Showing posts with label Koran. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Koran. Show all posts

Friday, November 22, 2013

What Happened on the Plane

 
"…'mixing' and 'interaction' happened everywhere during the time of the Prophet (peace be upon him): in the mosque, in the street, in the market, and everywhere.  The idea of segregation of sexes was simply not there…"
 
Tucked into my aisle seat, I watched passengers board.  It was my first time to sit in the center three seat section on a long haul flight.  Away from the cozy hollow near the plane's wall.  Exposed in the middle, without the window's comforting light.  Who would sit beside me this time?
 
first trip to Doha, Dec 2011
Katie, Kimber, me, cozy window row
 
Usually my long haul seatmates are readers, sleepers, armrest sharers.  I've also sat beside the mother with two fidgety babies; the girl who talked for hours in a high pitched screech.  The woman who put up a passive aggressive, across the world battle for the armrest; the smelly man.  There have been spillers, elbowers, climbers, wigglers, talkers, borrowers, snorers, eaters.

I'd never refused to sit beside anyone or had someone refuse to sit by me.  Until now.
 
An acrid scent, a man in the aisle.  He raised his arms to stow his luggage and a heavy body odor smell filled the space.  He glanced at his ticket - and took the middle seat in the row behind me.  I adjusted my air vent.
 
A small man with a long, dark Islamic style beard and white prayer cap appeared in the opposite aisle.  He wore slacks, a vest.  His bone structure, dark skin and hair identified him as Arab.  He glanced at me, stowed his bag and slipped into the aisle seat.
 
"Trim your moustaches & let your beards grow…"
a narration of the Holy Prophet (saww) by Al-Saduq
 
"Sir, your seat is in the middle," said the attendant.  She pointed to the spot next to me.  "You'll need to move."
 
Air jets hummed, engines rumbled.  The plane vibrated, hissed, squealed and clanked.  The man said something I couldn't hear.  The attendant glanced at me, nodded, "but you're in someone else's seat."
 
He stared straight ahead.  After a moment, he slid into the space beside me.
 
Some Muslim men do not want to shake a woman's hand.
-Asian Muslim woman living in Qatar
 
I tugged at the vee in my long sleeved blouse, pulled my jacked closed. My elbow grazed my seatmate's arm.  He didn't flinch.
 
This could be my longest 17-hour flight yet.
 
"A woman should not look at or speak first to a man.  (But it's probably different for you because you're from the West.)"
-Indonesian Muslim woman living in Qatar
 
A young, jeans-wearing Arab man plopped into the empty aisle seat in my row.  My neighbor turned and spoke quietly.  I watched the young man's face as his eyes widened.  He glanced at me, looked away, nodded.
 
My seatmate crossed in front of the young man, motioned him forward.  Animated conversation, gesturing - and the two men disappeared.
 
Who decides the extent to which a woman covers?  She does.
-Qatari Muslim woman
 
A toddler peeked over the headrest in front of me.  A baby cried.  Overhead compartments snapped shut.  Window blinds slid open and closed strobing sun and shade.  The attendant offered me a pre-flight jolly-rancher style hard candy.  I popped the tangy sweet into my mouth.
 
My seat jiggled.  The young, jeans-wearing Arab plopped into the space beside me.  I peeked around him.  A Western attired Asian man now occupied the aisle seat.
 
The young man's name was Sultan.  He was 26, from Saudi Arabia and this was his first trip to America.  He was headed to a 4 month, live-in language program in California to learn English, after which he'd return to Saudi Arabia for college.

We spoke about the difference between the Arabic of the Koran and street Arabic.  And the value of learning a new language.
 
"It is important to know English," he said.  "For business."
 
"At Hajj men and women pray side by side."
-American Muslim woman
 
Over the next 17 hours, Sultan and I were joined at the armrest.  Our shoulders touched.  My shoes shifted into his space.  His pillow landed in mine.  He jolted in his sleep and elbowed me in the head.  I dropped a roll in his lap.  We shared a pen.
 
But when he needed to stand, he climbed into the aisle away from me, even when it meant straddling a sleeping passenger.
 
"…Islam forbids mixing between the sexes that might provide even the remotest possibility of temptation…"
 
I watched 5 full length movies, an entire season of Big Bang Theory and multiple episodes of Modern Family.  I ate two shareable sized bags of M&Ms all by myself and asked the attendant for water so often she brought me a liter sized bottle.
 
