Nevsu (2017–2021): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Accent - full transcript
Good night, my love.
-Hi, honey.
-Hi.
What's this?
It's the Family Day project
for kindergarten.
Only Mommy used to be little.
Daddy…
-was born in the army.
-It's the only picture I found.
Did you see the map?
It adds so much color.
Yeah.
But the border with Sudan has changed.
It's not an updated map.
Oh, okay.
Then I'll look for an updated one,
maybe on the UN website?
Are you happy with your side?
-Is this picture already taped on?
-Yes.
That's the car my dad bought me
when I was two.
So as soon as you learned to walk,
you stopped walking.
It isn't cute?
It's cute
because I know you.
But what will someone else see?
A spoiled little girl
who has food on her face
in every picture.
Ice cream, pizza,
crepe,
and shawarma at the age of five?
Dear God.
That girl should get out of the car
and start walking.
So you're bummed that I have pictures
and you don't?
It's okay, honey.
Nobody thinks photographers
in Ethiopia were taking your headshots.
Ethiopia…
At one point I came to Israel,
they couldn't stop taking my picture,
I was so handsome.
Where are those pictures?
I don't know,
I don't want to show off.
I'll find them.
Okay, fine.
I'll tell the kindergarten
we won't do the project.
No way. We'll be the only ones
who aren't doing it.
They'll think Maayan has no father.
I'd rather they thought I was a map.
Because I am a map.
I'm a map.
I'm a map, I'm a map…
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Yes, I'm listening.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Is that Maayan?
Let me see.
Yes, listen to this, Yakov.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
What do you think?
I didn't hear the joke.
Listen carefully.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Why do you stop before the joke?
Because it isn't the issue.
The accent.
Didn't you hear her say:
"Dad, want to hear
a good joke?"
She has that Ethiopian D.
She's sweet.
Yes, yesterday she said, "Diet, diet."
-Why?
-Why did she say diet?
Did she say I should diet?
What if she did?
She's five.
She also said
your hair is dwindling.
"Grandpa's hair is dwindling."
My hair is just fine.
Let's stop talking about
your dwindling hair and my fat.
There's a problem here.
If we hear the accent,
so do kids in kindergarten.
Oh, no, then they'll find out
she's Ethiopian.
This is no laughing matter.
Look, I have no problem
with her being brown.
Some of my best friends are brown.
I'm surrounded by them.
The accent is the problem.
I think it's sweet.
We should tell Gili
to teach her Amharic.
What? Why?
Because languages are wonderful.
I still regret not learning German
from my parents.
As if you need to know
what the Nazis are saying about you.
At her age,
her brain is like a sponge.
Whatever she absorbs now
will stay with her.
Are you saying that she'll talk
like an Ethiopian immigrant forever
with those Ds?
We have to tell
Tamar and Gili
to take her
to a speech therapist.
A speech therapist?
I say, on the contrary,
she needs to learn Amharic.
And I say that
I have a right as the grandmother
to give my family
some good advice.
Nitza, sometimes the cow wants to give
more advice than the calf wants to hear.
Thanks for the compliment.
I understand
that I'm the cow.
No, what I meant
is that we've had some bad attempts
at giving them advice.
Look at my beautiful girl.
My beautiful girl,
in four hours she'll be Tamar Chalacho.
Speaking of Chalacho, your father and I
wanted to talk to you…
-No, we didn't.
-Yes, we did.
Nowadays it's trendy
to add your last name to his,
so it would be
Tamar Agassi Chalacho.
And you can add Agassi, too.
Gili Agassi Chalacho
or Gili Chalacho Agassi or Gili Agassi.
Sounds like a pilot.
What did I say?
Then why don't you tell them?
No way.
Then who will?
No one.
I will.
Remember the Jewish Agency
organized a Bar Mitzvah for all of you?
Here you are.
Where am I?
Here.
Such a handsome boy.
No, that's another kid
you think is handsome.
I'm sorry, here,
that's you.
No, that's not me.
Yes, it is.
Mom, I know me,
that's not me.
Don't you have
one picture of me alone?
Of course I do.
Here.
Such a handsome boy.
Mom, why am I wearing a JDL shirt?
There were elections.
They were handing them out. You got one.
I can't go home with this!
Tamar has pictures with ice cream at
Disneyland and crepes at the Eiffel Tower.
And I'm here at the JDL summer camp
in our building's parking lot?
What about your friend Benny?
He had that yellow camera.
You two walked around all day
taking pictures.
-Did you get it?
-Yeah, but swing faster.
When'll we get the pictures?
I don't know, no one explained
how I could tell when they're ready.
We didn't know
we needed film.
Want me to arrange a kid for you?
Why do I need a kid?
I'll get a kid who looks like you.
People think we all look the same.
How old should he be?
He's got some crazy ideas…
What ages do you have?
Okay, nice.
Who else?
What?
He looks just like you.
Oh, wait…
That's me.
Kfir looks like you?
You wish.
Are you telling me
what I looked like?
