I’m not a huge fan of reality shows. I do watch things like Project Runway and Top Chef, because I like watching what the contestants can create and how they are able to create it, but even the commercials for any of the Real Housewives of Wherever shows or The Bachelor and The Bachelorette make me nauseous. So I wasn’t thrilled when my current Hebrew teacher (in my online language classes from Tel Aviv) said that the Israeli show we’d be watching as a class this semester, to practice our Hebrew listening skills, would be a reality show called Married at First Sight (Chatunah MiMabat Rishon, in Hebrew).
Oy, God help me.
The logic behind her choice was that she wanted us to practice listening to how people really speak Hebrew in daily life, with all of the repetitions and slang and run on sentences, as opposed to the scripted Hebrew of the comedy and drama shows I watched (and loved) in previous classes. And I can see her point. But…
The gimmick of this particular show is that the couples don’t meet until they are under the Chupah (the wedding canopy). There’s a three member team of psychologists who interview the candidates and choose the pairings based on their deep knowledge of humanity, I guess, though they are limited in their choices by who is willing to be on a reality show like this in the first place.
And then we, as an audience, get to know the future bride and groom and where they work and who their friends and families are, and we watch them trying on wedding dresses and suits and talking to the psychologists, and then the families and friends meet at the wedding venue, and then the bride and groom come out and finally meet each other for the first time under the Chupah.
The wedding ceremony itself is sort of Jewish-wedding-lite, except, they still have the “groom” stomp on a glass (an important symbol meant to remind us of the loss of the first and second temples in Jerusalem, so that even on our happiest days we still remember our saddest days), and even that much feels icky.
We’re watching the fourth season in class, which means that this show has lasted quite a while, and a lot of people seem to enjoy it. This season was filmed during Covid, so there are face masks here and there, and they probably did a lot of Covid testing behind the scenes, and the only place the couples could go on their honeymoons, outside of Israel, was the Seychelles, for some reason.
So far, every time one of the brides has been introduced at the wedding, her soon to be groom has been blown away by how beautiful she is, which gets under my skin. The women that are chosen are all thin, of course, and the makeup and hair people are excellent, and the dresses are beautiful too. The guys look a bit more average, though none of them has a beer gut. For me, all of this adds to the ugh-factor, because I am not skinny or perfect, and I don’t have a team of makeup and hair people on call, and I’d still like to believe that someone could fall in love with me, but shows like this keep telling me it’s not possible.
Following along with the almost-like-a-Jewish-wedding concept, the couple first gets to spend some time “alone” together, with a cameraman, when they go to the Yichud room (the togetherness room) after the ceremony. This is a custom in orthodox, or strictly orthodox, weddings, where the Yichud room is the first time the bride and groom are allowed to be alone together without a chaperone, and therefore finally get a chance to hold hands, or even kiss (there isn’t much time for anything else, but now that they’re married they can do whatever they want). On the show, this really is just a time for the new couple to talk to each other for the first time and exchange small bits of information, like, I have a dog, I have ten tattoos, or I smoke (which, I guess, is still a thing in Israel).
Then there’s the party, with all of the music and dancing and friends and such, and everyone comments on how wonderful the match is, just to reassure themselves that this whole thing isn’t crazy.
Then the couple goes to an apartment for the night, to talk and eat and put on their wedding rings and find out where they’re going for their honeymoon (The Seychelles? Oh my God! Who knew!), all filmed by a camera person, or camera people. And then, at some point, the camera people leave and the door is closed for the night. Thankfully.
So, each week in class, after we’ve watched the week’s episode on our own, we discuss what we liked, didn’t like, didn’t believe, laughed out loud at, wanted to scream about, etc. It’s such a silly show that our conversations about it end up being mostly fun and silly too, though there is quite a lot of backseat diagnosing (because some of the brides and grooms are crazy), and there are always a lot of questions about what the team of psychologists could have been thinking by putting these two people together. Oh, and all of this discussing has to be done in Hebrew.
Not surprisingly, I can’t relate to most of the people on the show. They are presented to us as the most charming, gorgeous, successful and ambitious people, almost as if they are all the same person, though, clearly, they aren’t. The one thing they do have in common, though, is a willingness to have their intimate relationships recorded and aired in public, which I don’t understand.