Sultan slept.
 
Many meals, snacks, clogged sinuses, sore knees, trips to the bathroom and kitchen later, I helped Sultan complete his landing card.
 
"What should I see in America?" he asked.  "Los Angeles?  Las Vegas?  The beach?"
 
"Yes!" I said.  "And attend a live tv show."
 
"Thank you," he said.  He smiled.  And then -
 
he shook my hand.
 
"Women are revered in this culture."
-American Muslim woman living in Qatar
 

Friday, June 21, 2013

Service Hours for God

You ask for nothing in return.  Yet you sit with me for hours, over coffee and croissants.  Speak with me in Arabic, correct my grammar, feed me vocabulary.
 
 
You're just 17 years old and I'm an "imra' al kebeera" a woman of a certain age - older, even, than your mother.  You're a recent high school graduate, preparing for university.  It's summer and you have friends to see, parties to attend.  You talk on the phone, walk the mall, listen to music.  You know the cafes and shops, carry a leather covered cell phone that rings and rings.
 
young girls get hands "henna-ed" for special events, at parties, "just because"
You won't let me pay you.  For your time, knowledge, help.  Why?
 
You shrug, ask: "What shall I call you?"
 
The question is respectful.  It acknowledges the sanctity of my name and my position (ie, age).  In Middle Eastern culture, names reveal secrets as they outline a family's history.  And, while Middle Eastern women in the same generational bracket refer to one another using first names, some older women prefer youth to use the Kunya (mine is Umm Chris, "mother of Chris," who is my son and first born child).  The question also recognizes the practice in my culture to refer to an older, married woman using her husband's name: "Mrs. Kennaley."
 
I prefer to close the gap:  "Please call me Cindi."
 
You are fashionable in long skirts and blouses with color coordinated head band and hijab.  Your dark eyes are bright with enthusiasm and fun, your smile patient ("try to remember the word, Cindi; I will wait").
 
You are goal driven, motivated, inspired, intelligent, fun, funny, beautiful (ما شاء الله)*.  You speak Arabic and English and a multitude of dialects: Egyptian, Syrian, Gulf, Moroccan and others.  You claim your English wasn't as good two years ago (when you transferred to the American School) as it is now.
 
Your English is very, very good.
 
You want to go into politics in your home country, with an outspoken desire to attain a status never before achieved by a woman there, veiled or otherwise.  "It will be difficult."
 
You nod, "Maybe I begin with a position in the ministry."
 
You speak eloquently about the problems facing your country (not Qatar): poverty, mismanaged agriculture, poor use of historical sites, corruption.  Your ideas for improvement are mature, thoughtful, reflective, wise.
 
We are serious, silly.  We laugh, joke, tease one another.  "Titkallameen 'araby, speak Arabic," you say, when I lose the words.  "Mooreh, relax," you remind, when I am frustrated.  You are a patient, knowledgeable teacher and it's easy to forget your relative youth.
 
When the check ("al fatoorah") arrives we battle over it - and not in a playful way at all.  "Tafaddali, please accept," I insist.  It's crazy, but we're both near tears.
 
After a pause, I ask again: why do you help?
 
You smile.  "In my religion, one who helps another without return is rewarded in Heaven.  Being good, kind, helpful.  It's expected.  This is Islam."
 
ladies prayer space

 "One who moves to fulfill any need of his brother, and makes effort for it, will find it better than itikaaf [to remain in masjid with the intention of worship] of ten years; and one who performs itikaaf for one day for the pleasure of Allah, he will create a distance of three ditches between him and the hell - and each ditch has a width which lies between East and West, or between the heaven and earth." (islamcan.com)
 
and:
 
"…In Islam, helping others and solving their problems is not only an important virtue, it is also a profound act of worship.  It is a means of righteousness that promotes peace on Earth and allows us to earn Allah's eternal reward in the Hereafter…This hadîth shows us that the greatest form of devotion, the best way to please Allah, is to provide service to humanity…" (islamtoday.net)
 
It's kind of like (in America-speak): service hours for God.  Nice.

Perhaps my desire to learn Arabic is not as critical as building an orphanage in Ethiopia.  This doesn't minimize the value of your aid:  humble service shares faith through action.  This concept exists in Christianity too:  "..in love, serve one another."  (Galatians 5:13)
 
Still.  It can be hard to accept favor from another person, whether it's a family member solicited for financial and occupational counsel or a 17-year old girl giving up a summer morning to tutor a conversation-hungry foreigner.  Part of the gift is allowing the person on the receiving end the dignity of reciprocation, however modest the effort.
 