That's exactly
how I remember myself.
Now you're shorter, uglier,
and your nose got bigger.
I hope it's not genetic.
Show me some more
of his pictures.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Did you hear that? "Good."
She has a problem with the D.
D.
She has a problem
with Z, T and S, too.
What does that leave me with?
N?
Nitza, don't worry,
kids her age learn very fast.
She'll be speaking properly
after a few sessions.
No, I can't bring her here.
You teach me
and I'll teach her.
No, I have to work with the patient.
Then I'll be the patient.
"Dad, want to hear a good joke?"
"Dad, would you slide me
down the slide?"
"Slide."
Now what do I do?
I can't teach you
to be a speech therapist.
Yes, you can.
Believe me,
I was a teacher for 30 years.
They sent the dumbest kids to me
before they sent them to carpentry.
Okay, so what's the exercise for D?
Okay, let's watch the video again.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Yes, I do.
Who's filming her?
Her father.
He has a serious accent.
You have to take care of him, too.
No, the whole point is keeping it
from him. He's sensitive,
he could…
He's Ethiopian.
Is there any other option?
Keep her away
from her father?
-But you wouldn't do that.
-Of course not.
Gili, I remember what it's like
to have a little girl
who needs all your attention.
But you're lucky
that you have help.
You have me, use me.
But we use you
all the time, Mom.
Use me more
as long as I'm still here.
Nitza, you're always here.
I don't know how to thank you.
"You do."
Do, do.
Don't thank me.
I don't want to hear another word.
Tomorrow I'll pick Maayan up
from kindergarten.
I'll bring her home after she's bathed,
eaten and fallen asleep.
Not tomorrow.
Why not?
I promised we'd go to the mall.
Why the mall?
There's a show,
"Deeg-deeg-doog."
Deeg-deeg-doog.
Deeg-deeg-doog.
Deeg-deeg-doog
fed the dog…
Stop!
Let me spoil you a little.
Go on vacation,
just the two of you.
Honey, let's go for the weekend.
-Okay.
-Why just the weekend?
Go to Thailand.
Uh…
Alamito.
Alamito.
There's Grandma.
-Grandma!
-That's right, there's Grandma.
My beautiful girl!
Grandma.
-How are you?
-Fine.
Did I say it right?
Very good, Yaakov.
Have you decided to learn Amharic?
Yes. I have family from Ethiopia
and don't know a word of Amharic,
so I bought myself
an Amharic phrase book.
Is Nitza learning, too?
No, not Nitza.
No, Grandma doesn't like Amharic.
We're working on getting rid of my accent.
-What?
-What?
But it's a secret, don't tell.
No…
Nitza…
Teachers will be teachers.
She corrects everyone.
She probably corrected her once.
No, we have a notebook
and we do homework, but it's a secret.
So Nitza doesn't like our accent.
No, I told her
I love your accent.
Amharic rolls off your tongue.
I'm learning "tenesh tenesh."
"Tenish tenish."
-"Tenish tenish"?
-No.
"Tenish tenish."
Why don't you teach me?
I need a teacher.
Nitza,
may God take you.
It means "I love you."
Nitza,
may God take you.
Wow.
If I were Nitza,
my heart would be melting.
Could you teach me everyday phrases,
like "how much is this?"
What for?
Are you going
to get hair extensions?
Amharic is a language of love.
Here's one.
-A really romantic phrase.
-I'll write it down.
May you go shopping…
and never find your way home.
Beautiful.
Sounds like a song.
What does it mean?
I'm embarrassed to say,
it's between…
a husband and his wife,
you whisper it
in her ear.
May you go shopping
and never find your way home.
Yes. Every time Nitza goes shopping,
whisper it in her ear.
Whenever she goes shopping,
I say:
"May you go shopping
and never find your way home."
Yes.
When she comes home, I say:
"May God take you."
Very good.
Exactly.
Michal, your idea with the pictures
is lovely.
-Thank you.
-You're welcome.
But not all parents
have pictures at home.
-No one said anything to me.
-Because it's embarrassing.
It's a sensitive matter.
Dafna Valenstein's mother
doesn't want people asking
where Mr. Valenstein is.
Where is he?
In a test tube
at the sperm bank.
And Shahar Babayof.
What?
Didn't you notice
he looks nothing like his parents?
That's right.
His biological father
is Einat's yoga instructor.
No way.
Yes, he did lots
of Downward Dog with her.
You don't say.
And Lielle?
No, he's her father.
There are redheaded Iraqis.
Hi.
Hi, honey, how's it going?
Fine.
Honey,
who is this kid?
It's me.
Get serious.
Who cares?
It's just a kid.
Looks more like me
than the map of Ethiopia.
Now we can take it
to kindergarten.
Okay…
but I spoke with Michal,
she called off the project.
Why?
You know how hard it was
to get these pictures?
I had to send that kid a friend request
on Facebook. He declined.
Eliran convinced him
I'm not a pedophile.
Okay, but it's not just our problem.
The whole project is problematic.
