For some time now, Ukraine has been on the minds and hopefully in the hearts of a good many of us. For many of our Eastern European ancestors, Ukrainian as a language, was on the tips of their tongues. It is virtually impossible for a people to live in a foreign country, without words of that country finding their way into one’s mother tongue. And so, it should not surprise us in the least that Ukrainian words were incorporated into Yiddish, bearing in mind, however, that many Ukrainian words are cognates of Russian words.
When President Ronald Reagan met with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev in the mid-1980s, I noticed that both leaders had a habit of beginning sentences in a similar fashion. Whereas the 40th president of the United States was known for his liberal usage of “well” when responding to a query, his Soviet counterpart was equally known for his liberal usage of “nu” when responding to a query. “Nu” serves the exact same function in Yiddish, as it does in Ukrainian.
Jewish cuisine has also been known to leave a Ukrainian (as well as Polish and Russian) taste in our mouths. Lokshin (as in kugel) is a Ukrainian word meaning noodle. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if chrain (horseradish) is the condiment of choice for Ukrainians. Whether or not kishka is a delectable dish on both sides of the Dnieper (a river that geographically and politically loosely divides Ukraine), I have no way of knowing. One can only imagine how this current conflict in Eastern Europe is eating up many a Ukrainian’s kishka (intestine). Looking back to once upon a time in America, my good friend Roy Levin, a Pittsburgh native, fondly recalls picking up bulkas (rolls) at the Jewish bakery.
Closer to home, there are those in this part of the world, who are convinced that the knish traces its origins to Houston Street in lower Manhattan. Not so, we are reassured by those familiar with Ukrainian culinary history. Although the fillings may be different, the knish (a pocket of baked dough filled with potato, buckwheat or meat) and the verenika (a dumpling filled with cheese or preserves) are to Ukraine what hot dogs and hamburgers are to the United States.
Human nature is such that we are amused by certain foreign words. For me, it is the tetrasyllabic Yiddish word kallemootneh. Its origin is Ukrainian, in that the Russian version is simply mootneh. Kallemootneh means muddy or murky, as in “unclear.” One has every right to label an explanation or an article that fails to get the point across as being kallemootneh.
Most common of all Ukrainian words used by so many of us, is the word for grandmother. What has morphed into “bubby” began as babusia (formal) or baba (familiar). The word “babushka” stems from the same root. As one who grew up in a city with a significant Ukrainian population, it was at times difficult—religious and some cultural differences aside—to differentiate between Ukrainian babas and Jewish babas.
Let us look forward to a time when the only wars known to mankind are “language wars.”
Whether we insist on calling the roll at the meal, a bulka or a zemmel (both acceptable Yiddish words), the main thing is that we are able to sit down at the same table and break bread together, in friendship and peace.
By Rabbi Shawn Zell
