July 30
Today all 25 American students plus the Cairo volunteers came to the district El Fayoum (about 3 hours away from Cairo) to do 4 days of community service (mostly painting). We're staying in a hostel/guest house that is part of a Catholic center in one of the villages.
I had a good Arabic experience this evening. We had about 1 hour of downtime between our arrival and suppertime, and everybody walked over to the soccer field to either play or watch. A little girl came up and sat down beside me where I was watching by the side of the field. It took me like five minutes to just get up the courage to ask her name in Arabic. But when I did, things really started to happen! She knows about 2 sentences in English, plus various words, so the conversation had to be pretty much only in Arabic. Her name is Karmah I learned, and I told her my name is Nura in Egypt and Laura in America. She is 11 years old. I understood when she asked had I arrived just today, and how long will I be staying in El Fayoum, and how long have I been in Egypt. I introduced her to Wade and Autumn, who walked up while we were talking, and she asked the names of the 3 students playing soccer and where they're from, and I answered her. She said some things I didn't understand, asked some questions I didn't understand, but I'd just say "I don't understand" in Arabic and she'd repeat it or go on to something else. One of the questions I didn't understand at first, but then she said "sister" in English and repeated the question in Arabic. I recognized "do you have" in Arabic and decided she's asking if I have a sister. So we discussed our families. She learned about my siblings in America and I learned that she's an only child. All this took place in Arabic and it made me so happy. I feel so successful and such a sense of accomplishment. Yay God!
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
language nerd musings
On the way home today my host sister Yasmin told me about one of the things that came up in her English class. The topic in class was sports, and one word that came up was "pitch", as in baseball. Except, you see, Arabic does not differentiate between the sounds /p/ and /b/. Phonologically, /p/ is just the unvoiced version of /b/ and Arabic tends to just use /b/, the voiced version. So when the Egyptian students said "pitch" it came out as a quite different English word!
Arabic also has only 3 letters for vowels and only recognizes 3 vowel categories, roughly [a], [i] and [u]. (Similar to how in English the [a] in "cat" and "car" we only recognize as a single vowel--"short a"--even though they are different sounds. Say them and see.) So for example in Arabic the sound "ee" as in "beet" and "i" as in "pit" both are covered by the [i] letter and are considered to be the same vowel.
So in a combination of both these phonological patterns (p/b and only 3 vowels), I discovered while talking futher with Yasmin that the words "beach," "peach," "bitch," and "pitch" sound completly identical to her. When she repeats any one of the words after me, they all come out sounding something like "betsh" with the "e" as in "England".
Another illustration of the implications of the 3-vowel framework: Last week I found out that to my host sisters, the 5 English words "wear," "where," "we're," "were," and "war" also sound completly identical. Yes, within those 5 words we recognize 2 sets of homonyms, but certainly all 5 don't sound the same to native English speakers (of American English, anyway). After I pronounced the 3 vowel sounds separately my sisters were able to hear a bit of difference.
All these observations just make me wonder what sort of implications my English phonological framework has on the Arabic that comes out of my mouth. Arabic has 5 pairs of consonants which to English speakers sound like only 5 consonants total. (The way the p/b pair sounds like only 1 consonant to my Egyptian friends.) Plus, Arabic actually has a consonant which sounds completly like a vowel to English speakers; but looking at the way this sound occurs in the language it is indisputably a consonant, it follows all the rules for consonants and none of the rules for vowels. My brain still subconsciously thinks of this sound as "a vowel that acts like a consonant!" I've gotten to the place where when hearing a word, I can differentiate most of the time between the 2 consonants in each of the pairs mentioned previously; the problem is I can't usually pronounce the unfamiliar consonant, saying instead the consonant which I'm used to using in English. So I wonder how my mispronounciations sound to the people around me; I could be saying absolutely hilarious things just because I don't recognize the correct sounds--but everybody's so polite that of course they wouldn't want to tell me.
