Sunday
Fatima tells me of how when she was a new FusHa student, her teacher wouldn't let her eat until she could ask to go to lunch in perfectly articulated fully-cased fusHa. After finishing her story she says, as if this kind of discouraging story is what I wanted to hear, "and this is why I hate FusHa also!" Note for instructors: stories commiserating with your students about the impossibility of learning this language are not helpful.
Monday
I am told that I should never, ever speak FusHa on the street. This is distressing, because the only reason I'm studying in Egypt is so I can practice with people on the street. Fatima at least qualifies this by saying "well, with you, people will be happy that you even try to speak any kind of Arabic, but if I speak FusHa, they won't understand me and they will akhhhh..." She draws her fingers across her throat like a knife, rolls her eyes, and falls back into her seat, dead. I resolve not to risk talking to anyone in the street.
Tuesday
"Misr jumhurriya" (Egypt is a republic) Fatima proudly tells me. I want to reply with "but is it really? Don't you think it's interesting that Morocco, which is unapologetically a monarchy, and Egypt, which is supposedly a democratic republic, have both had only three rulers over the last sixty years? Don't you also think it's interesting that just as in Morocco, the only way an Egyptian leader ever leaves office is by dying in it? Even when that finally happens, he's immediately replaced by his handpicked heir. Do you really think this is a true republic?" I translated this as best I could and tell her: "this is the thing: Morocco has king-king and Egypt has president-king. I think this is a thing, you think also?" I will make an excellent diplomat.
Wednesday
Today's lesson includes a selection of news clips from Al Jazeera which describe atrocities committed by the Isreali army in Gaza last year. For better or for worse, this kind of politically charged material doesn't usually make it into language instruction courses in the U.S. From a more practical standpoint, I'm concerned that the vocabulary I'm learning in these exercises might be too specialized for everyday use. If this keeps up, next time I go into a restaurant I'll only be able to say that my occupation force would like a table for two and, if possible, we would like to form our perimeter in the non-smoking section. Rather than ask for the check, I'll have to request "the tragic toll of this encounter." I can see how the word "atrocity" might be useful, but only in relation to fuul, which is the one traditional Egyptian food whose flanking maneuver I cannot support with rocket attacks.
Thursday
Another harrowing news clip, this time ending with the sentence: "Muna, who clings to her dead mother's blood-soaked skirts with the same despair and hopelessness shared by all of her people, can only wait for justice." The screen fades to black. After fifteen seconds or so, Fatima breaks the heavy silence by asking cheerfully: "so, you must like cartoons?" We then watch ten minutes of something called Barbi Arabiyya. I long for some sort of happy medium.
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