Mit Undz in Vald: Twenty Years of Yiddish Sof Vokh Oystralye

I was fortunate enough to be at the very first Sof Vokh – sheer mazl as I was then living full-time in New York and only in Melbourne to attend a wedding.

The origin story of Yiddish Sof Vokh starts in 2003. Melbourne Yiddishists Freydi Mrocki and Ruth and Doodie Ringelblum attended Yugntruf’s Yiddish Vokh in the Berkshires. As Freydi describes it, “on the way home in the bus, Doodie asked, “ken men epes azoyns onfiren bey undz?” (Do you think we could do something like this at home?)

Inspired and enthusiastic, they set about putting a Committee together, and adapting the Yugntruf model to Melbourne.

I don’t know why they decided to diverge from Yugntruf’s week-long model. Perhaps the organizers felt that we Melbournites would not have the time or commitment for a whole week. We certainly don’t get the long summer holidays that some people in North America have — ours are at most 6 weeks, and there is no tradition of month-long camps for kids, like Camp Hemshekh, or adult camps like Klezcamp. We’ve never had Melbourne Sof Vokh in summer (for readers outside of Australia, let me remind you that May is not summer here!). Perhaps our summer holidays are more sacrosanct – devoted to the beach and family.

Since that first weekend, the venue for Sof Vokh Oystralye has always been in easy driving distance from Melbourne – an hour’s drive away at most — so that those who don’t want to stay overnight can participate. This flexibility works well for us; this year an extra twenty people came for the day on Saturday.

Yiddish Sof Vokh Australia is organized by Yiddish Australia, a volunteer committee of devoted Yiddishists. It’s a lot of work and I know this because immediately after attending the first one, I volunteered to join the Committee, and spent years ringing people up asking them to run a leyenkrayz or please, please organise a Yiddish Pilates class, and round up their friends to enroll. On the Committee, until I retired, I was known as the person who panicked each year that we wouldn’t get the numbers.

Why Sof Vokh?

There is no Yiddishland we can travel to, no matter how much we’d love there to be one. At Sof Vokh we have to speak to the venue staff in English and we text and email in English on our phones. Some watch football in English in their rooms. And yet even in this not-enclosed bubble, the immersion is effective. After my first Sof Vokh, I spent two nights dreaming in Yiddish. It’s not just me. On the way home in the car we speak Yiddish and when we get home, we are still speaking Yiddish, forgetting that our partner can’t understand anything we are saying.

And every year there’s at least one person who has the epiphany. It is almost magical. This year one such event happened in Professor Rivke Margolis’ leyenkrayz, which had broken into small discussion groups. In one group a woman with very strong views about the piece in question was holding forth in English. The others in the group kept saying, “red Yiddish” (speak Yiddish). Rivke, when she came to their group, said firmly, “red Yiddish”. The woman gave a long explanation in English as to why she couldn’t say what she wanted to in Yiddish, turned back to the group discussion and began speaking fluent Yiddish. The cork had been unstopped, the Yiddish that she knew came spurting out from the well of language she had inside her.

Who comes to Sof Vokh?

Although most people who come to Sof Vokh are from Melbourne, there are always people from Sydney, Canberra, and even New Zealand. And over the twenty years there have been more and more young people coming. Initially there was a special program for children and young people, a small group of whom came up on the bus for the day. Although still ensuring that there is something for young people and those whose Yiddish is not up to hearing lectures, most Sof Vokh activities are now multi-generational. It’s not just youth who want to cook in Yiddish, dance in Yiddish, or do yoga in Yiddish.

For me, one of the most exciting changes is this growth in the number of young people whose Yiddish is good enough to stay for the whole weekend. Elana Forbes, a graduate of Sholem Aleichem College who came through the SKIF Youth group, is now a doctor, on call working long hours in a hospital. “I always make sure that I can have Sof Vokh off, I wouldn’t miss it,” she told me. Most of the young people come through learning Yiddish at Sholem Aleichem College, a lucky few from Yiddish speaking homes. There are others who have come to Yiddish as adults and are learning at the Kadimah Jewish Cultural Centre and elsewhere. For those who have only used Yiddish in a class environment, coming to Sof Vokh can be fairly terrifying, especially if they don’t know others. With sixty-three people staying this year for the whole weekend, the most people Sof Vokh has had, it is not hard to find friendly people who will reach out to the newbie.

One of the challenges of the Sof Vokh Committee is making sure that scholarships are available so that young people can afford to come.

Since the Yiddish Oystralye Committee has been successful in recruiting more young people, Sof Vokh has definitely become more lebedik. Onella Stagoll, who is in her 70s, says, “I actually get a buzz from the Friday night ‘getting to know you’ activities. They are fun. I do things I wouldn’t usually do. Sof Vokh has a gaiety about it. There’s such a lot of goodwill, willingness to make it work.” We older Sof Vokhnikers do enjoy moving out of our comfort zones. It’s not often I get to race around the room trying to make sure I get to that chair, or lead a team in the Yiddish version of the TV challenge show “Taskmaster”.

