So interesting how language both informs and reflects culture.

Way back when I began learning Hebrew, I looked up the word for “study.” All that the sources showed was the word for “learn”: lo-med. This didn’t ring true. Just because you study something doesn’t mean you learn it. (case in point, yours truly when I studied German with a Hungarian who spoke no English). One word for two clearly different actions didn’t make sense. Here in Israel I went on a mission to find the word that meant one thing: learn.

I grilled everyone from teachers to cabbies to baristas. While a few people came up with a few other words that could sort of mean “study,” they quickly disclaimed that those words are hardly used.“Just use ‘lo-med’ for both,” they urged, “everyone understands.” Or as one armchair philosopher asserted: “If you study, you learn.”

Initially confused by the double meaning, over the next several years I became obsessed with it. So in Israel, let’s say a child is failing a subject at school, did they still “lo-med” it? If my friend Shlomo gave up on his childhood violin lessons, did he still “lo-med” the violin? The absurdity didn’t seem to trouble anyone—anyone else, that is.

Back in the USA, I began probing (AKA annoying) people I knew to see what they thought. I tried to keep the phrasing simple and objective: “Would you say that studying and learning are the same thing?” The usual response was “No!” articulated with a “what-kind-of-dumb-question-is-that?” sort of tone. The USA survey confirmed what I already knew: Studying does not inevitably lead to learning. I felt validated, if no less perplexed.

While to this day I continue to resist accepting the Israeli perspective, I’ve come to realize that I did “lo-med” something interesting via the project: that sometimes my American-ness can be hidden—even from me.

So did I study that or learn it? You decide.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)