I remember how awful it felt when I had to do a sleep study at home, and along with wearing all kinds of monitors I had to keep a video camera aimed at me twenty-four/seven, in case I had some kind of cardiac or neurological event and they needed to see what I was doing when my numbers went wonky. I hated knowing that some stranger might eventually be watching me sleep, eat, or watch TV, though the likelihood that even one person would ever watch a small part of the tape was really low.
And even if I could tolerate being watched all day and night, I would be deeply suspicious that my “groom” would just be saying that nice/patient/compassionate thing because the cameras were on him and he wanted to look good on TV, and once the cameras stopped the real person would be an asshole and I’d feel like a fool.
My teacher this semester is a beautiful, young, charming, funny actress/student from just outside of Tel Aviv, so in a way this show fits the energy of the semester overall: lots of silliness and fun, and nothing too deep or serious. She herself, she says, has not been tempted to try out for the show, and prefers making fun of the people who do, which makes her more relatable. She’s always friendly and full of praise for our attempts to speak Hebrew, and never negative or hurtful, but still, part of me worries that this reality show is telling me what real Telavivians are like, and if I go there, which I really want to do, they will rip me apart. Though that could be my old stuff playing up again, from back in elementary school when the beautiful, competitive, well-dressed girls in my class hated my guts.
There’s also the disorienting fact that while this is a reality show taking place in Israel, there is no sense of the politics, or violence, or the social divides between Jews and Arabs and between secular and religious Jews. Even in my lovely, fun, cheery Hebrew class this semester, we still had to talk about the terrorist attack that happened in Tel Aviv recently, where sirens and ambulances and death took over the city for a while. But those things don’t come up on the show, or at least, they haven’t so far.
Hopefully, as the season goes on, there will be a little bit more reality in this reality show, and maybe one or two people I wouldn’t mind meeting in real life. But even if nothing improves on the show, I’m definitely improving my Hebrew listening skills, and learning more about how real Israelis talk when they don’t have a script; which has been reassuring, actually. Clearly I’m not the only one who struggles to find the right words.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my Young Adult novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
what a fascinating, surreal zany way to practice Hebrew listening & speaking! that tv show sounds a lot like an acid trip! it does open up new pathways in the brain to encounter such immersive energies. much of our lives are filled with sociocultural programing & encouragement to maintain equilibrium. it’s good for the brain & nervous system to step outside of the accustomed box now & then.🙏🏼🦋🙏🏼
It’s certainly a way to get to know new people.
Like you I am definitely not a big fan of reality TV shows and this one does disturb me! MAFS has an Australian version which I have only seen bits and pieces of. You get sucked in but then think to yourself these are not real people behaving in real-life situations. Then I bail. Hopefully, you won’t be subjected to this for too much longer!
It’s so disorienting to watch people trying to make this weirdness seem normal.
I so agree Rachel. There is also a lot of physiological damage done to participants to boost the ratings. Take care of yourself and your fur babies. Lynn
Thank you!
haha yes I hear you there and we do have a German version of that show. I think it goes way to far in so many ways, but there must be people really enjoying it (or language teacher using it for practice) because else there wouldn’t be a version in every country.
I’m sure you are right! I even had a friend who did the hair and makeup for the Aussie version!
Oh wow I bet your friend could tell some stories.
Wow! I used to think “The Dating Game” was a pretty bad idea. The thought of getting married to someone I haven’t even met gives me the heebie jeebies. I wonder if the newlyweds stay together very long or divorce ASAP.
They have forty some odd days together to decide if they want to get married for real, but it’s so weird!
I only watch two reality shows: live baseball and live tennis. Telavivians, that is one looong term for the residents of that beautiful city. They did produce one fine tennis player, Dennis Shapavalov. Good to hear the marriage show is improving your Hebrew. My own time spent in Israel was wonderful. Next year in Jerusalem!
Yes!!!!
It would be a good way to learn how real people talk to each other, but everything about the show makes me shudder. Imagine not meeting your spouse until the wedding day. I’m going to have nightmares after reading this. So are your dogs!