Arabic also has only 3 letters for vowels and only recognizes 3 vowel categories, roughly [a], [i] and [u]. (Similar to how in English the [a] in "cat" and "car" we only recognize as a single vowel--"short a"--even though they are different sounds. Say them and see.) So for example in Arabic the sound "ee" as in "beet" and "i" as in "pit" both are covered by the [i] letter and are considered to be the same vowel.
So in a combination of both these phonological patterns (p/b and only 3 vowels), I discovered while talking futher with Yasmin that the words "beach," "peach," "bitch," and "pitch" sound completly identical to her. When she repeats any one of the words after me, they all come out sounding something like "betsh" with the "e" as in "England".
Another illustration of the implications of the 3-vowel framework: Last week I found out that to my host sisters, the 5 English words "wear," "where," "we're," "were," and "war" also sound completly identical. Yes, within those 5 words we recognize 2 sets of homonyms, but certainly all 5 don't sound the same to native English speakers (of American English, anyway). After I pronounced the 3 vowel sounds separately my sisters were able to hear a bit of difference.
All these observations just make me wonder what sort of implications my English phonological framework has on the Arabic that comes out of my mouth. Arabic has 5 pairs of consonants which to English speakers sound like only 5 consonants total. (The way the p/b pair sounds like only 1 consonant to my Egyptian friends.) Plus, Arabic actually has a consonant which sounds completly like a vowel to English speakers; but looking at the way this sound occurs in the language it is indisputably a consonant, it follows all the rules for consonants and none of the rules for vowels. My brain still subconsciously thinks of this sound as "a vowel that acts like a consonant!" I've gotten to the place where when hearing a word, I can differentiate most of the time between the 2 consonants in each of the pairs mentioned previously; the problem is I can't usually pronounce the unfamiliar consonant, saying instead the consonant which I'm used to using in English. So I wonder how my mispronounciations sound to the people around me; I could be saying absolutely hilarious things just because I don't recognize the correct sounds--but everybody's so polite that of course they wouldn't want to tell me.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Arabic is going well for me overall. Some of the other students have come to the conclusion that Arabic is just not something for them to pursue further (they had the attitude coming into it, as I did, that this summer would be a sort of trial run to see if it's something I want to continue with). But I'm really liking it a lot; even when it's difficult or frustrating I still feel an undercurrent of joy and delight in learning a completely new way of communicating.
One day last week I asked my family to only speak Arabic to me, except in the case of an emergency. The day went alright, except that they kept slipping up and speaking English to me! It was a good test of how much Arabic I've learned, and I was encouraged. I was thinking the other day, and came to the conclusion that I'm at about the same proficiency now in Arabic after 4-1/2 weeks as I was in Jo at the end of 10 years living in the village. It's frustrating though because I'm still not able to converse even a little bit with people on the microbus or in shops, not even exchange a few sentences.
Basically to be a functioning adult in the Arab world you need to know 2 related languages: a colloquial dialect used in day-to-day speech, and the Standard Arabic used in all printed matter but spoken only in very formal settings. These dialects/languages are related, but they are significantly different--enough that they have different words for 'this' and 'here' and conjugate pronouns differently.
In my Arabic class we've learned some Egyptian Colloqial Arabic, but we've spent more than half our time on Modern Standard Arabic--so a lot of what I've learned isn't immediately applicable to talking with people and that's where it gets frustrating. At the same time, to be a functioning adult in the Arab world you really do have to know MSA and it's what's normally taught in the US when one takes Arabic so it makes sense that we're being taught that in class.
I've decided I need to not let myself get bogged down in disappointment at how little I can speak, and focus on positive things like actively listening to the conversations around me.
At home with my family, about once or twice a day I'll understand 3 or 4 sentences in a row that somebody says to somebody else. There are many times that I understand one or two sentences. That's progress compared to when I arrived, when I didn't know anything at all.
*****
This past weekend we had Thursday off because it's a national holiday (Revolution Day--people don't celebrate it particularly, it's just a day you get off work) which created a 3-day weekend. My family took me to the beach at the port city Marsa Matrooh 6 hours away from Cairo on the Mediterranean. We only got to spend one day at the beach, but it was soooooooo beautiful! The water is the lightest shade of blue I've ever seen the ocean, and very clear, and the sand is large grains of crushed shells. There was also a cliff-y area near where we went, where you could climb on the sandstone near the water but stay out of the sea because the rocks were dangerous.
