I have to confess something to you. I never saw “The Lion King”.
Ok, I feel better. But I remember hearing about the song “Hakuna Matata”, the Disney version of “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”. Israel has its own version of “chill out” and it’s called “Yiyeh b’seder” (it will be ok). In sharing my concerns about finding a place to live over the last few weeks, I have heard roughly 8.3 bajillion times “yiyeh b’seder”. That phrase when delivered is the checkmate of conversations; it ends it. What else can you say? What comes immediately before it however is immaterial. People say it anytime, anywhere.
“I just lost my job.”
“Yiyeh b’seder.”
“I failed my biology test.”
“Yiyeh b’seder.”
“I have to have my genitals operated on.”
“Yiyeh b’seder.”
Are they even listening???
So far “yiyeh b’seder” hasn’t found me an apartment. I’ll keep you posted.
Postscript to Shira Betzibur. My friend Noga told me tonight that this was a trend five years ago and chnunim (nerds) do it now. True or not, at least I got some free veggie sticks out of it. Tonight I asked her if she wanted to guest-blog sometime and she said “nobody would read it!” I answered “of course they would, just write it in Hebrew!” She said “but what would your mother do?” Mom, you’ve made it. People are reading this for your comments.
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