Arabic

In the early days of this silly little blog, I put up a post that was essentially a crib from an experiment in Wiki creation that I was playing around with. ‘Ten Word Arabic’ was picked up by GN and a couple of big American blogs and has consequently turned out to be one of the most popular things I’ve written here in the past year. I’ve long meant to get around to doing a ‘proper’ singular version that doesn’t link out to the Wiki, which can be awfully annoying, and so here it is.

Some people think I’ve wasted 20 years in the Arab World, but I can prove ‘em all wrong. The following is the synthesis of everything insightful and useful I have learned about the Arabic language. Well, almost everything.

Arabic is not an easy language for speakers of the Romance languages. It’s not impossible, but it’s not easy. Worse, pretty much everyone speaks English and people are often more keen to use their English than listen to you mangling their language.

The following ten words will allow you to get by, have meaningful sounding conversations and serve you well in any number of situations and scrapes. The investment required to get from this to speaking proper Arabic is so great, and the commensurate rewards so small, that you’ll probably never progress beyond Ten Word Arabic.

1) UGH

Ugh is the most important word in the Arab World. It's also pretty useful further east as well, although I have only personally tried it in Sri Lanka and not the subcontinent.

Ugh is used in Arabic to denote agreement, denial, affirmation, condescension, surprise, pain, acrimony, patrimony and, for advanced users, pleasure at a serendipitous encounter (Eu'gh!).

Note also its close cousin, the Lebanese expression of disgust, surprise, resignation, irritation and wonderment: 'Euft'.

TE Lawrence (Thomas Edward 'Ned' Chapman, AKA TE Lawrence, AKA TE Shaw. He's always fascinated me, has 'little Lawrence'.) once entered the town of Deraa disguised as a Circassian and using only the word 'Ugh' to get by. He was captured and comprehensively buggered, so this just shows the importance of properly practicing 'Ugh'. It is also argued that it shows how daft it is to use an Arabic 'Ugh' when talking to Turks.

2) SHOU

Lebanese/Palestinian (or Lebistinian if you prefer) slang for 'shinoo' which translates as 'what?'. Jordanian slang version is 'Aish'. In Egyptian it's 'Eida'. You start to see why the Arab world is quite as much fun as it is, no?

Belongs with 'hada' which isn't a component of Ten Word Arabic, but which is useful nonetheless and means 'that'.

So shou hada means 'what's that?'

Shou also is used to denote general query, as in 'what's happening, guys?' ('Shou?') or 'What's the stock market looking like this morning?' ('Shou?').

Shou can also be used in place of any query, from 'Why are you in pain?' to 'Where are you going?'

Shou can also be used to comprehensively diss someone. It's a difficult technique that's tied in closely to body language, which is used a lot in the Arab world, but basically you say the 'shou' in a totally dismissive way, turning the head to the left and flicking it in a sideways and downwards direction. This means 'what a heap of shit'.

The only way to respond to this is by using the same gestures but saying 'shou shou'. That outshous the shou. Or, in Arabic, that'll shou 'em.

3) YANI

One of a number of highly important key phrases in Levantine, particularly Lebanese Arabic (So not a Greek chillout musician, that's Yanni).

Yani means 'kind of' and is used frequently, also serving as a replacement for 'somehow', 'umm' and a million other syntactical spacers... It helps to pronounce the 'a' from the back of the throat, because in Arabic it's an 'ain', so written ya3ni in 'MSN Arabic'.

For instance: 'So I say to him, yani, what kind of car is that heap of shit? And he's like, yani, really pissed at me.'

Also used as a response to any given question, meaning 'Oh, you know...' where the amount of aaa in the yani is used to denote a studied indifference.

'Are you still going out with Fadi's sister?'

'Yani'

'She that hot?'

'Yaaaaani'

4) KHALAS

For a two syllable word, Khalas is certainly a complex little critter.

Pronounded khalas, halas, kalas depending on the mood, nationality and context, it means 'enough' but also 'stop' and 'I've had enough of your bullshit, get down to brass tacks or I'll do yer.'

As a term of contempt ('forget it and stop being so utterly stupid'), it can be quite nicely deployed by rolling the 'kh', a sound made at the back of the throat by the bit of the tongue that would be just before the late market if your tongue was the technology adoption lifecycle, and then lengthening the aaaaaaaalaaaaaaaas.