I'm familiar with strong sun from living in Mali so I covered up A LOT (wore a fitted t-shirt under my bathing suit, and shorts over my suit) and slathered on sunscreen but the sun was super-strong and I STILL got sunburned on my arms and face and lower legs!
****
On Wednesday the whole group of American students and host siblings and AFS volunteers is going to Khan el-Khalili, the most famous and biggest market in Cairo. It's also very touristy which is reflected in the prices (even Egyptians pay more for things in Khan el-Khalili than in other markets), although there are some non-tourist-influenced sections near the back which I hope we get to go to. We'll have lunch/supper out together. (Called 'lunch' here, it's the 1 main meal of the day, eaten sometime between 3 and 9 pm; several other minor meals are eaten during the day but they're more like snacks than meals.) Then we'll go to see a Suki dance performance. Suki are sometimes called 'whirling dervishes' -- a religious group who spin very fast during worship as a way to eliminate distractions and feel totally focused and spiritually connected. What we will see is not a religious event, though, but just a whirling dance based on the sort of dancing invented by Suki worshipers. It should be quite interesting.
One day last week I asked my family to only speak Arabic to me, except in the case of an emergency. The day went alright, except that they kept slipping up and speaking English to me! It was a good test of how much Arabic I've learned, and I was encouraged. I was thinking the other day, and came to the conclusion that I'm at about the same proficiency now in Arabic after 4-1/2 weeks as I was in Jo at the end of 10 years living in the village. It's frustrating though because I'm still not able to converse even a little bit with people on the microbus or in shops, not even exchange a few sentences.
Basically to be a functioning adult in the Arab world you need to know 2 related languages: a colloquial dialect used in day-to-day speech, and the Standard Arabic used in all printed matter but spoken only in very formal settings. These dialects/languages are related, but they are significantly different--enough that they have different words for 'this' and 'here' and conjugate pronouns differently.
In my Arabic class we've learned some Egyptian Colloqial Arabic, but we've spent more than half our time on Modern Standard Arabic--so a lot of what I've learned isn't immediately applicable to talking with people and that's where it gets frustrating. At the same time, to be a functioning adult in the Arab world you really do have to know MSA and it's what's normally taught in the US when one takes Arabic so it makes sense that we're being taught that in class.
I've decided I need to not let myself get bogged down in disappointment at how little I can speak, and focus on positive things like actively listening to the conversations around me.
At home with my family, about once or twice a day I'll understand 3 or 4 sentences in a row that somebody says to somebody else. There are many times that I understand one or two sentences. That's progress compared to when I arrived, when I didn't know anything at all.
*****
This past weekend we had Thursday off because it's a national holiday (Revolution Day--people don't celebrate it particularly, it's just a day you get off work) which created a 3-day weekend. My family took me to the beach at the port city Marsa Matrooh 6 hours away from Cairo on the Mediterranean. We only got to spend one day at the beach, but it was soooooooo beautiful! The water is the lightest shade of blue I've ever seen the ocean, and very clear, and the sand is large grains of crushed shells. There was also a cliff-y area near where we went, where you could climb on the sandstone near the water but stay out of the sea because the rocks were dangerous.
I'm familiar with strong sun from living in Mali so I covered up A LOT (wore a fitted t-shirt under my bathing suit, and shorts over my suit) and slathered on sunscreen but the sun was super-strong and I STILL got sunburned on my arms and face and lower legs!
****
On Wednesday the whole group of American students and host siblings and AFS volunteers is going to Khan el-Khalili, the most famous and biggest market in Cairo. It's also very touristy which is reflected in the prices (even Egyptians pay more for things in Khan el-Khalili than in other markets), although there are some non-tourist-influenced sections near the back which I hope we get to go to. We'll have lunch/supper out together. (Called 'lunch' here, it's the 1 main meal of the day, eaten sometime between 3 and 9 pm; several other minor meals are eaten during the day but they're more like snacks than meals.) Then we'll go to see a Suki dance performance. Suki are sometimes called 'whirling dervishes' -- a religious group who spin very fast during worship as a way to eliminate distractions and feel totally focused and spiritually connected. What we will see is not a religious event, though, but just a whirling dance based on the sort of dancing invented by Suki worshipers. It should be quite interesting.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sleep
It became obvious fairly early to me that sleep is thought of very differently here in Egypt than I was used to back in the US. Just how is it thought of here? I think I've figured it out. .
