Developmentally Appropriate

Last night, after going to view my first potential apartment here in Jerusalem (small, clean, affordable, potentially unusual housemate/landlord) I went out for tea with Eyal at Restobar. We were comparing notes about our day and I bragged to him that while at the Hebrew University Akademon purchasing materials to use with my new tutoring student, I paid with my debit card for the first time since arriving Wednesday night (having up until yesterday's trip to the bookstore taken Matt's cash-only approach, except in shekel form instead of dollars) and after a year of practicing was able to sign my name in Hebrew.

"You signed your name, that's great! Very impressive..." he teased, not having heard over the din of the bar that I had signed it from right to left in a language I only learned to write a year ago. I persisted in my pride, explaining my very applicable use of Hebrew to buy my books, and finally he understood. "Ah, b'Ivrit, in Hebrew!" he said, "very good. Please show me your beautiful signature." Taking the pen and receipt he handed me I carefully scribed the nine letters of my first and last name:

sin
resh
hay

koof
the vav that makes the "o" sound
tet
lamed
bet
hay

"Your writing looks so childish--you should really practice," Eyal advised in truly honest Israeli fashion. In my own defense I pointed out that I am a child when it comes to writing in this language, having only learned how to do it last July.

"And what about you, can you read English in cursive?" I replied challengingly, sure I would trump him on this lexographic point.

"Eh, no..." he admitted sheepishly.

"And how long have you been learning English? All your life in the Israeli school system and intensively for years in the Army? That's what I thought," I said, satisfied. Who you calling a handwriting baby? So there.