Dafna's dad?
He's a sperm donor.
Omri's mom
doesn't know who the father is.
So now I'm in the plastic cup
and orgy group?
No, I'm just saying
not everyone has pictures.
But I do
and I want everyone to see them.
But that's not you.
And everyone will see.
No one will be able to tell.
Anyone with eyes
can see it's not you.
Oh, please,
people think we all look the same.
Even you on our second date
hugged some other Ethiopian.
You could've married him
without noticing.
He was tall and handsome.
I thought let's give it a chance.
Wanna bet no one can tell?
Honey, there's
no resemblance whatsoever.
Different nose, different mouth.
I'd think it's Diana Ross
when she was little
before thinking it's you.
Okay, are we betting
on a massage?
I'm always up for betting
on a foot massage.
Gili, you haven't changed one bit.
And what an active kid.
You played soccer, guitar
and skateboarded.
I did so many sports
that my feet always hurt.
To this day, I need
lots of foot massages.
Right, honey?
Look carefully at the pictures.
Doesn't anything seem strange?
What's strange?
This is strange.
Yes, this picture is strange.
Skateboarding on that wooden board?
Very dangerous.
Yeah, what kind of message
is that for Maayan?
You can clearly see
her father is on a skateboard.
See, honey?
They can clearly see it's me.
How did Alamito let you
do something so dangerous?
My mom trusted me.
She bought me
whatever I wanted.
My childhood was…
well, you can see for yourself.
Yes, Gili,
you have a wonderful mother.
She's teaching me Amharic now.
Nitza, may God take you.
Dad, that's amazing.
What does that mean?
It's…
Nitza, I love you.
Right.
You can say it
in Hebrew, too.
But you say it differently to me.
Because I say it simply.
The way my mother speaks
is very rich…
-Here's another one.
-Go on.
May you go shopping
and never find your way home.
What does it mean?
I don't know word for word.
It's something
between a husband and wife.
When Alamito said it,
she was a bit embarrassed.
What does it mean, Gili?
It is a bit embarrassing.
But, yes, it's something
a husband says to his wife
after many years together.
Michal, hi.
Because the project is so important
to you, I did some profound research
and found out
that Maya Valenstein's father
isn't a sperm donor after all.
He's a gay friend.
He'll give her pictures.
He'd be happy
to give her pictures.
And I was wrong
about Shahar Babayof.
The father doesn't know
he's not the father.
We're the only ones.
There's not enough room.
What?
Bigger poster.
Okay.
And Michal?
Does the poster
have to be that size?
Because we have lots of pictures.
-Slob.
-Slob, yes.
Gili, how are you?
Yaakov's here.
You're the biggest slob
I've ever met.
Mom, are you out of your mind?
Does that mean:
"I want some coffee"
or "please make me some coffee"?
There is no "please" in Amharic,
only imperative. "Make me."
Mom, what are you doing?
If he orders coffee from
an Ethiopian waitress, she'll kill him!
What are you doing?
I love Yaakov.
It's not to him, it's to Nitza.
You won't believe what she's doing.
I don't care,
nothing could justify
the horrible thing you're doing.
Nitza is giving your daughter lessons
so she won't have an Ethiopian accent.
What?
I don't believe you.
Everyone knows except you.
That woman is unreal,
she sticks her nose into…
Mom, teach him what you used to say
about our neighbor.
Remind me.
I hope your long nose gets stuck
in someone's butt.
What a beautiful phrase.
I'll teach him.
Okay, Gili, honey, bye.
Yaakov, listen…
Read.
Read nicely.
A dozen dim ding-dongs.
No, Maayan, not "ding-dongs,"
but ding…
Put your tongue against your teeth
like Grandma, look.
A dozen dim ding-dongs.
Don't think about Daddy,
forget Daddy.
What's going on here?
Nothing.
What's going on?
Nothing…
We're playing.
-Playing?
-Yes. -Playing what?
Monopoly.
Where is the Monopoly?
Okay, I'll rat myself out.
We're working on Maayan's accent.
Okay, I said it.
What accent?
Her Swedish accent.
You know, her D and Z and…
all those…
-letters of yours.
-Don't be ridiculous.
She was born and raised here.
Raised, not "raised."
Are you imitating me?
I don't have an accent.
She was raised.
Raised, not "raised."
Daddy, you have the same D
as Grandma Alamito.
There, the truth has been spoken.
Don't be silly, sweetie.
I don't talk like that.
A dozen dim ding-dongs.
What was that?
An accent, that's what.
Doug digs dirty dugouts.
Accent?
No, not at all.
-Of course.
-Okay, but it's not tick.
Thick, not "tick."
I don't sound
like a new immigrant.
Sound, not "sound."
Don't do that.
"Don't do that."
Don't do that!
-Don't do that.
-Don't do that!
No, don't do that.
Don't do that!
Fine, I'll keep my mouth shut.
Alamito, check this out.
I'm going to the market.
Shall I get you a goat or a sheep?
