, sir!” one shouted jubilantly. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Wonderful,” the elderly man responded. I have to say kaddish for my father...I’m so glad you didn’t start.”
Under normal circumstances, the men would have asked the gentleman polite questions: What was his name? Where was he from? How did he come to their obscure shul? By now, however, they were frantic to start and decided to bypass protocol.
They hastily handed the man a siddur (prayer book), hoping he would prove himself to be the speedy gonzales of daveners. The old man proved to be anything but.
He seemed to rifle the pages of the siddur in agonizingly slow motion. Indeed, every gesture and movement that the man made seemed deliberately unhurried, protracted, and prolonged. The worshipers were respectful but definitely on “shpilkes” (pins and needles) to get to work.
“Oy!” someone smacked his forehead in frustration, “Are we going to be late!”
That’s when they heard the first explosion: the horrible blast that would forever shake their souls. They ran outside and saw the smoke, the chaos, the screaming crowds, the apocalypse that lay before them.
It should have been us. After the initial shock and horror, consciousness dawned on them quickly. They realized they had been rescued from the jaws of death. Each and every one of them worked in the Twin Towers. Each and every one of them was supposed to be there before nine.
Had it not been for the elderly man and his s-l-o-w morning services, they probably would have been killed.
They turned to thank him, this mystery man who had saved their lives. They wanted to hug him in effusive gratitude and find out his name and where he had come from on that fateful morning.
But they’ll never know the answers to these questions
that nag at them--when the turned around to embrace him,
the man was gone, his identity forever a mystery.
Source: “Waiting For The 10th Man,” Beliefnet.com
So, if you’re planning to see “Waiting For Godot,” why not consider purchasing the following perks:
$10 Kibbitzer Your name will be listed in the program. May it be listed in the book of life, but that is out of our hands.
$18 Mensch Same as $10, and nakhes (pleasure), too.
$36 Gabai Listing in the program, and a 3 X 5 postcard signed by director, Moshe Yassur.
$72 Makher (Also spelled “macher”--big shot; man with contacts.) Listing in the program, and a limited edition 11 X 17 lithograph with the casts signatures. Only 100 (“hundert”) will be printed for this production.
$182 Gantze Makher Listing, and a copy of our program autographed by the cast.
$500 Poritz (Noble) Listing, 2 tickets, and a copy of the published translation autographed by translator, Shane Baker.
$1,000 Mekhiten (In-Law) All above, 2 tickets to opening weekend (“sof-vokh”) reception, autographed personal photo (“fotografye”) with cast. For photo opp you must come to the reception.
$3,600 “Kishef macher” or magic-worker) All above, and a 30 “minut” (minute) magic show in Yiddish.
$5,000 Kisey Ha’kovod All above, seats by the Eastern Wall... and one of the leaves from the tree. Own a piece of theater history. Priceless.
$1,800 Malekh (Angel) All of the above, 2 tickets to show and dinner with director Moshe Yassur and dramaturg, Beate Hein.
So, what are you waiting for? Order your tickets.
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MARJORIE GOTTLIEB WOLFE will be giving 1-hour
lectures in South Florida this winter.
Look for her at the
following libraries: Greenacres Library, Delray Beach
Public Library,
Hagen Ranch Road Library, Lantana Road
Library, and Glades Road Ranch Library in Boca.
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