One clue is that people sleep at what (to Americans) seem very odd times of day. And people in the same family don't all sleep at the same time necessarily, either. One person in the family might stay up until 3 a.m. and then sleep until 9:30 a.m. Then sometime around 3:00 p.m. she may take a nap for a couple of hours, waking up around 5:30 pm to continue her day. Another person sleeps at 11:30 pm, wakes up at 8 a.m., takes a short nap from 2-3pm then stays up until 2:30 am that night. This is considered perfectly normal.
Children, at least during the summer time, are very rarely commanded by their parents to go to bed. In the three weeks I have lived here in Egypt, I have not seen my 9-year-old brother told to sleep.
People don't feel an obligation to be quiet because somebody is sleeping, either. If somebody decides to nap for a few hours in the living room under the fan, everybody continues watching TV, playing games, and conversing at a normal volume. "Shh, she's sleeping" is a concept that pretty much doesn't exist. (I said it once to my host brothers when our mom was sleeping right beside where we were playing our game. They looked at me very strangely and continued talking.)
Based on these clues, I've come to the conclusion that the idea of what sleep actually is is very different here from in the Western world. In the West, we tend to think of sleep as a very vulnerable undertaking, something to be safeguarded and protected, akin to going on a long journey or seeing how long one can stay underwater without coming up for air. Falling asleep happens only under optimal conditions, we somehow believe, and everybody around is under an unspoken obligation not to do anything that might jeopardize the success of the undertaking.
Here in Egypt, however, sleep is like any other voluntary action undertaken in response to a bodily need or desire. You DECIDE to sleep the same way you DECIDE to eat or to watch TV or play a game or talk or read a book. People don't disrupt the normal course of their life because you're trying to sleep any more than they'd go out of their way to help you eat or watch TV or read a book. The assumption is, if you're tired and want to sleep, then you'll choose to sleep and you will sleep—in the same way that if you're hungry and want to eat, you'll choose to eat and you will eat. Parents don't feel a particular need to make their children go to bed because it seems obvious that the child will sleep when he's tired and if he's not tired then why should he sleep?
In the Western world, we do have one segment of the population that does practice this sort of sleep attitude: teenagers. However, it's disapproved of by the rest of society and certainly not practiced by the rest of society. So here in Egypt I sometimes find myself feeling somewhat as though EVERYBODY is acting like a teenager when it comes to sleep: mothers and fathers and young children and grandparents as well as teenagers. And that's a very strange feeling.
One clue is that people sleep at what (to Americans) seem very odd times of day. And people in the same family don't all sleep at the same time necessarily, either. One person in the family might stay up until 3 a.m. and then sleep until 9:30 a.m. Then sometime around 3:00 p.m. she may take a nap for a couple of hours, waking up around 5:30 pm to continue her day. Another person sleeps at 11:30 pm, wakes up at 8 a.m., takes a short nap from 2-3pm then stays up until 2:30 am that night. This is considered perfectly normal.
Children, at least during the summer time, are very rarely commanded by their parents to go to bed. In the three weeks I have lived here in Egypt, I have not seen my 9-year-old brother told to sleep.
People don't feel an obligation to be quiet because somebody is sleeping, either. If somebody decides to nap for a few hours in the living room under the fan, everybody continues watching TV, playing games, and conversing at a normal volume. "Shh, she's sleeping" is a concept that pretty much doesn't exist. (I said it once to my host brothers when our mom was sleeping right beside where we were playing our game. They looked at me very strangely and continued talking.)
