I’ve written before about how I hate to travel where I don’t know the language. In Hungary and Israel, though, the frustrations are different. In Hungary, the language was incomprehensible, but at least the alphabet was the same, so I could understand the cognates on the signs. Here, I can understand some words when I hear them – left, right, hello, goodbye, six – and more and more as Michelle teaches things to us. But the signs may as well be in cuneiform. I recognize only one letter – “sh” – and the numbers.
“At least I can read the numbers!” I heard one American say in Eilot, having just left Egypt. There must’ve been a time in Jordan when I felt this way, but it was too long ago to remember!