Like much Arabic, the words alone are not enough: it helps to use the hand in a gesture of denial and avert the head. This is also performed in a certain order for maximal impact: hand signal like policeman standing in front of speeding car, say 'Khalas' and avert head. If female, it is best to toss the head.

5) NAAM

Not to be mistaken for neem, which is a type of tree that grows in buddhist temple grounds, 'naam' is Arabic for yes. So is 'aiwa, which does tend to rather complicate things. One thing that is for certain is that 'no' is always 'la'.

Naam = yes

La = no

6) AKID

The importance of the word 'akid' (akeed) in Arabic can not be overstated: it's vital. It means 'for sure' and is the only way to test if someone's serious about a date or a promise or other undertaking.

'You will have the consignment by the 14th, ya habibi.'

'Akid?'

'Inshallah'

This conversation obviously means that you're about to be royally shafted and that the consignment has, in fact, been stolen by Papuan pirates just south of Aceh and the shipping agent knows this but isn't telling you.

7) SALAAM

Arabic for 'wotcha', it actually means 'peace'. The more formal 'Salaam Aleykum' is used for a proper greeting, salaam is used to a familiar or generally mumbled to all present when getting into a lift or arriving within a gathering. The response is 'Aleykum al Salaam'.

It's important because by using it you can be polite. So few people bother with these little pleasantries, but a smile and a little politeness don't half go a long way in the Arab World.

'Tara' is 'ma'salaama'

8) FIE

Fie (pronounced 'fee') is another powerfully multipurpose word. It means 'enough' or 'sufficient' or 'plenty' or 'too much' depending on how it's used. The only certainty is its antonym, 'ma fie' which always means 'none'.

I suppose its most accurate translation would be 'a plentiful sufficiency'.

9) MUSHKILA

Mushkila means 'problem' and, given that you spend half your time here flagging up, dealing with or avoiding problems, then it gets used a lot. So you have 'fie mushkila' (a great big problem with grindy, gnarly teeth and warts and things' or the debased assurance 'mafie mushkila' (no problem. This is ALWAYS, and please don't get me wrong here, ALWAYS not the case).

You'll sometimes hear 'mish mushkila' or 'mu mushkila'. These are dialect and both mean 'mafie mushkila' and so should be ignored.

10) INSHALLAH

Broadcaster and lobbyist Isa Khalil Sabbagh tells the story of the American businessman who was closing a deal in the Middle East and was told the contract would be signed tomorrow, 'inshallah'.

'What's God got to do with this?' asked our man, angrily.

Lots, of course. Because, as a consequence of his comment, his deal never got signed.

Inshallah means 'God willing' and is a phrase fundamental in so many ways to Islamic thought. A thing will occur in the future only if it is the will of God. An expression born of piety, it is also used pragmatically as a universal get out clause and avoids an absolute undertaking.

Avoiding an absolute undertaking is seen as a good thing, at least in part because it cuts down the likelihood that you'll have to be offended by being told 'No'. This concept that the answer 'no' is offensive and should be avoided is quite a simple one, but has been known to drive callow Westerners insane.

Incidentally...

You have now mastered Ten Word Arabic and can hold entire conversations without anyone realising that you are in fact not a native of deepest Arabia.

'Salaam'
'Ugh'
'Mushkila?'
'Fie mushkila'
'Yanni, shou?'
'Shou? Shou? Yanni, shou fie.'
'Akid, akid. Mushkila fie.'

All shake heads and tut a lot. All depart.

Amaze your friends! Stun business contacts! Speak Ten Word Arabic!

Fake

I get quite a lot of searches that end up here because someone looked for fake stuff. Fake chicken is one such example. There are a number of others, some quite worrying. Fake Plastic Women, for instance. Well, here's a post that is definitely 100% fake focused!

Pal Carrington just got an email from a gentleman calling himself Jamal Jumeirah. It's the Nigerian Fake Letter Scam, only in Dubai form:

Dear Friend,

It is indeed my pleasure to write to you this letter, which I believe will be a suprise, as we are both complete strangers.

As you read this, I don't want you to feel sorry for me, because I believe everyone will die someday. My name is Jamal Jumeirah, a former merchant in Dubai, in the U.A.E. I have been diagnosed with Esophageal cancer which was discovered very late, due to my laxity in caring for my health.

It goes on at great length - the payoff being the usual deposit money in bank account 5% could be yours kind of thing.

It's not terribly creative, which is a shame. There are so many more interesting ways that Jamal Jumeirah could make you rich... or take everything you've got to give...

