UAB - Ulpan Aviv Bertele

Super excited to introduce our brand-new podcast: "למה לי פוליטיקה עכשיו?" — named after the legendary hit by Mashina! 🎶✨

So, why do we even need politics right now? 🤔

Together with the fabulous UAB community member, the one and only Margot, we decided to shoot a vlog series for Olim who want to make sense of how the Israeli election system works—and why it’s so worth casting your vote in the upcoming Knesset elections on October 27th.

Along the way, you’ll get a Hebrew lesson from me plus plenty of laughs from the two of us! 💬😂

"למה לי פוליטיקה עכשיו?" — Episode 1 is live right now on our YouTube channel! 🎙️🍿

Your Guide to Israeli Elections (In Hebrew You Can Understand) | Ep. 1 | למה לי פוליטיקה עכשיו Margot and Aviv sit down for a conversation about Israeli elections...

"I know what I want to say... I just freeze up." ?

Does this sound like you? Living in Israel or connecting with native speakers shouldn't feel stressful.

​At UAB, we turn that awkwardness into confidence. Our Fall 2026 classes are designed to get you speaking naturally with friends, family, and colleagues—without the stress.

✨ Ready to stop translating in your head?

📲 Aviva is inviting you to join our Fall cohort. Click Learn More or send us a direct message to check our class schedules!

BHA (Bah Hebrew Advice): "Israelis speak Hebrew faster than Americans speak English or Russians speak Russian."

I hear this exact frustration from students all the time: “I study regularly, I read and write well, I participate in class. Yet I just can’t understand Israelis when they speak in real life.”

If this sounds like you, take a deep breath. You are not alone, and you aren't doing anything wrong. This is standard terrain on the road to fluency.

Real conversation isn't just about output. It’s about listening, processing, and responding in real time. So why does real-life Hebrew feel like a wall of sound?

It usually comes down to one mental trap: if you don’t understand everything, you feel like you understand nothing.

When learning a language, we tend to fixate on the gaps. Think of a student reading a story who stops to circle every single unfamiliar word. Sure, looking them up feels productive in the moment, but over time, it breaks your flow and chips away at your confidence.

Here’s the honest truth: if you weren't immersed in the language during the first few years of your life, reaching native-level comprehension is rare. But here’s the great news—you can absolutely become functionally fluent.

If you're at an intermediate level (Level Bet), it’s time to flip the script. Stop asking “What am I missing?” and start asking “What do I already know?”

Focus on the words you do recognize—whether in a fast WhatsApp voice note or a quick interaction at the makolet. Piece the meaning together from those anchor points. This isn't just a casual life hack; it’s the exact methodology Israeli schools use to teach English. Understanding just 60–70% of a context is usually more than enough to get the message and keep the conversation moving.

The next time your brain goes to “I don’t understand,” catch yourself. Correct it to: “I don’t understand everything.”

Start knitting together the pieces you do catch. You’ll be amazed at how much faster the picture comes into focus.

My bookshelf at UAB 📚 Well, not my entire bookshelf—just the shelves holding the books read by our students in the Zoom book club and Ulpan.

Who will you find here? Amos Oz, A.B. Yehoshua, Dorit Rabinyan, Maya Arad, Sayed Kashua, and many other wonderful authors.

In a world that constantly looks for shortcuts—conversation-only language courses (which are often pure nonsense), heavy reliance on apps, Duolingo, AI, and everything in between—there is one method that will never fail a second-language learner (or anyone looking to truly master a language): reading original literature.

Not translated books, where the syntax and vocabulary can be unforgiving. (Have you ever tried reading Harry Potter in Hebrew? Not exactly a walk in the park, right?)

The concept is simple: once a student reaches around Level Gimel (and advanced levels), they can begin reading fine literature, ideally with the guidance of a professional teacher who understands language registers and knows how to guide them to that level.

How do we do it at UAB?
Read aloud together: I read aloud to the students slowly, a page or two at a time.

Discuss and engage: We discuss what we’ve read.