Ha! I’m pretty sure Cricket is still mad that she had no choice about Ellie moving in, years ago now.
Of course. I understand completely. It was the same with our two dogs. Permanent hurt feelings!
Exactly!
This was fascinating to read about. That reality show sounds very unreal!
Seriously!
Interestingly, you’re the second blogger I’ve seen writing about MAFS! (Though the other post about it was a criticism of the franchise.)
I think it’s horrifying to be expected to watch a reality TV show. Even some cooking shows are rubbish. The thought of any involving people trying to form relationships in the artificial environment of TV is detestable.
It’s very very strange.
Ewwww, we have that show in Australia too, I absolutely hate it. It is such a toxic show. Isn’t there another, better show?
There has to be!
Makes me glad we don’t have a TV, and one of the many reasons we don’t is because it was nothing but soap operas or reality shows. Bad enough having the soaps on every day (some repeated daily) then a roundup of all of them on a Sunday! This sort of show would not appeal to me in the least as it is just play acting to the camera, and as you say, the women are specially picked that fit a profile.
I have often wondered if the feelings are real when actors or actresses marry. One immediately comes to mind, but I’m not going there.
Ha! It has to be confusing for the participants.
The brides might look beautiful when they’ve got a full hair & beauty team helping – but after? … who knows. Best quote ever from Cindy Crawford ‘ even Cindy Crawford doesn’t wake up looking like Cindy Crawford, it’s a team effort’ which is quite a refreshing thing to hear from a supermodel. I guess they have to comment on the physical because there’s been no other interaction so that’s all they can reference. Whatever the language it’s all too ghastly – cheap, reality TV.
That’s really helpful. Thank you!
I always try to avoid reality shows, suspecting that they must be more fake than any well written drama; having said that, I really enjoyed this read about one such show.
Thank you!
What a crazy zany show and definitely a unique way of learning Hebrew. Yep, like you, I don’t watch reality shows (cooking shows are exempt) as I find them all so scripted. What a nutty world we live in! Stay well.
Very nutty! Thank you!
I sort of experienced this when, many years ago, I married a handsome, charming man I had known for 3 weeks. After 11 years, turns out I had been living in a reality show, LOL!
Eek!
Really crazy way to marry someone! Really enjoyed your input on the show and agree that I wouldn’t be able to relate to all the ‘perfect’ women. Such a good read🙂
Thank you so much!
Your class sounds exciting. And you’re brave for taking it. I’d probably make up some excuse not to.
It’s worth being brave to do something I really want to do. But I still get anxious for every class.
I’m with you 100%.
Reality shows suck whether they’re in English or Hebrew, in the US or Israel.
Never in the mood for them.
Be thankful you didn’t have seasons of sleep studies.
Eek!!!
Rachel, I hope you, Cookie, and Ellie are really, really well. I hope the summer season is its own enjoyably different time for you. As for the show, well, at least watching it and hearing it is kind of an immersive experience, which is good for language-learning. Otherwise, it seems everyone is willing to take the silliness in stride, including the premise–premise that I agree must be taken with some twinges or several grains of salt. As to the nonstop, production prettiness, that would be a chore of endurance. At the insistence of a student, I watched the season finale of one of the either bachelor or bachelorette shows. It was a chore of endurance. Please be well. Woof to the muses.–Christopher
I think getting the chance to practice my Hebrew makes the watching bearable – a whole episode of The Bachelor, in English, might actually kill me.
It was a double episode as well. Must have been the dedication of teaching that sustained me.
I don’t really appreciate reality shows. Too much bitchiness and negativity for me.
Yep. Way too much.
Amen.
Ooh, I hate reality tv. I can see how it would be a really good language tool, but oof… Your appraisal of reality tv is excellent though. And I would imagine that Israeli reality tv is about as representative of actual Israeli life as American reality tv is of American life.
I hope you’re right, because it was very discouraging.
I love Israeli shows, particularly Shtisel and Srugim- I like the creative way your teacher is introducing language – not sure i would be a fan of that reality show…. great post
Thank you!
So sorry to hear this Rachel.
I feel the sadness and frustration in your voice and that’s a LOT of money. You will be happy when you are all done. good luck! 💖