Good job, Yaakov.
-Did I teach you that?
-No.
I bought a phrase book and tapes,
so I'm really making progress.
Yes, but those aren't useful phrases.
Since when do you go
to the market to buy sheep?
-Hello, Yaakov.
-Hi, Shmelash.
Did he run away from Nitza?
I understood that.
Wait, you said…
he, Nitza and "midebek,"
what's "midebek"?
-Does he speak Amharic?
-Yes, I speak Amharic.
Oh, no.
Why "oh, no"?
I'm doing well.
Here it is, "midebek."
Listen,
I can't teach you anymore.
Why? I'm really enjoying it.
Come on, Yaakov,
what does a new immigrant have
aside from gossiping in his language
without others understanding?
Yes, but we're growing closer,
we understand each other.
So what was that?
"Yehe" is "he,"
Nitza is Nitza
and "midebek"
is "run away."
"He's running away from Nitza."
I'm running away from Nitza?
Do you like the picture
of Mommy in the car?
She's all messy with ice cream.
Let's change it.
Mommy!
Never mind,
we'll leave it there.
Hello.
Grandma, come see the pictures
when Mom and Dad were little.
You were so handsome,
and look at those clothes.
And the guitar.
He got whatever he wanted
and still complained.
Hi, Alamito.
Hi.
Look what I found.
Wow, Mom, you kept that?
When they put us on the plane, Gili
was scared. He'd never seen one before.
-Neither had you.
-That's right.
So one of the soldiers
gave him this toy.
All the kids were so jealous,
there was such a commotion,
we could barely take off.
And look,
remember the trip
with the Jewish Agency?
Oh, how sweet.
Dad, you rode a donkey?
Of course,
we had lots of donkeys in our village.
Your dad rode better
than any of the other kids.
He was always on the donkey,
he never walked anywhere.
We were afraid he'd be fat.
Is that so?
Daddy, that's your nicest picture.
-Really?
-Really.
Wow, those donkeys really loved me.
I understood them.
This is the way.
We walked the whole way.
It's about 600 km.
Like the Israelites in the desert.
It took them 40 years,
they were really out of shape.
And that plane
your mother kept?
-It's amazing.
-Are you done, Gili? Okay.
Now look.
-This is Tamari's part.
-Mom, stop it,
-it's not interesting.
-Why not?
Don't be silly, it's very interesting.
Here's Tamari as a little girl.
She was such a good driver,
but I had her take ballet lessons.
She danced so beautifully.
Pas de deux
and pas de chat…
I'm so envious of you.
Yes, my parents
were really great.
No, that your partner
has such a fascinating life story.
I'd take his part of the poster
and make it part of
all the kindergartens' curriculum.
-Amazing.
-I'd gladly cooperate.
My business card is in the car.
-Tamari, why didn't you make a map?
-Because…
People like maps.
To show the journey we made.
We made a long journey
from Europe, too.
-Made.
-That's what I said.
No way.
You just said an Ethiopian D.
No, I didn't.
You just did it again.
-How did you learn that?
-I don't know…
It's an epidemic!
Maayan, we're leaving.
Nitza, maybe you shouldn't
see each other so much.
We don't want the speech therapy
to go down the drain.
What speech therapy?
I don't know
what he's talking about.
Your pictures are so nice.
You're lucky you have so many.
Yeah.
So you can see how boring
my entire life was.
What are you talking about?
You're having fun,
traveling, doing stuff.
Yeah.
You see a spoiled girl
who had everything done for her
and nothing interesting
happened in her life.
Honey,
how can you say that?
Everyone has something interesting
that happened to them,
everyone's had crises…
Everyone but me.
-You're just saying that.
-Fine.
-How old were you during the Gulf War?
-Ten.
You were little,
it must've been scary.
Yeah.
So the minute it started,
we flew down to Eilat.
But it lasted for so long,
we flew to Greece
because it got boring in Eilat.
We got back in time for Purim.
Okay.
In the army,
-you were a guiding instructor.
-So?
That's very challenging.
I was a guide
at the Air Force Museum,
I wasn't in combat.
But then
the second intifada started.
There must've been…
a lot of action,
operational activities and stuff.
Yes.
That's why most of my tours
were called off. I stayed home.
My mom drove me nuts.
Wow.
-So you only got spoiled?
-Yeah.
-Nothing ever happened?
-Nothing.
Never fell out of your stroller?
There was never
any little crisis?
I married an Ethiopian.
That's one helluva story.
Who didn't go to school
in something embarrassing?
You let me wear
Grandpa's underwear as shorts.
You still dress like that.
At least it was
your grandfather's underwear.
He wore someone else's
grandfather's underwear.
I can't see the vein.
Isn't it that blue thing?
-Nehama…
-Wait…
Wait…
What happened?
Do you know that
you have exploding veins?
No, but now I feel
like they're exploding.
You're scaring me!
Surgery went well.
What's that noise?
Don't worry, Yakov,
they're protesting outside, but…
I'll go out the back entrance.