Embrace the 50-60% rule: There is no need for 100% comprehension. Any understanding of 50-60% or more is plenty.

Focus on context over dictionary: The goal is to understand the content, not every single word. Students who try to highlight or look up every unknown word get stuck and don't progress.

Fluent reading quickly leads to thinking in Hebrew, and that is ultimately what we are looking for. There is simply no substitute for real books and original literature when it comes to elevating a learner's language skills.

The only obstacle? Laziness.

BHA (Bad Hebrew Advice): "Shabbat is always זכר in Hebrew."

Ever wondered why we say שבת שלום ומבורך (using the masculine מבורך) instead of מבורכת?

If you've ever felt like Hebrew grammar rules have a mind of their own here, you're not wrong! Here is the story behind the greeting and the phrase יום שבת:

Masculine or Feminine?
In the vast majority of traditional sources—the משנה, תלמוד, and תנ"ך—the word שבת is grammatically feminine.

Verse example: "שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן הִיא לָכֶם" (ויקרא 16:31).

Modern usage matches this: "How was your שבת?" -> "It was great!" (using feminine agreement).

However, in a few biblical instances, שבת appears as masculine:

"שֹׁמֵר שַׁבָּת מֵחַלְּלוֹ" (ישעיה 56:2) — where "מחללו" means "desecrating it" (masculine).

These rare exceptions inspired expressions where שבת acts as masculine, including שבת שלום ומבורך.

A Double Modifying Puzzle
The greeting שבת שלום ומבורך poses another linguistic challenge: pairing a noun (שלום) with an adjective (מבורך) to modify שבת.

Linguist Nissan Berggruen offered two insightful explanations:

שלום as an Adjective: Some commentators suggest שלום can function like the adjective שָׁלֵם (complete/whole). Under this view, the phrase means a wish for a complete and blessed שבת.

A Shortened Phrase: It might be an abbreviation of "שבת שלום, שבת מבורך" (though textual evidence for this long form is scarce).

What about the phrase "יום שבת"?

Is saying יום שבת (without the definite article ה) correct?

In the תנ"ך, שבת usually appears on its own or as a definite phrase: הַשַּׁבָּת, בַּשַּׁבָּת, or יוֹם הַשַּׁבָּת ("זָכוֹר אֶת יוֹם הַשַּׁבָּת לְקַדְּשׁוֹ").

However, the indefinite יום שבת appears occasionally in Rabbinic literature (ספרות חז"ל) and liturgical poetry (פיוט): "Learned that the first of the month of אייר was יום שבת" (סדר עולם רבה, 5).

Bottom line: יום שבת is entirely valid in Modern Hebrew.

Aviva wishing you all שבת שלום!

Last night, I watched magic happen—except it wasn’t actually magic, but the result of pure hard work.

​These three amazing people—Hanna, Jeremy, and Bastian—realized that even in the heat of summer, and despite all working full-time jobs, it’s so important to keep learning Hebrew. They know how crucial this journey is for building a good life here in the Holy Land. 🍹✨

​In last night’s lesson—which marked the exact midpoint of our course—they sat and discussed complex dilemmas surrounding women’s status in society and within the Ultra-Orthodox community. And they did it all in fluent Hebrew! They’ve built up the exact tools and vocabulary to make it happen. 💬🇮🇱

​Swipe right ➡️ to see the summery cocktail I treated them to! 🍹

​I am so, so proud of you—there’s truly no one like you!

​Love,

Aviva ❤️

הקוקטייל של אביבה: עראקס ספרייט זירו, הרבה קרח וחתיכת אשכולית אדומה או תפוז דם 🍸 לחיי העברית שלנו!

'זוגתו', 'בת זוגו', or 'בת זוגתו' — How do you say "his partner" in Hebrew? 💙

Just in time for Tu B'Av (the Jewish holiday of love!), we're tackling one of the most common questions we get about relationship terms in Hebrew.

