Language Shock

I just recently wrote, but I have decided not to communicate at all in English for the first two weeks of the pledge (and after that only through the blog), so I wanted to get one more post out before signing my sanity over. It’s been a crazy week.

For starters, I’m sure you’ve heard this madness about the American man who made a video stereotyping Arabs and defaming the Prophet Muhammad. In response Syrians killed four US diplomats and Egyptians have been protesting and burning American flags. Yesterday the protests were mainly in Cairo, but there were a few in Alexandria. The program warned us about which areas were unsafe and it was pretty easy to avoid, so I’m not worried, but it’s certainly not a popular time to be American.

Thursday, on the microbus, a couple of men started an aggressive discussion about the film with two of the more fluent students on my program. The student that was primarily arguing back has been here longer and I think was frustrated with the associations and aggression towards Americans, but honestly I see nothing to argue with the Egyptians about on this one. As Hilary Clinton has stated, “this video is disgusting and reprehensible. It appears to have a deeply cynical purpose: to denigrate a great religion and to provoke rage.” Of course that in no way justifies the killing of Americans and President Morsi appropriately reminded Egyptians that the Prophet Muhammad teaches respect for human life.

Later on a taxi ride our driver asked us if we were American and we said that we were Canadian. No one in the car spoke much Arabic and it was late at night, near the protests. It took him a while to understand the concept of Canadian, but eventually he at least accepted that we weren’t American. He then ranted about the film a little and informed us that Americans are too scared to come here right now. I’m excited for a time when I know enough Arabic to explain that, while I am American, I find Nakoula Basseley Nakoula’s film to be appalling. Of course Egyptians know that not all Americans are the same; they are not stupid. But it becomes easy to categorize and it can be necessary to receive confirmation of differentiation directly from the “other.”

On that note, I think my roommate will need to take some time adjusting to the whole religion dynamic. Much to my dismay, it came up within my first hour in the dorms. She asked me about my religion and I tried to explain that I am not really observant. “Not religious” appears to be a concept people here can’t quite grasp. To her insistent pleas that I must have some religion I finally conceded that I am Jewish. After clearing up confusion on the Arabic word for Jew, she told me that she was sad. She is still very nice to me, although honestly I don’t understand enough of what she says or of the culture to entirely read her demeanor.

Upon hearing that I am also a vegetarian she expressed further sadness. Then she asked why my hair is like it is. I tried to explain the idea of dreadlocks, again to no avail and she simply asked if I would take them out soon. When I told her I would have to cut them off she said she said she was (wait for it…) sad and that in Egypt they like smooth hair. She then asked if I would like to borrow her brush. Later she saw some of my facebook pictures and said that my old hair was so much nicer. There are a few Kenyan girls living on the sixth floor of our dorm and I was talking with one of them and joking about how they don’t like my hair here and she said, “Oh yes, they say this is Jew hair.” And so we come full circle.

Of all this craziness though, I have bigger concerns at hand. Tomorrow we all sign a language pledge and from that point on no English is allowed anywhere. This means that even when I absolutely can’t understand what someone is saying to me, no one is allowed to translate and I cannot clarify in English—not in the classroom, in the dorms, or on the streets. So far all we have done is placement tests which, along with not understanding any Egyptian colloquial, confirmed that for at least the first week of the language pledge I will not understand a single thing that anybody says to or around me, let alone be to tell anybody anything.

There are two aspects that make the prospect of immersion especially painful. The first is honestly probably something every American should experience and that is the shame involved in giving up one’s native tongue. Adjusting to a new culture is one thing, but acquiescing your language means never being able to fully express yourself. It means speaking like a child and constantly feeling foolish and judged. It means stuttering and stumbling through simple sentences only to be met with confusion, or worse, scorn. It is incredibly humbling and frustrating and something that few Americans ever really have to do. Even I don’t have to do it. I could say I’m sick of this and pack my bags and go home. Yet immigrants around the world have no escape. Intelligent adults are forced into the role of children and often treated just so. It’s an awful feeling and I have only just experienced the fringes of it. It’s not until Sunday that I will truly feel the indignity of being a twenty-one year old that cannot communicate simple thoughts.

The other issue is far more petty, but has still been difficult to come to terms with. I was expecting that all of the Americans would be at approximately the same level of Arabic going into the program, but oh how wrong I was. Almost everyone in the group has either studied in the Middle East before or been in some other immersion program. There are a few other people who are the same place as me in the Al-Kitaab book, but only two or three people, and I still feel like I’m behind even them. I know that the field will quickly level out and that really comparing never does anyone any good. It’s hard though. It’s salt in my already wounded vanity. It’s that worst-nightmare-coming-true-feeling. I tend to catastrophize and immediately worried that I would be the worst person on the program and lo and behold! I have to say though, I think I have been taking it in stride. I mean what else can I do? But hey, maybe I’ll end up being really popular because I make everyone else feel so good about their Arabic skills.

I know things will get better. I have already learned so much and can almost carry on a conversation with my roommate—when she speaks to me like I’m two years old and deaf. It’s a start. And I’m sure the first few weeks will make me wonder more than I already do why I chose this program, this region, and this language. But I’m also sure there will be some sort of breakthrough at some point.

I sign the pledge in fourteen hours, so if you haven’t any urgent messages, send them on over now! Otherwise, thanks for reading this and thanks for all the support, it’s been really important to me!