No one will recognize me.
-Hi, honey.
-Hi.
What's this?
It's the Family Day project
for kindergarten.
Only Mommy used to be little.
Daddy…
-was born in the army.
-It's the only picture I found.
Did you see the map?
It adds so much color.
Yeah.
But the border with Sudan has changed.
It's not an updated map.
Oh, okay.
Then I'll look for an updated one,
maybe on the UN website?
Are you happy with your side?
-Is this picture already taped on?
-Yes.
That's the car my dad bought me
when I was two.
So as soon as you learned to walk,
you stopped walking.
It isn't cute?
It's cute
because I know you.
But what will someone else see?
A spoiled little girl
who has food on her face
in every picture.
Ice cream, pizza,
crepe,
and shawarma at the age of five?
Dear God.
That girl should get out of the car
and start walking.
So you're bummed that I have pictures
and you don't?
It's okay, honey.
Nobody thinks photographers
in Ethiopia were taking your headshots.
Ethiopia…
At one point I came to Israel,
they couldn't stop taking my picture,
I was so handsome.
Where are those pictures?
I don't know,
I don't want to show off.
I'll find them.
Okay, fine.
I'll tell the kindergarten
we won't do the project.
No way. We'll be the only ones
who aren't doing it.
They'll think Maayan has no father.
I'd rather they thought I was a map.
Because I am a map.
I'm a map.
I'm a map, I'm a map…
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Yes, I'm listening.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Is that Maayan?
Let me see.
Yes, listen to this, Yakov.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
What do you think?
I didn't hear the joke.
Listen carefully.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Why do you stop before the joke?
Because it isn't the issue.
The accent.
Didn't you hear her say:
"Dad, want to hear
a good joke?"
She has that Ethiopian D.
She's sweet.
Yes, yesterday she said, "Diet, diet."
-Why?
-Why did she say diet?
Did she say I should diet?
What if she did?
She's five.
She also said
your hair is dwindling.
"Grandpa's hair is dwindling."
My hair is just fine.
Let's stop talking about
your dwindling hair and my fat.
There's a problem here.
If we hear the accent,
so do kids in kindergarten.
Oh, no, then they'll find out
she's Ethiopian.
This is no laughing matter.
Look, I have no problem
with her being brown.
Some of my best friends are brown.
I'm surrounded by them.
The accent is the problem.
I think it's sweet.
We should tell Gili
to teach her Amharic.
What? Why?
Because languages are wonderful.
I still regret not learning German
from my parents.
As if you need to know
what the Nazis are saying about you.
At her age,
her brain is like a sponge.
Whatever she absorbs now
will stay with her.
Are you saying that she'll talk
like an Ethiopian immigrant forever
with those Ds?
We have to tell
Tamar and Gili
to take her
to a speech therapist.
A speech therapist?
I say, on the contrary,
she needs to learn Amharic.
And I say that
I have a right as the grandmother
to give my family
some good advice.
Nitza, sometimes the cow wants to give
more advice than the calf wants to hear.
Thanks for the compliment.
I understand
that I'm the cow.
No, what I meant
is that we've had some bad attempts
at giving them advice.
Look at my beautiful girl.
My beautiful girl,
in four hours she'll be Tamar Chalacho.
Speaking of Chalacho, your father and I
wanted to talk to you…
-No, we didn't.
-Yes, we did.
Nowadays it's trendy
to add your last name to his,
so it would be
Tamar Agassi Chalacho.
And you can add Agassi, too.
Gili Agassi Chalacho
or Gili Chalacho Agassi or Gili Agassi.
Sounds like a pilot.
What did I say?
Then why don't you tell them?
No way.
Then who will?
No one.
I will.
Remember the Jewish Agency
organized a Bar Mitzvah for all of you?
Here you are.
Where am I?
Here.
Such a handsome boy.
No, that's another kid
you think is handsome.
I'm sorry, here,
that's you.
No, that's not me.
Yes, it is.
Mom, I know me,
that's not me.
Don't you have
one picture of me alone?
Of course I do.
Here.
Such a handsome boy.
Mom, why am I wearing a JDL shirt?
There were elections.
They were handing them out. You got one.
I can't go home with this!
Tamar has pictures with ice cream at
Disneyland and crepes at the Eiffel Tower.
And I'm here at the JDL summer camp
in our building's parking lot?
What about your friend Benny?
He had that yellow camera.
You two walked around all day
taking pictures.
-Did you get it?
-Yeah, but swing faster.
When'll we get the pictures?
I don't know, no one explained
how I could tell when they're ready.
We didn't know
we needed film.
Want me to arrange a kid for you?
Why do I need a kid?
I'll get a kid who looks like you.
People think we all look the same.
How old should he be?
He's got some crazy ideas…
What ages do you have?
Okay, nice.
Who else?
What?
He looks just like you.
Oh, wait…
That's me.
Kfir looks like you?
You wish.
Are you telling me
what I looked like?
That's exactly
how I remember myself.