I unfold the bill.  "Please let me do this small thing."
 
You smile and the room warms like sunrise at the dunes.  "Same time next week?"
 
Yes, please.
 
ahhhhhhhhh

* ma-sha'-Allah: "What God Wills," spoken after a compliment to acknowledge appreciation for God's gifts...as everything comes from God and anything divinely gifted may also be divinely re-acquired.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Street Talk

When I was 15 years old, thanks to my adventurous parents, Indiana Jones and Marian Ravenwood (aka Charles Hedrick and Peggy Hedrick), I lived in Cairo, Egypt - where the language of the street was Egyptian Arabic:
 
Indy, Marian, Kay and Cindi on top of the Great Pyramid, New Year's Day 1975
Minus brother Charles Hedrick, Jr. who slept in that morning (slacker!)
 
I jogged around the sphinx, visited Tut's tomb and sort-of-met Henry Kissinger.
 
sneaking a peek, 1974
 
I attended high school, trolled the bazaar ("Khan al Khalili"), rode trains, shopped markets. Wandered into the desert on horseback to oasis-like Sahara City…where a group of errant teens could prop boots on railings, sip "lamoon" (lemonade) and chat with Bedouins.

Most locals did not speak English. 

Surrounded by the language, I learned to produce Arabic sounds like:
the hissing cat (khal - خ)
the gargle (ein -  ع)
choking-on-a-bone (ghein - غ).
 
Later, I returned to Cairo alone during a college year abroad and my Egyptian Arabic came right back.
 
So, relearning the language in  Doha should be easy, right?
 
Wrong.
 
There are two very distinct categories of Arabic:  "Street" Arabic, which encompasses a multi-bazillion number of dialects.  And Modern Standard Arabic, which is the language of the Koran, education and the foundation for all those multi-bazillion dialects.
 
"Street" Arabic varies from one country/area/neighborhood/family to another and are not written languages. 
 
Modern Standard Arabic is written and read all over the Arab world and among Muslims in every country everywhere…but generally - it is not spoken.
 
from my workbook: doula Qatar (Country of Qatar)
 
In Qatar, locals speak a form of the Gulf ("Khaleeji") dialect - which is very different from Egyptian Arabic. 
 
Arab nationals from Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Emirates, Egypt...along with Muslims from every country in the world live and work in Doha.  All speaking their own form of Arabic.
 
While most do not speak a second dialect, nearly everyone understands MSA.
 
Many Arabs are surprised to hear MSA spoken by a Westerner.  Often…they laugh.  I am told that I have an "Egyptian accent" which somehow makes everything funnier.
 
But when the laughing is done…communication happens.
 
So why learn MSA?  Here are a few reasons:
  • More than 250 million people comprise the Arab world (New World Encyclopedia)
  • Nearly 26% of the world's population, approximately 2 billion people, are Muslim  (Islamic Web)
  • Educated Arabs read, write and understand MSA, regardless of their home dialect
  • Muslims often understand MSA, regardless of their home country or native language
  • Arabic is a beautiful, musical language, thick with nuance
  • Knowledge of MSA is necessary to study the Koran, read Arabic books, street signs, menus and more
  • The best way to understand a culture is through its language
And if you're ever in a Arab country where you don't know the dialect - you might still rent a horse…or camel.
 
Katie and Kimber hanging out in the Qatari desert

Friday, November 30, 2012

Salaam! (When Qataris Say Hello)

… a man asked the prophet (S.A.W.), "what in Islam is the best?" He (S.A.W.) answered, "To feed people and to say salaam to everyone whether you know them or not."
 

Traditional Qatari men greet one another by lightly touching noses twice.
 
Young Qataris say hello to a parent or older relative by kissing the elder's forehead.
 
Everyone (within the same gender) shakes hands.
 
But when Qatari women greet one another, there is grasping, kissing, bouncing, shaking, touching, nodding, smiling and talking.  Lots of talking!
 
It's a gymnastics event performed inside a tornado of words. Here's how it works.
 