Based on these clues, I've come to the conclusion that the idea of what sleep actually is is very different here from in the Western world. In the West, we tend to think of sleep as a very vulnerable undertaking, something to be safeguarded and protected, akin to going on a long journey or seeing how long one can stay underwater without coming up for air. Falling asleep happens only under optimal conditions, we somehow believe, and everybody around is under an unspoken obligation not to do anything that might jeopardize the success of the undertaking.
Here in Egypt, however, sleep is like any other voluntary action undertaken in response to a bodily need or desire. You DECIDE to sleep the same way you DECIDE to eat or to watch TV or play a game or talk or read a book. People don't disrupt the normal course of their life because you're trying to sleep any more than they'd go out of their way to help you eat or watch TV or read a book. The assumption is, if you're tired and want to sleep, then you'll choose to sleep and you will sleep—in the same way that if you're hungry and want to eat, you'll choose to eat and you will eat. Parents don't feel a particular need to make their children go to bed because it seems obvious that the child will sleep when he's tired and if he's not tired then why should he sleep?
In the Western world, we do have one segment of the population that does practice this sort of sleep attitude: teenagers. However, it's disapproved of by the rest of society and certainly not practiced by the rest of society. So here in Egypt I sometimes find myself feeling somewhat as though EVERYBODY is acting like a teenager when it comes to sleep: mothers and fathers and young children and grandparents as well as teenagers. And that's a very strange feeling.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Saturday July 11
11:21 pm
We went to a village today. One of the American students' host families has extended family who live in a village an hour outside Cairo and we were all invited for the day. We went all together in two buses - students and host siblings and exchange program volunteers.
The volunteers are really fun to be with. Most of them are only a couple years or so older than us students, and they know English very well which makes it easy to interact with them. The guys especially love to joke around and of course to dance. On my bus today they got the driver to turn up the music and then stood up in the bus singing in Arabic and dancing for a good hour or so. It was a lot of fun.
The village was similar in a lot of was to a large West African village, except with 2 major differences: most of the buildings here were cement, and all the women wore galabeyas--a traditional long-sleeved ankle-length dress--and headscarves. We ate a traditional village meal called 'ftir' and drank tea and sat under trees talking. I got to hold a baby for a long time, until he tripped and started crying; then his sister came and took him. It was nice to have some down time from the usual routine of going to class and being with family the rest of the day. I had some good conversations and some much-needed time to myself.
11:21 pm
We went to a village today. One of the American students' host families has extended family who live in a village an hour outside Cairo and we were all invited for the day. We went all together in two buses - students and host siblings and exchange program volunteers.
The volunteers are really fun to be with. Most of them are only a couple years or so older than us students, and they know English very well which makes it easy to interact with them. The guys especially love to joke around and of course to dance. On my bus today they got the driver to turn up the music and then stood up in the bus singing in Arabic and dancing for a good hour or so. It was a lot of fun.
The village was similar in a lot of was to a large West African village, except with 2 major differences: most of the buildings here were cement, and all the women wore galabeyas--a traditional long-sleeved ankle-length dress--and headscarves. We ate a traditional village meal called 'ftir' and drank tea and sat under trees talking. I got to hold a baby for a long time, until he tripped and started crying; then his sister came and took him. It was nice to have some down time from the usual routine of going to class and being with family the rest of the day. I had some good conversations and some much-needed time to myself.
Friday July 10
7:56 am
I'm up early because Baba and Mama are taking me to a church this morning. [I decided to not bring up the issue, and they initiated asking me if I would like to go to a church 'to pray'. It was interesting thinking of the whole experience of going to church as 'going to pray' but I think that can be a very valid way to talk about it.] Different Christian groups worship together on different days here - Friday or Saturday (which are the weekend) or Sunday--but my family here has neighbros who are Christians and they go to church on Friday. So my family's taking me today, a Friday. They asked me what kind of Christian I am--Coptic, or Catholic, or Protestant--so they'd know what kind of church to take me to, but I answered 'none of those, just Christian' so they're just taking me to the church they know of nearby.
I feel really distant from Jesus here. I don't know, it's like without the external influences in my life like youth group and church is my faith really real? Do I believe Jesus is really real? I know in my head what I believe, but I'm finding it difficult to see evidence in my heart.