Fart

It’s a constant fight to avoid sounding like an old fart. You know: “I can remember when that was all sand!” and all that. You drive past the airport that you once flew into when it was a small white moulded concrete terminal building with a single (appalling) restaurant that used to offer ‘Foul Madams’ highlighted with magic-marker lettering on a dayglo green star hanging off the buffet and the duty free that was down the escalator left of the pink marble-topped information desk, staffed by Indian girls in grey uniforms fussing under portraits of Sheikh Zayed and Sheikh Rashid hung in incredibly heavy gilt frames. Back in the days when you had to fill in pink immigration cards: when men were men and women were interested.

And now it’s smoked glass and impersonal efficiency: all stainless steel, escalators, travelators and elevators, ubiquitous Dubai-beige and red. More on the way with new terminals springing up like springing up things.

And it’s so very boring.

Marriage

Last week I promised some more extracts from that most compendious guide to every letter you'd ever have to write, 1111 Letters For All Occasions, published by New Light Publishers of New Delhi. I might have forgotten to tell you that I paid Dhs 12 for it, but I'm sure it's cheaper if you fly to Delhi and buy it. If you buy a number of copies, the savings will only increase. The ISBN is 81-85018-57-X and no, Amazon doesn't sell it.

Chapter 28 deals with matters marital and I am sure that if you only put some of this sensible, good advice into your own marriage, harmony will rule your home. Do not under any circumstances contact me as a consequence of this guidance. I shall deny everything.

I don't know about you lot, but I was crying by the end of the introduction...

Anyway. Here goes:

Mighty Marriage Matters
Marriage is not a bed of roses. Many thorny problems crop up between the husband and wife which need to be carefully tackled. If angry, the wife often goes away to her parents and can only be approached through correspondence.

Staying with parents
Dear Subhash
It is now three months that I have been staying with my parents and expecting you to come and take me home.
Is there anything in the matter?
Yours
Lilly

Positive Response
I regret that I could not go over to Calcutta to take you home because of pressing business problems.
I am coming next Sunday and will return home the same evening by air.

Negative Reply
I do not find you happy in my house with my parents. Therefore, I have no option but to let you stay with your parents as long as possible.

Reply to the above
That is no solution of the problem. We have to find a house of our own where we can live peacefully away from people's problems.


Coming of a Baby
You will be pleased to hear that I now carry a baby in my womb.
What provisions should we make for him?

Positive Reply
I am coming to bring you to Delhi and take you to the Jeevan Nursing Home on the Pusa Road for proper advice and care.
We shall reserve accommodation in the maternity ward.

Negative Reply
Since you are now pregnant, I suggest that you should continue to live with your father and mother till the new arrival.

Illness of the New Baby
I regret to inform you that Enu is ill and needs your immediate presence.
Come immediately.

Positive Reply
(Telegram)
ARRIVING ELEVENTH. SHAM KUMAR.

Negative Reply
If the baby is ill, let the doctors take care of her.
I am no doctor.


More next week...

Birthday

A year ago, with this post about the Arab Media Forum, I started this blog.

I think a celebration at the Thai Kitchen is in order!

Kuwait

I stayed at the Sheraton Kuwait the other week. It’s the first time, oddly, that I’ve stayed in that particular hotel and I would recommend it most heartily as the best business hotel I’ve ever stayed in: everything you need is there where you want it, from a printer in your room to free, high speed wireless Internet throughout the whole hotel. It’s truly excellent.

I do remember seeing it as a burned out hulk. Together with the Ramada Salaam, which was a boat, the Sheraton was one of two hotels, and in fact very few buildings, destroyed by the Iraqis as they legged it out of Kuwait. Apparently what they found scariest was the pinpoint accuracy of the cruise missiles and smart bombs, which is one reason why they didn't have the time or inclination to set off more of the explosives they'd wired up across the city. The speed of the US pincer-movement advance was the other reason, of course. I can attest to the accuracy claim, having seen the neat hole punched in the 9^th floor of the telecommunications Ministry building that led to the vapourisation of the Ericsson-made international switch. The operator positions on the other half of the floor were untouched. I have the photo to prove it. (well, actually I don’t. I lent it to Motivate for their Gulf Business 10^th anniversary of the invasion issue and forgot to get it back, but you know what I mean).