While talking ("Sister!  I've missed you! I'm happy to see you! Welcome!"), move toward her.  Grasp her hand.  Pull her close. Bounce right cheek against her right cheek 2-4 times while performing air kiss, smiling and responding appropriately to a series of traditional verbal greetings:
 
Peace be with you
And with you, peace
God welcomes you
And you God welcomes!
What's your news?
Great good news! And you, what's your news?
Great good news! And again your news?
Praise to God! And again how are you?
Fine! I hope you are well?
I'm great! I hope you are well?
 
There are so many potential ways to continue the greeting (transforming gradually into regular conversation) that there's a formal way to end too:
 
Pardon me, sister I'm in a rush
 
To which the other replies:
 
I leave you in God's protection
 
And then:
 
May God keep you in good health
 
Move away from her, stepping slowly backwards, remembering to smile and continue talking.  The greeting isn't over until:
 
May God protect you.
 
There are plenty of other things to know about greeting Qataris (and other Arab nationals).  Formal stuff like 
  • smaller group greets the larger group
  • younger person greets the older person
  • person walking or riding greets the sitting person
  • people on your right are greeted first

And if you enter a room where people are eating, don't disturb the meal by greeting people individually.  Instead say "Peace be to God" loudly (so as to interrupt everyone equally, perhaps).
 
Then there's stuff to know like, when asked, "how are you?" one should respond, "Praise God, I'm great."  Even if you're not.  Because it's better to be thankful for the good than spread the distress of the bad. Or if he/she places a palm to her chest, it means she doesn't want to shake hands. And most importantly, whether in food, hospitality or a simple hello, it's important to give more:
 
"When a courteous greeting is offered to you, meet it with a greeting still more courteous..."
 
This seems like a lot to learn, say and do when you come from a country where the traditional greeting is (exclamation optional):

Hi!
 
And the response:
 
Hi!
 
This short standard may be easy to remember and perform. But the Qatari greeting is just…so much more fun.
group of ladies walking at The Pearl

Friday, October 26, 2012

The Muslim Advantage

Some of my Arabic classmates are fluent native speakers.  Nearly all of the rest are Muslim and read the Koran regularly - in Arabic.
 
Level One group
 
It's like learning the ABC's in a room full of English professors.
 
Here's why we're in the same class:
 
1) The Arabic of the Koran and the Arabic of the street are not the same thing
2) There are roughly 17 billion (might be exaggerating a little) Arabic dialects
3) Dialects are not taught in school; they are learned at home
4) Arabic of the Koran is not taught at home, it's learned at school
4) Non Arabic speaking Muslims can and do read the Koran in Arabic - without knowing or learning the language
 
According to Islamicweb.com (http://www.islamicweb.com/begin/population.htm), there are 1.3 billion Muslims in the world.  That's 1/5th of the globe's population!  In other words, all Muslims are not Arab.  All Muslims do not speak Arabic.  However, as Muslims believe the Koran contains the actual words of Allah (not merely "inspired") most prefer to read the Holy Book in its original language.
 
Similar to the American "whole word approach" - where students learn to read by recognizing words instead of focusing on individual letters and sounds - non-Arabic speakers read the Koran in a sort of look, listen, repeat manner, one section/surah/block at a time.  Afterwards they're told what they read.
 
Many Muslims - non Arabs and young children too! - memorize the entire Koran this way.
 
 
(WATCH THIS AMAZING MOVIE which follows three 10-year olds through a Koran memorization competition: http://www.hbo.com/documentaries/koran-by-heart/index.html)
 
The Arabic of the Koran is called fusHa.  It has form, structure, rhythm, grammar, rules…and vowels. FusHa is a written language while (generally) dialects are spoken and not written.  FusHa is the Arabic utilized in textbooks, movies and news programs. It's not spoken on a day to day basis.  Consider these two responses to "Time for dinner!":
 
FusHa: "Yes, I will attend the family meal, my Mother."
 
Missouri Backlander: "Comin'!"
 
Merchants laugh when attempts are made to negotiate in fusHa.  Street vendors often don't understand.  Everyone else (in Doha, anyway) responds in English.
 
Although fusHa is a language all its own, Arabic speakers/reciters have an advantage over non-Arabic speakers/reciters in Arabic class: their tongue can form the sounds, some of which do not exist in English (or other languages). Native speakers own an often similar vocabulary.  They understand untranslatable words and phrases.  They "feel" the language faster.
 
But when it comes to grammar?  We're equally confused.
 
Random page from my Level Three book