Now you're shorter, uglier,
and your nose got bigger.
I hope it's not genetic.
Show me some more
of his pictures.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Did you hear that? "Good."
She has a problem with the D.
D.
She has a problem
with Z, T and S, too.
What does that leave me with?
N?
Nitza, don't worry,
kids her age learn very fast.
She'll be speaking properly
after a few sessions.
No, I can't bring her here.
You teach me
and I'll teach her.
No, I have to work with the patient.
Then I'll be the patient.
"Dad, want to hear a good joke?"
"Dad, would you slide me
down the slide?"
"Slide."
Now what do I do?
I can't teach you
to be a speech therapist.
Yes, you can.
Believe me,
I was a teacher for 30 years.
They sent the dumbest kids to me
before they sent them to carpentry.
Okay, so what's the exercise for D?
Okay, let's watch the video again.
Dad, want to hear a good joke?
Yes, I do.
Who's filming her?
Her father.
He has a serious accent.
You have to take care of him, too.
No, the whole point is keeping it
from him. He's sensitive,
he could…
He's Ethiopian.
Is there any other option?
Keep her away
from her father?
-But you wouldn't do that.
-Of course not.
Gili, I remember what it's like
to have a little girl
who needs all your attention.
But you're lucky
that you have help.
You have me, use me.
But we use you
all the time, Mom.
Use me more
as long as I'm still here.
Nitza, you're always here.
I don't know how to thank you.
"You do."
Do, do.
Don't thank me.
I don't want to hear another word.
Tomorrow I'll pick Maayan up
from kindergarten.
I'll bring her home after she's bathed,
eaten and fallen asleep.
Not tomorrow.
Why not?
I promised we'd go to the mall.
Why the mall?
There's a show,
"Deeg-deeg-doog."
Deeg-deeg-doog.
Deeg-deeg-doog.
Deeg-deeg-doog
fed the dog…
Stop!
Let me spoil you a little.
Go on vacation,
just the two of you.
Honey, let's go for the weekend.
-Okay.
-Why just the weekend?
Go to Thailand.
Uh…
Alamito.
Alamito.
There's Grandma.
-Grandma!
-That's right, there's Grandma.
My beautiful girl!
Grandma.
-How are you?
-Fine.
Did I say it right?
Very good, Yaakov.
Have you decided to learn Amharic?
Yes. I have family from Ethiopia
and don't know a word of Amharic,
so I bought myself
an Amharic phrase book.
Is Nitza learning, too?
No, not Nitza.
No, Grandma doesn't like Amharic.
We're working on getting rid of my accent.
-What?
-What?
But it's a secret, don't tell.
No…
Nitza…
Teachers will be teachers.
She corrects everyone.
She probably corrected her once.
No, we have a notebook
and we do homework, but it's a secret.
So Nitza doesn't like our accent.
No, I told her
I love your accent.
Amharic rolls off your tongue.
I'm learning "tenesh tenesh."
"Tenish tenish."
-"Tenish tenish"?
-No.
"Tenish tenish."
Why don't you teach me?
I need a teacher.
Nitza,
may God take you.
It means "I love you."
Nitza,
may God take you.
Wow.
If I were Nitza,
my heart would be melting.
Could you teach me everyday phrases,
like "how much is this?"
What for?
Are you going
to get hair extensions?
Amharic is a language of love.
Here's one.
-A really romantic phrase.
-I'll write it down.
May you go shopping…
and never find your way home.
Beautiful.
Sounds like a song.
What does it mean?
I'm embarrassed to say,
it's between…
a husband and his wife,
you whisper it
in her ear.
May you go shopping
and never find your way home.
Yes. Every time Nitza goes shopping,
whisper it in her ear.
Whenever she goes shopping,
I say:
"May you go shopping
and never find your way home."
Yes.
When she comes home, I say:
"May God take you."
Very good.
Exactly.
Michal, your idea with the pictures
is lovely.
-Thank you.
-You're welcome.
But not all parents
have pictures at home.
-No one said anything to me.
-Because it's embarrassing.
It's a sensitive matter.
Dafna Valenstein's mother
doesn't want people asking
where Mr. Valenstein is.
Where is he?
In a test tube
at the sperm bank.
And Shahar Babayof.
What?
Didn't you notice
he looks nothing like his parents?
That's right.
His biological father
is Einat's yoga instructor.
No way.
Yes, he did lots
of Downward Dog with her.
You don't say.
And Lielle?
No, he's her father.
There are redheaded Iraqis.
Hi.
Hi, honey, how's it going?
Fine.
Honey,
who is this kid?
It's me.
Get serious.
Who cares?
It's just a kid.
Looks more like me
than the map of Ethiopia.
Now we can take it
to kindergarten.
Okay…
but I spoke with Michal,
she called off the project.
Why?
You know how hard it was
to get these pictures?
I had to send that kid a friend request
on Facebook. He declined.
Eliran convinced him
I'm not a pedophile.
Okay, but it's not just our problem.
The whole project is problematic.