I had a minder for the week, provided by the Ministry of Telecommunications, because I was working on a supplement about the remediation of telecoms in Kuwait following the occupation. His name was Jaafar and he was a nice bloke, although one of life’s natural victims. Stuff just happened to Jaafar and it was never good stuff. He never expected good stuff and so was rarely disappointed. He went to university in the States and the kids thought it would be real fun to put a tab of acid in the Kuwaiti guy’s tea. He tried to describe the consequences to me, but I felt he fell far short of the reality – all those years of repression and trammelled thought suddenly bursting into a horrifying technicolour unleashing of everything, everywhere altogether.

He must have been a complete wreck for months afterwards.

It was thanks to Jaafar that I got a tour of the national museum, the other damaged building, which was closed to the public. The Iraqis had made a tremendous mess of it, taking most of the exhibits and burning the rest. The lady that showed me around was at great pains to show me the fireproof carpets that hadn’t burned. These were made in the UK, she kept telling me, as if this built an association between us of some sort. British people were in vogue right then, everywhere you went kids would shout out ‘Boosh good, Thatcher good!” at you.

The worst thing was the big hall in the museum. The soldiers had hanged pigeons by piano wire from the rafters as a sign that peace was dead. They couldn’t find doves, you see.

As we were driving to some telephone exchange or another from the museum visit, Jaafar took a wrong turning and ended up in a narrow dead end. There was no way he was going to be able to turn his enormous American car and I watched him just slump at the wheel. As he dejectedly surveyed the latest evidence that God had it in for him, it started to rain. He turned to me, his face a picture of misery, as the fat drops started to spatter on the windscreen.

“You see, Alex?” He said. “Zis is ze story of my fcuking life.”

I did like Jaafer.

Mushroom

Right, I was going to stick to my guns on this until Chris Saul starting sending people over here to check the 111 letters out. So, purely in Mr. Saul's honour, another excerpt from 111 Letters for all Occasions.

But that's it. No more until next week. No. No. No.

Asking Forgiveness

I am mushroom on which the dew of your grace drops now and then.

Let us harbour no thoughts of revenge, for revenge proves its own executioner.

Ours are the silent griefs which cut the heartstrings. Let us shake hands with time. Let us drown our differences in a cocktail at Ashoka Hotel tomorrow at 6.30pm.

Yours,

Rabid

Head for heights in Dubai

In a city that contains the world's tallest man-made structure, it can be hard to get a sense of perspective. Joy Lo Dico is dizzied by the highs and lows of the planet's most extreme tourist destination.

Saturday, 19 April 2008

For his 1979 travel book Arabia: Through the Looking Glass, Jonathan Raban stopped off in Dubai as the petro-dollar boom kicked in. Thirty years ago, no-one in Dubai could have foreseen the seven-star hotels, the extravagant shopping trips of Colleen McLoughlin and her fellow Wags, or George Clooney dropping into town. But its arrogance and aspiration was already evident to Raban.

"We passed the Dubai Hilton," he wrote. "It looked to me like a Hilton but it was marked by one of those singular honours which count for so much and seem – to an outsider – so numbingly unimportant. At that particular moment it was The Tallest Building In The Gulf and Sheikh Rashid of Dubai was apparently doting on it like a favourite child. Looking at its smug, slab-sides cliffs of glass and concrete, I hoped that it would not be allowed to enjoy its pre-eminence for too long."

STOP!

Stop right there. Yet another stupid report by a dumb 'been there for three days and know it all' blow-in, yet another useless, two-dimensional characterisation of Dubai from yet another someone who can't be arsed to look beyond the blindingly obvious. And the worst crime of all? She's started the whole stupid pile of ordure with a quotation from the original 'Been there, seen it, done that, gonna write it up and be home for tea' writer, Jonathan Raban. The man that dropped into the Gulf for a week, wrote a silly book about it filled with sweeping generalisations and assumptions and got away with the whole awful episode purely because so few people knew better in those days.

It is typical of Raban's slapdash, silly little book that he mistook the 33-storey Dubai World Trade Centre Tower for The Hilton, the four-storey building next door. It is even more typical that The Independent's brilliantly insightful journalist repeats the idiocy as she embarks on her shallow, idiotic sprint through Dubai before loading up on duty free and snatching her flight home to show her tan and some yellowish-looking diamonds to her mates.

It's enough to make you puke.

And if it's not, you can find the whole dumb, excruciating 'Paid a ferryman Dhs 100 to take me on a trip on the creek and bought a fake watch that fell apart, too' (Abra fare to anyone with half a brain, Dhs 50) piece of travel writing mediocrity here.