12:49 midnight
Mama and Baba took me to a Coptic Orthodox Cathedral + church that they knew about. We spend the morning there. at first I felt really uncomfortable. The people we met took us across the road to what they called the 'church' which was basically a shrine to an appearance of the Virgin Mary. It wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either. People were crossing themselves and lighting candles and sitting in pews reading liturgy books.
I decided to just sit in a quiet place over by a window to pray. The two ladies who showed us to the church and Baba and Mama waited across the room on another pew bench, talking quietly while I prayed.
It was such a special time! Almost immediately upon sitting down I began to cry--all the pent-up stress of a new culture and language and spiritual environment being released. I began to feel all the negative feelings that I hadn't been able to stop and let myself deal with over the past couple weeks. Jesus really spoke with me, and helped me with some forgiveness issues I needed to resolve regarding the other American students, and gave me songs to sing. After a very short bit I didn't know anymore what to pray, so I started reading aloud from the Pslams' already-written prayers. I was amazed at how often 'sing to the LORD' came up in my reading, and began to realize that Jesus was already giving me an answer to my prayer for comfort and faith: singing! So I sang some songs and listened to Jesus. Oh and also the psalms verses about 'my enemy' and 'enemies' stood out, and reminded me vividly that I really am at the center of a battle Satan is waging over me. So I asked God for protection. Then I was ready to leave. That time was so great; I'm so glad God worked it out for me to have that time with him.
This evening was the Galabeya party for American students and their host families. We brought Egyptian food potluck-style and then afterward there was visiting time and dancing for those who wanted to. It's so fun to watch the Egyptian guys dance together--because you'd never see anything like it in the US! Most of the American guys in our group still can't quite bring themselves to join in, though some have tried it a bit.
I don't really know what to think of this Eastern-style dancing. It seems, from my Western frame of reference, to be completely sexual through and through. But the Egyptians don't seem to view it that way. My host mother, who is quite conservative, was urging me to join in the dancing with Yasmin and the other students. Guys dance the same way with the other guys in the circle as they do with the girls, and girls dance with girls too. On the other hand, my sister Marwa didn't dance and when I asked her why she said it's because of the boys being there. When we got home she put on some music and danced for me and the rest of our family.
7:56 am
I'm up early because Baba and Mama are taking me to a church this morning. [I decided to not bring up the issue, and they initiated asking me if I would like to go to a church 'to pray'. It was interesting thinking of the whole experience of going to church as 'going to pray' but I think that can be a very valid way to talk about it.] Different Christian groups worship together on different days here - Friday or Saturday (which are the weekend) or Sunday--but my family here has neighbros who are Christians and they go to church on Friday. So my family's taking me today, a Friday. They asked me what kind of Christian I am--Coptic, or Catholic, or Protestant--so they'd know what kind of church to take me to, but I answered 'none of those, just Christian' so they're just taking me to the church they know of nearby.
I feel really distant from Jesus here. I don't know, it's like without the external influences in my life like youth group and church is my faith really real? Do I believe Jesus is really real? I know in my head what I believe, but I'm finding it difficult to see evidence in my heart.
12:49 midnight
Mama and Baba took me to a Coptic Orthodox Cathedral + church that they knew about. We spend the morning there. at first I felt really uncomfortable. The people we met took us across the road to what they called the 'church' which was basically a shrine to an appearance of the Virgin Mary. It wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either. People were crossing themselves and lighting candles and sitting in pews reading liturgy books.
I decided to just sit in a quiet place over by a window to pray. The two ladies who showed us to the church and Baba and Mama waited across the room on another pew bench, talking quietly while I prayed.
