Long story short, I got distracted from my original goal and ended up sitting and chatting--all in Arabic (!!!)--with some dudes I met there. Here's how it happened. Though it's in an area just over the river from Zamalek, the area is a much less gentrified part of Cairo, and I was the only foreigner in the whole area as far as I could tell, yet, surprisingly these Cairenes didn't seem to notice. After walking around trying to get a feel for the prices and the options available there, I was on my second lap ready to buy some things when some Egyptian men sitting in front of a shop to my right said something to me while I passed which surprised me, because they seemed to be the first ones to treat me any differently from regular Egyptians in the market that night. I was pretty sure they had just yelled "welcome to Egypt" (in Arabic), which is a common thing for Egyptians to say to you when you are obviously a foreigner. Sometimes it is genuinely just them being hospitable, and other times it's them trying to lure you in to buy something. Assuming the latter, I was about to ignore them when, for no conscious reason I can remember now, I happened to look back at them. There were three of them, one middle-aged, one who looked to be around my age, and one who looked like he was about 13. The oldest man had been the one to welcome me, but after I gave the proper response (I don't really know the exact translation, it's just what you say in response to the Arabic phrase for welcome) the one my age asked me something in Arabic that I couldn't understand. In the millisecond I spent deciding whether to respond or not, I looked at their faces and judged, based on instinct alone, that they were being sincere and were worth talking to further.
I walked over and had the younger guy repeat his question, which turned out to just be a variation on the standard second question when having conversations with Egyptians. Most times Egyptians will ask foreigners in Arabic, "inta min ayn?"--"where are you from?"--running the three words together into one, as is their way, but in this other variation, they just list off countries until they get the right one, debating eachother all along. Russia was their first guess (I think because of my beard) and then America ("Amreeka"). I told them I was studying Arabic which prompted them to ask how I liked it to which I responded that I really liked the language and from their on out they kindly spoke nothing but Arabic with me.
The older man's name was Aydil, who looked to be about 40, the one close to my age was named Yasser, and the boy was named Mash-hoor (which means "famous"). Yasser's brother, Ahmed, came over after a bit and talked with me for a while too. Our conversation ranged from politics to geography (my limited vocabulary, especially in colloquial, only allows so many topics really). They were pretty pleased when I agreed with their distaste for the feckless Egyptian President Mubarak and his sham of a democracy (albeit a largely benign one), and I also managed to make some jokes that made them laugh, which I felt pretty good about.
Egyptian dialogue, I've noticed, is peppered with jokes and exuberant approval of said jokes, more so than in America, so I've been trying to get a feel for Egyptians' sense of humor. It's tricky and sarcastic in a way, and it comes out in the conversations making Egyptians seem jovial, animated, and irrepressible all time. This also makes Egyptian conversations seem intimate in ways that American conversations are not, making it seem like Egyptians are more comfortable around each other--though when I said something to this extent to Hemeida, my Egyptian friend from Siwa, he vehemently denied it. Nonetheless, relationships here do not seem plagued by the same kind mutual self-consciousness that ones in America sometimes have. It's hard to explain, but it's something to do with the ease with which Egyptian strangers will interact with each other that I think Americans tend to eschew.
Another way this comes out is in the amount that Egyptians touch each other during conversation. Men, just like women, kiss each their friends on the cheek (2 times here, 3 in Saudi Arabis, I'm told) when they meet, and no joke goes without that weird, traditional Egyptian high-five/weak handshake hybrid of approval. Occasionally you see friends just holding hands, not in the ironic way that American friends sometimes do, but in a genuine way. Maybe I wouldn't notice it if it were just girls, but in Egypt you notice that men do not mind touching each other (and it is such an American thing that that sentence should even sound perverted), because when you're friends, it's more like you're brothers here. On the other hand, there are obviously a lot of different restrictions about how men and women can be intimate, and homophobia is definitely still the norm, but these restrictions manifest in different ways so that Egyptians can still be very affectionate and warm with each other without some artificial taboo being violated.
Anyway, besides making jokes and high-fiving, in my conversation with my new friends after we finished talking about Egypt's government and the places I have and have not been in Egypt, we got to the other frequent topic of discussion that regularly comes up with Egyptians: what don't I like about Egypt. Every single Egyptian I have talked to at length (outside of school) has asked me the same question more or less, a phenomenon I find fascinating. Many of them are convinced that Americans have quite bad opinions of both Egypt and its people and they all want to know what things I haven't liked since I got here and what bad things I heard about before coming. I usually say nothing at first and then if they pressure me more I tell them I wish Cairo wasn't so dirty or that the salesmen around Tahrir (a main part of downtown) are pushy and dishonest. I say these things because they are largely inoffensive, undeniably true and also because I wouldn't really know how to say much else. Regardless, I'm not really keeping all that much from them since I really don't have that many other complaints. But why does this keep coming up? Even my language exchange partner at AUC, a highly-educated, very sweet girl from Upper Egypt (which confusingly means southern Egypt) told me flat out that she doesn't believe me when I say not all Americans believe Arabs are all terrorists. Egyptians just seem to be self-conscious about their being a third world country that is decidedly awash in both strong "Western" and "Eastern" cultural aspirations. I didn't ask my friends why they asked, but they seemed to like my answers. I'll have more to say about my bigger Egyptian cultural observations, but I'll leave this for now at this: that was a really fun conversation for me, and not only do I think I made some genuine friends out there I felt like it really helped my Arabic.