At least it's not as bad as the silly arse from the Daily Mail who wrote up how fun she found it shopping last year in Dubai's 'delightful and traditional old souk' - you guessed it, the Madinat Jumeirah.

The souk that was the inspiration for this blog's name, in fact.

More

I don't know why I'm so weak, I really don't. Here, then. But I'm not posting up any more of these until next Sunday. You'll just have to put up with the same old dross until then.

So. More excerpts from That Great Work, 111 Letters For Every Occasion.

Letters of Divorce

Divorces are not yet as common in the East as in the West, but the poisonous wind blowing around the world is infecting Indian youth. And we must do our best to protect our heritage of harmonious marital relations.

To the Mother

I am not feeling happy with Manmohan. He is given to liquour and has illicit sex relations with his brother’s wife.

O God, what should I do?

Positive Reply

Please have patience. Keep courage. Pray. Try to win Manmohan back from the part of evil.

I am sure God will help you.

Negative Reply

Your letter is shocking.

Really I do not know what to do.

Shall we consult a lawyer?

Consulting a lawyer

My husband and his mother are maltreating me and my life is very miserable. I am really living in hell. It is now for more than six months that we are separated.

Will it be possible for me to get divorce?

Positive Reply

I think it is possible for you to seek divorce under the circumstances that you have mentioned.

Please come to my office for further action.

Negative Reply

My gentle lady why must you hurry for a divorce?

Take time to cool down.

Letters

I have a number of prized possessions, for which I am thankful. Some of them are relatively valuable, like my first edition Seven Pillars of Wisdom and The Mint. Some have no value, like a neem leaf from a Buddhist temple in Sri Lanka or a rhododendron leaf from Cloud’s Hill. Some of them have a different value, like my 1845 copy of Household Management, an early cookbook. And some of them are simply beyond value. Into this last category falls my copy of a book called 1111 Letters For All Occasions. It is a work of insane genius. The authors are K. Malik, Anand Sagar and JS Bright. To them, and to New Light Publishers of New Delhi, I am eternally indebted. The book is intended to be a template for every letter you will ever have to write in life. All you have to do is pick up 1111 Letters, flick to the appropriate section (Matrimony, employment, commercial, official and others) and look up the letter you need. Although occasionally tempted to use one, I have always allowed wiser counsel to prevail.

I found 1111 Letters in an old stationery shop in Sharjah. It was lying, unloved and unwanted inbetween some Islamic esoterica and some charts for small children to learn how a tooth is formed. I idly picked it up, was instantly enraptured and bought it on the spot regardless of cost, considerable or otherwise. I simply had to have it.

“This must be regarded as the unique book of its kind. No author has ever attempted to write such a large number of letters, covering every walk and talk of correspondence.” Say the authors modestly in the preface, noting that when the publisher commissioned this great work the authors were hesitant to take on a task of such enormity. But, luckily: “When we proceeded deep into the woods of the correspondence, we found the jungle both fascinating and rewarding.” They finish their introduction with an assurance. “The reader will reap the fruits which the authors sowed and we are sure he will relish it.”

You can sing that one, boys. Never has one relished so much as I. The book’s charm lies partly in its strange and colourful language but mostly in the fact that its authors have simply made up a number of scenarios and written letters to suit these. We are therefore introduced to a whole fictitious universe, the lives of Manmohan, Singh, Prabakher, Lal and others are exposed as they quarrel, seek appropriate daughters, ship goods to each other, fall out and then go to court. Their strange correspondences give a new insight into an odd and wonderful world.

The following is a typical slice of the genius on offer in this most compendious and compelling of works.

Failing to keep appointment

You had promised to meet me in the Stock Exchange but you never turned up.

What is the fun of having any appointment when one does not have the capacity to keep it.

Reply to the above

Dear Mr Lal

You are mistaken. You had promised to meet me in the bank and not the Stock Exchange.

I fear your memory needs some training.

With best wishes

Yours sincerely

Sohan Kumar

Reply to Reply

Nonsense!

You are a dirty liar.

We had an appointment in the Stock Exchange and not in the bank.

Final Reply

Please don’t lose temper.

There could have been some kind of misunderstanding between us.

Let bygones be bygones.

The above is carefully typed and verbatim. It is only a scintilla from what is, to steal a certain Dubai Shopping Mall’s catchphrase, a rare collection of wonderful things. I shall offer more on a weekly basis, I think.