 |
| Fayge with her parents Tillie and Morris |
My mom, Florence Gold Schwartz, was called Fayge by her
parents and siblings. This was her Yiddish name. Her parents, Morris and Tillie
(Siegel) Gold, were from Eastern Europe (Galicia) – Burshtyn and Toporow,
respectively. They spoke mainly Yiddish to mom and her sisters Rebecca (Rae)
and Rose and brothers Sidney and Harold. Mom would answer back in English.
However, some of the Yiddish became incorporated into her own vernacular. As a
result, she often interspersed Yiddish words and phrases when she spoke. Some
of her favorite sayings were “fershtay?” (understand?), “bubeh mineseh”
(far-fetched story), “full mikh a gonk!” (you’re kidding me!), “feh!” (yuck!), “yenumvelt”
(somewhere far and out of the way), and “don’t drert mein gelt” (waste my
money).
For some reason, Mom used a lot of Yiddish words to describe
chicken parts. I liked to eat the fleegle (wing) and pulke (thigh). Dad liked
to suck the meat from the gorgel (neck) and eat the pupick (belly button –
actually the gizzard, haha) from the soup. Mom used shmaltz (rendered chicken
fat) in her chopped liver (yum!). If someone complained about the food during a
meal she would pronounce “ess und krechs!” (eat and complain!). After we ate a
good meal she often asked “ungefilte kishka?” (is your belly full and content?).
 |
| Mom with "us kids" -- Matty, Robin and Jeffrey |
To us kids, she might say “I need that like a loch in kop!”
(hole in the head) and “Don’t hock me a chinik” (bother me/give me a headache).
Or sometimes “Do you want a poch on the tuches?” Mom might describe someone as
“farblondzshet” (confused), “meshugeneh” (crazy), “meese” (ugly), “fershlaufen”
(sleepy), “nisht mit alleh” (not all there), “ungebluzen” (under the weather or
feeling blue), or “bubeleh” (sweetie). When she got into bed she expressed
pleasure/relief by saying “ah mechayeh” (wonderful).
I guess Mom used the word “fercockteh” (crappy) often
enough that when I was very young and we went for a ride to the Catoctin
Mountains (north of Frederick, MD), I’m told I announced we were going to the Fercockteh Mountains.
(Needless to say, this story was often repeated to friends and family).
Veyizmeer (goodness)!
By hearing this Yiddish as I was growing up, I became
exposed to this wonderful language and, in turn, started speaking many of the
same words and sayings, as well. I wonder how many of my cousins were exposed
to Yiddish through their parents and grandparents and speak the language
themselves. Share your Yiddish experiences by submitting a comment below.