Anyway, besides making jokes and high-fiving, in my conversation with my new friends after we finished talking about Egypt's government and the places I have and have not been in Egypt, we got to the other frequent topic of discussion that regularly comes up with Egyptians: what don't I like about Egypt. Every single Egyptian I have talked to at length (outside of school) has asked me the same question more or less, a phenomenon I find fascinating. Many of them are convinced that Americans have quite bad opinions of both Egypt and its people and they all want to know what things I haven't liked since I got here and what bad things I heard about before coming. I usually say nothing at first and then if they pressure me more I tell them I wish Cairo wasn't so dirty or that the salesmen around Tahrir (a main part of downtown) are pushy and dishonest. I say these things because they are largely inoffensive, undeniably true and also because I wouldn't really know how to say much else. Regardless, I'm not really keeping all that much from them since I really don't have that many other complaints. But why does this keep coming up? Even my language exchange partner at AUC, a highly-educated, very sweet girl from Upper Egypt (which confusingly means southern Egypt) told me flat out that she doesn't believe me when I say not all Americans believe Arabs are all terrorists. Egyptians just seem to be self-conscious about their being a third world country that is decidedly awash in both strong "Western" and "Eastern" cultural aspirations. I didn't ask my friends why they asked, but they seemed to like my answers. I'll have more to say about my bigger Egyptian cultural observations, but I'll leave this for now at this: that was a really fun conversation for me, and not only do I think I made some genuine friends out there I felt like it really helped my Arabic.
Their willingness to speak Arabic with me, more than anything, was what made the conversation so productive for me. I know I was mispronouncing all kinds of words (I don't completely suck at Arabic, this just has to do with both the different vocabulary and the maddening way vowels change in Egyptian colloquial from the Modern Standard Arabic I studied before coming here), but my new friends diligently made the effort to understand the words I was saying. What's more they rarely resorted to speaking English. This was in large part because only the younger guy knew any, but whatever the reason, we spoke Arabic basically the whole time, which was GREAT. When a few other Egyptians approached to talk to us during our conversation and tried to speak English, my new friend chided them, saying "he loves Arabic and wants to speak more." Awesome.
This is the sort of thing that has not happened in my entire time in Egypt (outside of my classes, of course). No Egyptian has ever displayed almost any amount of patience for us foreigners limping through their language, and so I cannot properly communicate how exciting it was to make some Egyptian friends who did. In just that one hour, I could feel my colloquial Arabic getting better. My confidence and fluidity with the pronunciation of the Modern Standard Arabic words morphed into Egyptian definitely got noticeably firmer. This is what I came here to do, and I'm thrilled I finally got to do it.
This is the sort of thing that has not happened in my entire time in Egypt (outside of my classes, of course). No Egyptian has ever displayed almost any amount of patience for us foreigners limping through their language, and so I cannot properly communicate how exciting it was to make some Egyptian friends who did. In just that one hour, I could feel my colloquial Arabic getting better. My confidence and fluidity with the pronunciation of the Modern Standard Arabic words morphed into Egyptian definitely got noticeably firmer. This is what I came here to do, and I'm thrilled I finally got to do it.
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P.S. I went back to Wikalat al-Balah again the next night and couldn't find my new friends :( I also had some really strange street food that looked like sausage but was stuffed with spiced rice instead of meat. Kind of good, but a little weird. When I need to buy some more clothes I'll be going back there and so hopefully I'll see my friends again then!
P.P.S. Here's a picture of me and some of my friends on Halloween with the Viking costume I crafted. I found the fur vest and the long white t-shirt/tunic in the market, while I made the sword and helmet from scratch out of duct tape, juice boxes, cardboard and paper. Not the best picture, but the best one of my in my costume.
Kind of a modern adaptation of a Viking, yes, but I was pretty pleased with it all the same, given the limitations of being in a country which mostly doesn't care about this made-up American holiday.
Kind of a modern adaptation of a Viking, yes, but I was pretty pleased with it all the same, given the limitations of being in a country which mostly doesn't care about this made-up American holiday.
That sounds like a fantastic conversation! I'm sure you'll get more opportunities like that.
ReplyDeleteYour observation of the consistent joking and apparent friendliness in contrast with your friends denial of your analysis makes me think of how American conversations among acquaintances would look to a visitor. I feel like we quite often make superficial jokes and laugh when our conversation partner isn't funny; nodding and smiling all along. I also think of business and networking conversations, where our shoulder-patting and bad jokes would seem to be evidence of friendliness to an outsider, when they're often just the result of a facade. I'm not really trying to make a point in either direction, it just made me think.