Although the activities vary every year, there’s a core: shmuez groups, a leyenkrayz or two, a shpatsir, a cooking class, drama and poetry workshops. And, of course lectures and workshops run by the guests from abroad. “It’s the range of activities from serious scholarship to Yiddish Bingo, that I enjoy,” Onella said. “On Saturday morning I left my room at 9 am and didn’t return until 9:30 pm. I was fully engaged all day.” Not everyone who comes loves Yiddish Sof Vokh – some never return. You need to want to be a participant, to do things in Yiddish that you may never have tried in English. For many of us the sheer joy of doing them in Yiddish makes activities that might otherwise seem a bit silly, a fargenign.

I still remember some of the early activities, like creating the Sof Vokh song – thanks to Tomi Kalinski, our musical maestro – to the tune of The Teddy Bear’s Picnic.

Oyb ir vet forn mit undz in vald
Vet ir zen a tshikave zakh
Oyb ir vet forn mit undz in vald
Vet ir hern di yidishe shprakh
In droysn, in zal, fun fri biz nakht
Yung un alt tsuzamen a prakht
Azoy farbrengen mir dem yidishn sof vokh!

This is now part of the Sof Vokh Songbook.

We in ek velt are far removed from the centres of Yiddish. It’s a twenty-four hour flight from New York or Tel Aviv or Paris and the Melbourne Yiddish World, although talented and vibrant, really benefits from the spark that a new Yiddishist brings. And especially one that we have the opportunity to spend a weekend with. Over the years there have been many distinguished guests at Sof Vokh. If I mention standouts for me, the others might get offended. The guests have come from France, Poland, and North America. We’ve had academics, researchers, musicians, actors, and Yiddish teachers, and each has brought something special. In fact, as I’m writing this article, I’m encouraged to separately make a list so that we don’t forget them.

The Sof Vokh Committee are very generous with their guests – or from another point of view you could say that the Melbourne Yiddish world works its visitors hard. Most visitors are happy to do everything and anything they can – after all, for most it is their only chance to come to Australia. There are not just Sof Vokh commitments, but events with Sholem Aleichem College, the Kadimah, the Australian Centre for Jewish Civilization at Monash University, and the Bund, timetabled into their Melbourne visit. All these organizations are sponsors of Yiddish Sof Vokh Oystralye.

The best guests are the ones who really get into it. They not only give their lecture or lead their activity but get into the spirit of the weekend by taking part in everything, including drinking well into the night. This year’s guest Kolya Borodulin – apart from the drinking – was just such a guest. Kolya is Director of Yiddish Programming at the Worker’s Circle in New York, and has developed their online Yiddish program into the largest in the world. He was particularly excited to fulfill his dream of coming to Australia. Kolya’s outstanding teaching and communication skills were evident in the way he made his lectures – one on Birobidzan and the other on Chagall and the painting of the Moscow Yiddish Theatre – fascinating, educational, and accessible. He also led activities for children and teachers and he was a terrific participant in the comic debate: “Klal sprakh iz der bester dialekt fin Yiddish” (YIVO Standard is the best dialect in Yiddish).

In what way is Yiddish Sof Vokh Oystralye different to the Workers Circle Yiddishland retreat, or Yugntruf’s Yiddish Vokh — both of which I’ve attended — or other similar Yiddish retreats?

One of the differences is the effect that being in Australia has on those from abroad. In this exotic location and environment, the overseas visitors are much more excited than they would be on a trip to Upstate New York or even Canada. So, if they are not too jet-lagged, they are in top notch form.

When I asked Kolya this question, he responded:

I have never been at Yiddish Vokh so I can compare it only with my program Trip to Yiddishland. The major difference is that yours is run entirely in Yiddish and I salute you, because the majority of the participants are not native speakers and the young generation is not fluent, yet you can feel warmth and respect to mameloshn from every participant.

I loved the simulation and role games which were run at various occasions for everyone in Yiddish! This helped me to get to know many people and learn in an informal way about their hobbies and interests. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to learn so much about the participants. The simulated debate about klal-shprakh and dialects was fabulous and again, run for everybody in Yiddish.

I was touched by the young generation, Skifistn, who demonstrated a genuine interest to Yiddish language and culture, and respect and admiration for the Sof Vokh organizers.

Kolya has put his finger on it. The younger chevre who have come through Skif, the songs, dances and games they all know, and the confidence they have from knowing each other and most of the generation that run Sof Vokh, give the weekend its unique vibe. Of course this very atmosphere – which can feel a bit like a cult and certainly can be cliquey as the Melbourne Yiddish world is a small world – can potentially put new people off. When asked about how she felt, one first-timer, who is from Sydney and has been learning Yiddish in an online Kadimah class, said that the cultish vibe didn’t bother her — next time she would know all the songs and be able to join in. Others have felt like outsiders, and it would be good to find even more ways of making sure that this is overcome so we can continue to welcome newcomers.

The twentieth year, everyone agreed, turned out to be one of the best Yiddish Sof Vokhs of them all. Kolya was a brilliant guest. The weather was not too bad. And our two days of Yiddishland remained a haven from strife and fear – our differences forgotten.

We are looking forward to turning 21 in 2025.