Posts tagged ‘arabic’
Murder on Sessine Square
The letter “meem” (equivalent to “m” in english) was found murdered in Sessine Square.
Time of death: Unknown.
Linguists are currently investigating the motives. Suspects under consideration are the Lebanese youth, who, when interviewed, would answer only in English or French (or both, further confusing the investigators). “Ya Man! Je ne sais pas!”
Guilty or innocent?
We’ll let you decide. We can only pray that no other Arabic letters suffer a similar, devastating fate..
(Ok, I’m just making this all up for fun. These installations announce the Arabic Language Festival to be held on June 26 in Hamra. Well-done!)
Nowhere, I belong.
I have a habit of writing notes to myself on my iPhone, usually potential blog posts. I wrote this note the other day while getting my nails done (toenails, in case you’re wondering how I typed):
When in the states, I’m regarded as an Arab/potential terrorist, and I’ve been teased as such. Here, I’m regarded as an American. Even when I try hard to disguise my American accent giveaways, I’m automatically found out.
My Spanish classmates (mostly Frenchies) used to get a real kick out of this. They have the lucky advantage of already knowing most of the grammar that is similar in French. For me, it’s all quite new. Not to mention the funny pronunciations of an American (or any English-speaking person) when it comes to suave Spanish words. They used to actually call me the “American”.
The more thought I give it, the more I realize how English-wired I am. It goes back to my English education and upbringing abroad. My thoughts, dreams and emotions are in English. I tried Arabic, and even Spanish for the heck of it, but my subconscious mind did not enjoy translating itself. So back to English it was.
But in essence, I’m also very Lebanese. I noticed this most while living in the USA. Certain expressions (“wallaw!” or “yi!”) managed to slip out of me even around mixed company. And within my actual company, my colleagues caught on. It was quite funny (and not to mention, embarrassing) when one former manager got such a kick out of the expression “kifak” that he ran around the office saying “kifak-you!” for a week.
Besides the expressions, I noticed it in my mannerism. For example, among friends, Americans deal with the check in a very civil way. They go Dutch. Lebanese insist on fighting over the check. That was one habit I had a hard time kicking for fear of being rude. Are all Lebanese programmed that way?
One of the first things I did, with the help of my older brother, was try to meet as many Lebanese as possible when I moved to Boston. I attended Lebanese committee meetings at MIT, Harvard and BU that regularly held events where Lebanese/Arabs mingled. The one I felt most at home with was NAAP (Network of Arab American Professionals). As the name of the group says, it’s for Arab-Americans. Most of its members had been living in the states for a large portion of their lives, others were students in Boston temporarily there to study or work. For once I didn’t have to be one or the other to fit in. An added perk: they always knew the best shawarma places in Boston!
I miss the friends I made through that group deeply, but I’m here now. I’m coping better than I first did when I moved back and it helps that I’m not the only one dealing with this.
Maybe I should start a NAAP chapter here in Beirut..
The Volcano’s Doorknob
Arenal Volcano in Costa Rica - Photo from M&R Tours Website
Do you know the words for the sexual body parts in Arabic?
Besides the ones used as curses, I don’t. I had to ask my friend Mayssam (who’s studying medicine) from across the table. They sounded archaic and I felt dirty repeating them for some strange reason. I don’t think I could use them with a straight face. Apparently, her older Lebanese patients have the same problem and actually get offended if she refers to “them” (the sexual body parts) for medical inquiries.
The role of language with regards to sexuality was discussed last night at Jasad Magazine‘s 6th issue launch at Bardo cafe. Jasad Magazine is a quarterly cultural magazine that revolves around the body (Jasad in Arabic means “Body”). With a powerful mission to break sexual taboos, the magazine embraces the body in all its representations, symbols and projections (which explains the broken handcuff in the logo).
But best of all, it’s published only in Arabic – which is a first step towards lifting lingual taboos.
Rather than talking about sex directly, Arabs tend to use creative metaphors similar to those of a Danielle Steel novel. “The volcano’s doorknob” was one such sexual metaphor (not too hard to figure out) that Jasad magazine’s editor-in-chief Joumana Haddad jokingly used to elaborate on the point.
Language plays a fundamental role in shaping the way we “hear” things. A foreigner hearing the affectionate words “I love you” in sing-song Italian will generally find it more appealing than hearing the same words in German. Similarly, the Arabic language, which is deeply-rooted in religious texts, will sound inappropriate when used for sexual references.
In Lebanon in particular, I don’t think it’s as much a problem of the language’s connotation, but rather how little we are actually taught in Arabic. When I was in school, the only classes taught in Arabic were History and Geography (which students had to memorize word-for-word from tacky books). I never understood why since everything else was in English! Had Biology been taught in Arabic, I think our Arabic sexual vocabulary would be richer.
Would it still be “inappropriate” (the word “taboo” doesn’t fit any longer) to talk about sex? No doubt, but that’s where culture and better-developed sex-ed classes come in..
Crane-Filled Mustard Sky
One of my good friends in Boston was originally from Dubai. She’d been raised there but doesn’t speak more than a few words of Arabic. When I first met her, I was completely surprised. How did she ever get by?
The past few days shed a blinding light on my curiosity. I went to Dubai for the first time in 2007. My closest friends live there and I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. We spent most of our time that trip on the beach, walking laps around the garangutan malls, drinking into the wee nights with Zaatar-w-Zeit breakfasts right after, and doing a few touristic things, like Dune riding. There isn’t really much to do besides that.
To say that Dubai has changed in the past two years is a major understatement. The entire skyline is different now. Burj Dubai, or what I like to call “Toothpick in the Sky”. hails as the tallest building in the world with the biggest mall, Dubai Mall, right beneath it. Dozens of other building sprouted and there are 20 different sectors/“villages” for every business industry. It feels like one massive Sim game where the players are bored sheikhs with the secret code that gives you unlimited cash.
For anything to exist in Dubai, it has to fit into one of these categories: the biggest, the tallest, the most luxurious, or the most ridiculous. Who’s the genius behind the world islands? The huge bubble finally burst when they claimed bankruptcy recently. A reality kick was certainly due after such insanely rapid growth, and hopefully things will tone down moving forward.
Eerie capture of Burj Dubai, by Michael Enning
Honestly, I’m not hating on Dubai. From literally a desert, rose an international city. Where only camels used to trot, now slide lavish Mercedes and gold-plated Hummers. It’s an adult playground that caters to the ambitious, expats searching for that Middle Eastern flavor, women/men with shopping addictions and your typical party-going, beach-lying hedonists.
One can’t help but appreciate how organized it is though. The streets are easy to navigate, the metro is running (but a little bit useless), and there’s an underlying sense of Western order. People actually respect the law. None of my friends will even touch alcohol if they are driving. If you have an accident and the cops detect alcohol, automatic jail time. No get-out-of-jail card, no tolerance.
Although Dubai is very much an Arab country (and all the Deshdeshes will keep you in check), it’s also eerily Western. It completely messed with my sense of perception. It looks like an Arab country, feels as dry as one, yet it’s full of foreigners – Americans, Irish, British, French, Swedish, Indian, Filipino – you name it! And they all seem to belong. Forget melting pot, Dubai is simply a world of its own. I just have to accept it as such.
And that answered my question as to why my friend never needed Arabic living there.
Tattoo You
Just received my first tattoo design client!! So I asked him how big he wanted it to be, and he sent me this:
.. tattoo goes here.
Pretty big, eh? He wants something a word written in the calligraphic Arabic style. Exciting!!