It was such a special time! Almost immediately upon sitting down I began to cry--all the pent-up stress of a new culture and language and spiritual environment being released. I began to feel all the negative feelings that I hadn't been able to stop and let myself deal with over the past couple weeks. Jesus really spoke with me, and helped me with some forgiveness issues I needed to resolve regarding the other American students, and gave me songs to sing. After a very short bit I didn't know anymore what to pray, so I started reading aloud from the Pslams' already-written prayers. I was amazed at how often 'sing to the LORD' came up in my reading, and began to realize that Jesus was already giving me an answer to my prayer for comfort and faith: singing! So I sang some songs and listened to Jesus. Oh and also the psalms verses about 'my enemy' and 'enemies' stood out, and reminded me vividly that I really am at the center of a battle Satan is waging over me. So I asked God for protection. Then I was ready to leave. That time was so great; I'm so glad God worked it out for me to have that time with him.
This evening was the Galabeya party for American students and their host families. We brought Egyptian food potluck-style and then afterward there was visiting time and dancing for those who wanted to. It's so fun to watch the Egyptian guys dance together--because you'd never see anything like it in the US! Most of the American guys in our group still can't quite bring themselves to join in, though some have tried it a bit.
I don't really know what to think of this Eastern-style dancing. It seems, from my Western frame of reference, to be completely sexual through and through. But the Egyptians don't seem to view it that way. My host mother, who is quite conservative, was urging me to join in the dancing with Yasmin and the other students. Guys dance the same way with the other guys in the circle as they do with the girls, and girls dance with girls too. On the other hand, my sister Marwa didn't dance and when I asked her why she said it's because of the boys being there. When we got home she put on some music and danced for me and the rest of our family.
Monday July 6
9:03 pm
Today after Arabic class Yasmin took me to the biggest mall in Cairo. I had a lot of fun. We couldn't stay out late at all--we had to be home by 7:30 pm--but we had from 2:00 to 6:00 in the mall, which is still a good four hours. I was amazed at all the American chains I saw there including Ralph Lauren, Rainforest Cafe, Chili's, Beano's, Hardee's, McDonald's, Burger King, and Pizza Hut. (There were more than just food places, but those are the ones I remember the names of!)
At the mall I treated Yasmin to a milkshake at McDonalds, which cost the equivalent of $1 each for two regular-size milkshakes. Americans really are rich to be willing to pay so much more than that in the States for the same exact product!
Arabic lessons are progressing satisfactorily. I really like the teachers. (There are two teachers. One for two hours in the morning and then the other for two hours in the afternoon.) It's annoying when a couple of people don't do their homework and slow down the rest of the class, but I'm learning quite a lot.
Today we learned how to do possessive pronouns--how to say, for example, 'my bag', 'your bag', 'his bag', 'our bag', etc. Where English uses just one pronoun, 'your' for all types of second person possession, Arabic has three: your-masculine singular; your-feminine singular; and your-plural. This way actually makes a lot of sense if you think about it. It follows the pattern of third person possession which exists even in English: the distinction between 'his', 'hers', and 'theirs'.
9:03 pm
Today after Arabic class Yasmin took me to the biggest mall in Cairo. I had a lot of fun. We couldn't stay out late at all--we had to be home by 7:30 pm--but we had from 2:00 to 6:00 in the mall, which is still a good four hours. I was amazed at all the American chains I saw there including Ralph Lauren, Rainforest Cafe, Chili's, Beano's, Hardee's, McDonald's, Burger King, and Pizza Hut. (There were more than just food places, but those are the ones I remember the names of!)
At the mall I treated Yasmin to a milkshake at McDonalds, which cost the equivalent of $1 each for two regular-size milkshakes. Americans really are rich to be willing to pay so much more than that in the States for the same exact product!
Arabic lessons are progressing satisfactorily. I really like the teachers. (There are two teachers. One for two hours in the morning and then the other for two hours in the afternoon.) It's annoying when a couple of people don't do their homework and slow down the rest of the class, but I'm learning quite a lot.
Today we learned how to do possessive pronouns--how to say, for example, 'my bag', 'your bag', 'his bag', 'our bag', etc. Where English uses just one pronoun, 'your' for all types of second person possession, Arabic has three: your-masculine singular; your-feminine singular; and your-plural. This way actually makes a lot of sense if you think about it. It follows the pattern of third person possession which exists even in English: the distinction between 'his', 'hers', and 'theirs'.
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