Dafna's dad?
He's a sperm donor.
Omri's mom
doesn't know who the father is.
So now I'm in the plastic cup
and orgy group?
No, I'm just saying
not everyone has pictures.
But I do
and I want everyone to see them.
But that's not you.
And everyone will see.
No one will be able to tell.
Anyone with eyes
can see it's not you.
Oh, please,
people think we all look the same.
Even you on our second date
hugged some other Ethiopian.
You could've married him
without noticing.
He was tall and handsome.
I thought let's give it a chance.
Wanna bet no one can tell?
Honey, there's
no resemblance whatsoever.
Different nose, different mouth.
I'd think it's Diana Ross
when she was little
before thinking it's you.
Okay, are we betting
on a massage?
I'm always up for betting
on a foot massage.
Gili, you haven't changed one bit.
And what an active kid.
You played soccer, guitar
and skateboarded.
I did so many sports
that my feet always hurt.
To this day, I need
lots of foot massages.
Right, honey?
Look carefully at the pictures.
Doesn't anything seem strange?
What's strange?
This is strange.
Yes, this picture is strange.
Skateboarding on that wooden board?
Very dangerous.
Yeah, what kind of message
is that for Maayan?
You can clearly see
her father is on a skateboard.
See, honey?
They can clearly see it's me.
How did Alamito let you
do something so dangerous?
My mom trusted me.
She bought me
whatever I wanted.
My childhood was…
well, you can see for yourself.
Yes, Gili,
you have a wonderful mother.
She's teaching me Amharic now.
Nitza, may God take you.
Dad, that's amazing.
What does that mean?
It's…
Nitza, I love you.
Right.
You can say it
in Hebrew, too.
But you say it differently to me.
Because I say it simply.
The way my mother speaks
is very rich…
-Here's another one.
-Go on.
May you go shopping
and never find your way home.
What does it mean?
I don't know word for word.
It's something
between a husband and wife.
When Alamito said it,
she was a bit embarrassed.
What does it mean, Gili?
It is a bit embarrassing.
But, yes, it's something
a husband says to his wife
after many years together.
Michal, hi.
Because the project is so important
to you, I did some profound research
and found out
that Maya Valenstein's father
isn't a sperm donor after all.
He's a gay friend.
He'll give her pictures.
He'd be happy
to give her pictures.
And I was wrong
about Shahar Babayof.
The father doesn't know
he's not the father.
We're the only ones.
There's not enough room.
What?
Bigger poster.
Okay.
And Michal?
Does the poster
have to be that size?
Because we have lots of pictures.
-Slob.
-Slob, yes.
Gili, how are you?
Yaakov's here.
You're the biggest slob
I've ever met.
Mom, are you out of your mind?
Does that mean:
"I want some coffee"
or "please make me some coffee"?
There is no "please" in Amharic,
only imperative. "Make me."
Mom, what are you doing?
If he orders coffee from
an Ethiopian waitress, she'll kill him!
What are you doing?
I love Yaakov.
It's not to him, it's to Nitza.
You won't believe what she's doing.
I don't care,
nothing could justify
the horrible thing you're doing.
Nitza is giving your daughter lessons
so she won't have an Ethiopian accent.
What?
I don't believe you.
Everyone knows except you.
That woman is unreal,
she sticks her nose into…
Mom, teach him what you used to say
about our neighbor.
Remind me.
I hope your long nose gets stuck
in someone's butt.
What a beautiful phrase.
I'll teach him.
Okay, Gili, honey, bye.
Yaakov, listen…
Read.
Read nicely.
A dozen dim ding-dongs.
No, Maayan, not "ding-dongs,"
but ding…
Put your tongue against your teeth
like Grandma, look.
A dozen dim ding-dongs.
Don't think about Daddy,
forget Daddy.
What's going on here?
Nothing.
What's going on?
Nothing…
We're playing.
-Playing?
-Yes. -Playing what?
Monopoly.
Where is the Monopoly?
Okay, I'll rat myself out.
We're working on Maayan's accent.
Okay, I said it.
What accent?
Her Swedish accent.
You know, her D and Z and…
all those…
-letters of yours.
-Don't be ridiculous.
She was born and raised here.
Raised, not "raised."
Are you imitating me?
I don't have an accent.
She was raised.
Raised, not "raised."
Daddy, you have the same D
as Grandma Alamito.
There, the truth has been spoken.
Don't be silly, sweetie.
I don't talk like that.
A dozen dim ding-dongs.
What was that?
An accent, that's what.
Doug digs dirty dugouts.
Accent?
No, not at all.
-Of course.
-Okay, but it's not tick.
Thick, not "tick."
I don't sound
like a new immigrant.
Sound, not "sound."
Don't do that.
"Don't do that."
Don't do that!
-Don't do that.
-Don't do that!
No, don't do that.
Don't do that!
Fine, I'll keep my mouth shut.
Alamito, check this out.
I'm going to the market.
Shall I get you a goat or a sheep?
Good job, Yaakov.
