Listening to conversations over the past few days, I’ve found my long-forgotten (and, even at its peak, already remedial) Hebrew to be holding up much better than expected. I understand about every second or third word, which is usually enough for me to at least get the vague gist of the conversation.

Where that falters, though, is on humor – apparently, understanding jokes requires far better comprehension than I possess. And, while shooting interviews, that’s a problem – when someone’s best material falls flat, they’ll often try to explain it (or, at least, disclaimer it as an intended joke), interrupting the flow of the conversation.

So, to avoid that awkward situation, I’ve taken unconsciously to mirroring the expressions of the Israelis around me. When they look sympathetic or impressed, I catch myself doing the same. When they burst out laughing, I can’t help but do so to; at very least, I smile and shake my head knowingly.

Yet, while I usually feel like I’m doing a surprisingly good job of following along, in the middle of each faux guffaw, I can’t help but think to myself: actually, I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on.