Did you know the word Zog (זוג) originally came from Ancient Greek, where it referred to a yoke connecting two oxen pulling a plow together? Over time, it evolved into something much sweeter! 🐂➡️👩‍❤️‍👨

But when it comes to grammar:
✅ 'בת זוגו' (Medieval origin — standard and formal)
✅ 'זוגתו' (Rabbinic/Yiddish roots — classic and concise)
🤔 'בת זוגתו' (Modern spoken Hebrew — popular, but is it correct?)

Is 'בת זוגתו' actually a mistake, or does it have literary roots? Discover the surprising history behind these love terms in our latest 3-minute read! 📖👇

🔗

What's correct in Hebrew? 'זוגתו', 'בת זוגו', 'בת זוגתו'? In honor of the Jewish holiday of love (Tu B'Av), here are some interesting questions we are often asked about the concept of a partner, specifically in Hebrew.We are frequently asked whether to say 'בת זוגו', 'זוגתו', or 'בת זוגתו'. The first two forms have roots in Hebrew sources...

This isn’t the kind of post we usually share here.

Normally, we’re talking about Hebrew, UAB updates, and what we do every day at the ulpan. But as a business that cares about community, fairness, and doing right by people, we can't ignore what happened yesterday.

Maccabi Health Services quietly rolled out a system update that blocked LGBTQ+ parents from accessing their own children’s medical records.

No warning. No notice. No apology.

Parents woke up to find they couldn't schedule a doctor’s appointment or order necessary medication for their kids. In families with twins, parents were locked out of the files for the child who didn't share their exact genetic match.

When parents called to ask what was going on, they were told it was a "privacy law update" and that they need to physically go to a branch to re-prove they are the parents of their own children.

Here’s why we’re talking about this on our page:

Technology should help families, not hurt them. A system update that default-erases non-biological parents isn't just a technical glitch—it's a massive failure in empathy, planning, and design.

Family is family. Legally recognized parents shouldn't have to repeatedly defend their right to take care of their kids' health.

Values matter. We believe in building a society where every family is treated with equal respect and basic human dignity—in healthcare and everywhere else.

We stand with all the affected families today. We hope Maccabi takes immediate accountability, fixes this "glitch" without delay, and ensures no family has to go through this again. 🏳️‍🌈🚩

What are your thoughts on this? Let’s keep the conversation respectful below. 👇

BHA (Bad Hebrew Advice):
"I feel like I need a private tutor."
"What we're learning in class right now isn't what I need."
"I don't need to learn Hebrew letters—I just need to speak."

These are just a few of the declarations I’ve heard from my dear students over the years at UAB but also been reading this on social media often. It’s completely natural, and honestly, nothing new. Almost every second-language learner goes through this exact phase.

So let’s step back for a brief "Psychology 101" moment: What’s the actual difference between want and need? Are the things we think we need actually necessary? And how does this shape the way we learn Hebrew?

If we look at life more broadly, we do this all the time. How many times have you caught yourself saying: I need to go to the bar tonight, I need a drink, I need to vent, I need to clear my head? What do those have in common? They aren't needs—they’re desires. We naturally blur the line between a "want" and a "need."

When it comes to learning Hebrew, does someone only need to speak? Absolutely not. You want to speak. But what many don't realize is that to speak well, accurately, and with confidence, you also need to read and write. Anyone who demonstrates real proficiency in speaking is someone who can also navigate the written language. Can people communicate without reading or writing? Sure, but their Hebrew quickly hits a wall, riddled with systemic grammatical and syntactical errors.

The same logic applies when a student tells me they "need" a private tutor. In reality, a dynamic small group is often what actually drives language progress. In one-on-one lessons, the conversational loop can become echoey, and students hit a plateau much faster. Private lessons are fantastic for surgical fixes—like drilling the future tense or prepping for a specific job interview—but they aren't a substitute for real interactive immersion.

My takeaway? When you find a language institution you trust, express your wants openly—we love hearing them! But lean on the knowledge and experience of those who do this every day. Try not to mistake a fleeting desire for a structural need.

Learning to separate want from need—in Hebrew and in life—makes the whole journey a lot lighter and much more rewarding. Speaking from experience.