-Did I teach you that?
-No.
I bought a phrase book and tapes,
so I'm really making progress.
Yes, but those aren't useful phrases.
Since when do you go
to the market to buy sheep?
-Hello, Yaakov.
-Hi, Shmelash.
Did he run away from Nitza?
I understood that.
Wait, you said…
he, Nitza and "midebek,"
what's "midebek"?
-Does he speak Amharic?
-Yes, I speak Amharic.
Oh, no.
Why "oh, no"?
I'm doing well.
Here it is, "midebek."
Listen,
I can't teach you anymore.
Why? I'm really enjoying it.
Come on, Yaakov,
what does a new immigrant have
aside from gossiping in his language
without others understanding?
Yes, but we're growing closer,
we understand each other.
So what was that?
"Yehe" is "he,"
Nitza is Nitza
and "midebek"
is "run away."
"He's running away from Nitza."
I'm running away from Nitza?
Do you like the picture
of Mommy in the car?
She's all messy with ice cream.
Let's change it.
Mommy!
Never mind,
we'll leave it there.
Hello.
Grandma, come see the pictures
when Mom and Dad were little.
You were so handsome,
and look at those clothes.
And the guitar.
He got whatever he wanted
and still complained.
Hi, Alamito.
Hi.
Look what I found.
Wow, Mom, you kept that?
When they put us on the plane, Gili
was scared. He'd never seen one before.
-Neither had you.
-That's right.
So one of the soldiers
gave him this toy.
All the kids were so jealous,
there was such a commotion,
we could barely take off.
And look,
remember the trip
with the Jewish Agency?
Oh, how sweet.
Dad, you rode a donkey?
Of course,
we had lots of donkeys in our village.
Your dad rode better
than any of the other kids.
He was always on the donkey,
he never walked anywhere.
We were afraid he'd be fat.
Is that so?
Daddy, that's your nicest picture.
-Really?
-Really.
Wow, those donkeys really loved me.
I understood them.
This is the way.
We walked the whole way.
It's about 600 km.
Like the Israelites in the desert.
It took them 40 years,
they were really out of shape.
And that plane
your mother kept?
-It's amazing.
-Are you done, Gili? Okay.
Now look.
-This is Tamari's part.
-Mom, stop it,
-it's not interesting.
-Why not?
Don't be silly, it's very interesting.
Here's Tamari as a little girl.
She was such a good driver,
but I had her take ballet lessons.
She danced so beautifully.
Pas de deux
and pas de chat…
I'm so envious of you.
Yes, my parents
were really great.
No, that your partner
has such a fascinating life story.
I'd take his part of the poster
and make it part of
all the kindergartens' curriculum.
-Amazing.
-I'd gladly cooperate.
My business card is in the car.
-Tamari, why didn't you make a map?
-Because…
People like maps.
To show the journey we made.
We made a long journey
from Europe, too.
-Made.
-That's what I said.
No way.
You just said an Ethiopian D.
No, I didn't.
You just did it again.
-How did you learn that?
-I don't know…
It's an epidemic!
Maayan, we're leaving.
Nitza, maybe you shouldn't
see each other so much.
We don't want the speech therapy
to go down the drain.
What speech therapy?
I don't know
what he's talking about.
Your pictures are so nice.
You're lucky you have so many.
Yeah.
So you can see how boring
my entire life was.
What are you talking about?
You're having fun,
traveling, doing stuff.
Yeah.
You see a spoiled girl
who had everything done for her
and nothing interesting
happened in her life.
Honey,
how can you say that?
Everyone has something interesting
that happened to them,
everyone's had crises…
Everyone but me.
-You're just saying that.
-Fine.
-How old were you during the Gulf War?
-Ten.
You were little,
it must've been scary.
Yeah.
So the minute it started,
we flew down to Eilat.
But it lasted for so long,
we flew to Greece
because it got boring in Eilat.
We got back in time for Purim.
Okay.
In the army,
-you were a guiding instructor.
-So?
That's very challenging.
I was a guide
at the Air Force Museum,
I wasn't in combat.
But then
the second intifada started.
There must've been…
a lot of action,
operational activities and stuff.
Yes.
That's why most of my tours
were called off. I stayed home.
My mom drove me nuts.
Wow.
-So you only got spoiled?
-Yeah.
-Nothing ever happened?
-Nothing.
Never fell out of your stroller?
There was never
any little crisis?
I married an Ethiopian.
That's one helluva story.
Who didn't go to school
in something embarrassing?
You let me wear
Grandpa's underwear as shorts.
You still dress like that.
At least it was
your grandfather's underwear.
He wore someone else's
grandfather's underwear.
I can't see the vein.
Isn't it that blue thing?
-Nehama…
-Wait…
Wait…
What happened?
Do you know that
you have exploding veins?
No, but now I feel
like they're exploding.
You're scaring me!
Surgery went well.
What's that noise?
Don't worry, Yakov,
they're protesting outside, but…
I'll go out the back entrance.
No one will recognize me.