al-grad student

All the news from here is that I survived my first week of intensive Arabic! There are 28 letters in the alphabet (none of which are vowels, exactly, by the way) and I have 25 of them learned. Normally, classes spend two months doing the alphabet, and we'll be done with it by Monday, which is a little bit crazy. I just don't know how much I can force into my head at once--there isn't that much available space, if you take into account random facts about 90's British TV or General Hospital plotlines or Renaissance art nuggets of knowledge. Trying to learn an alphabet is a weird sensation, too. I mean, I did it once, and I've added in tildes and umlauts and such throughout the years, but nothing this in-depth or immediate.

So, since Monday, I've had class for four hours each morning, then homework until 5ish, then dinner, then homework, then phone time and/or walks/drinks with friends for my sanity. I've been doing NOTHING intellectual for the past month (I don't think the jumble counts..) so it's been hard to get back into the game--plus homesickness, general laziness, etc. All in all though, I'm excited. My classmates are a nice bunch, and I actually like the professor a lot. It's a different mix, since about half of the class is ROTC-affiliated or Army-bound, so that's eye opening. Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about the US industrial-military complex (and if not, well, you can guess), but it's been cool hearing about what my classmates want to do in Somalia or with linguistics or the CIA.

A few days ago we were learning how to say, "I like, do you like, he/she likes," and my professor was asking us questions. He asked me if I liked to read (hibti kitab'a? something like that) and I said yes, "na'am," and he asked if I liked to write (hibti qira'a) and I said "na'am" and he said, "al-grad student?" and I said "yep." (I forgot to "na'am.") He asked the guy next to me, who was nursing a large mug of coffee, if he was "al-grad student," and he was, too. You can usually pick us out, for sure, from our excessive notetaking to caffeine consumption. They both were totally offended because my professor (who is a phd student) was talking about how much he loved coffee ("ah heb" coffee, I can't remember the transliteration for coffee and I can't be bothered to look it up) and he asked if I liked coffee, and I said "laa." (no.) He looked at me in confusion--"laa?" "Laa. No really. Ah heb shayyi (tea)."

Those are about the extent of my sentences, and it would take me awhile to write them. It's odd--even though I'm learning the alphabet and can sound out words, they still don't MEAN anything. So I can decipher what still looks like symbols--and not letters--and realize the word sounds like "dthob" or "ashwuala," but that I still don't know what it is. And, the sounds are so guttural that I always feel faintly ridiculous practicing them, even alone in my apartment. I caught myself at the library yesterday, touching my throat and trying to drop my tongue back to try and produce a "ghoch" sound, which sounded like I was gagging. Fortunately, no one witnessed that (I hope!!).

What is cool is that I have been writing words now and recognizing some of them. "Baab" is a door (we talked about them a lot regarding Medieval Cairo architecture) and is one of the first words you can write, since alif (A, sort of ) and baa (B) are the two first letters you learn. Another fairly easy word is "hijab" which we all know. So that's exciting.

My main motivation for sticking with this is that even if I never end up being able to read anything in Arabic (which seems unlikely, as I already can), it is a nifty thing to be able to write in it. I like how it sounds (not as much as Italian though!), and I LOVE how it looks. And, at the end of the nine weeks we get to go to a mosque for a service and follow along in the Qur'an, which I would love to do.

Oh, and I picked my Arabic name--Khadijah. I need to practice the "kh" sound, so that is helpful, but mostly Khadijah is just awesome. She was Muhammad's first wife, and by all accounts was strong and independent. She was a merchant in her own right, she was 25 years his senior, and she proposed to him! He treated her as a confidant and was devastated when she died. Cool lady and a cool name.

So, I'm bruised, but still standing. I just had a delightful dinner (pasta with tuna, escarole and olives, caprese salad, ice cream with blueberries, and dry pear wine) with friends and am going to an art and food fair tomorrow, if the weather holds. But right now, I'm going to bed and it is gently raining out and I'm very excited about all these things! Goodnight, or masaa' al-khayr! (you'd respond masaa' an-nuur, FYI.)