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5 Arabic Words That Have No English Equivalent 

By Lena Kassicieh

Barakabits

Arabic is a wonderfully expressive, visual language. Many terms used throughout the Arab world would not make much sense out of context, or if translated into another language. Oftentimes, colloquialisms or even idioms are the hardest part of a language for a foreigner to understand, as they are so deeply rooted in the culture. Arabs, a traditionally desert people, have several words that describe particular kinds of desert winds, something very unique to the language, just like Eskimos in Alaska have several words to describe different types of snow and ice.

 1) Na’eeman (نعيماً)

-A term used after someone gets a clean shave, a haircut or takes a shower. It’s kind of like blessing them and saying “Congrats on looking cleaner/fresher” and there is certainly no way of saying it in English. Oftentimes, after a man gets a fresh shave or hair cut, his pals will slap the back of his neck saying this term. The response is “Allah yena’am ‘alek”.

2) ‘Ala Rasi (على راسي)

-Literally translated into “On my head”, this is a saying commonly used when someone asks you for something or demands something. If a friend says “I need you to give me a ride later today,” the response could be “‘Ala Rasi”, kind of like saying “Anything for you”.

3) Kol Sana Wa Enta Salem/Enti Salmeh (كل سنة ونت سالم)

-A phrase said to someone on their birthday or on religious holidays like Easter, Ramadan and Eid, it translates to something akin to “With each year you’re safe/peaceful”. Of course in English there is nothing similar to this, but in Arabic it can be more common than saying Happy Birthday or Ramadan Kareem.

4) To’oborni (تقبرني)

-Used quite often in Lebanon, this term literally translates to “You bury me”, but means more like I love you so much I would rather die and you bury me before losing you. Again, probably not something you’d commonly say in English, but this term is used quite often from mothers to their children or to a friend or person you really adore. Though it sounds cryptic when translated, it’s used in a loving and upbeat way.

5) Wafaret/Wafarti (وفرت)

-Though this is an older term that is not commonly used these days, I recall many times my grandmother would say this word to me as she offered me food and I refused it. It translates to something like, “Fine, you don’t want it? That’s more for me, and it saves me the trouble anyway”. I used to laugh when she would say it to us before understanding it probably wasn’t meant sarcastically by any means.

Source: www.barakabits.com

PBS to Air Documentary About Morocco on July 10

Moroccan World News

 

A multi-part documentary where three musical friends travel 10 Moroccan cities in 15 days exploring the country”s historical musical influences will air on PBS’ KLRU on Sunday July 10.

For the first part of the documentary, Noumaine Lahlou, a Moroccan superstar singer, songwriter and producer; Hassan Hakmoun, a master Gnawa musician; and Laurent Le Gall, a film director and producer, travel from Casablanca to Tangier and then to Chefchaouen exploring Morocco”s traditions with music.

”The history of Morocco”s music continues to weave thread into the fabric of today”s melodies,” it says.

The team will meet several Moroccan artistic personalities including Noumane Lahlou himself, award-winning musician Abdelouhab Doukkali, singer kaouTar Berani, and rap artist Don Bigg.

Each reveals their personal influences for the music they produce, ranging from its emotional strength, Amazigh influences, themes in education and even historic musical scales.

The documentary is part of a travel and music television series, Music Voyager, that ”explores the most musically exciting cities in the world,” according to the Tantra film company”s website who produced the series.

Source: www.menafn.com

Politicization of Learning Arabic

By Anna Ellison

Chicago Monitor

When people find out that I am an Arabic major, the conversation quickly dips into possible career tracks in the FBI, the CIA, and the Foreign Service. I did not start my degree with the intention of working for the government or involving myself in politics. Three years later, I still hold this to be true. But when I reflect on my interactions with people and my own experiences as an Arabic student in higher education, I feel that my language experience has been highly politicized.

So then why do I feel constantly corralled into working in politics or with the US government? Why don’t those who study French or Spanish receive the same line of questioning? The short and easy answer is because the relationship between the US and most Arabic-speaking countries is highly political.

My experience learning Arabic has been a beautiful, yet highly politicized one.

The vocabulary found in the first chapter of Al-Kitaab, one of the most widely used Arabic textbooks; the terms “Palestinian” and “The United Nations” are nestled amongst the verbs to “study” and to “work.” In the second chapter , we encounter the words for “army,” “officer,” “international relations,” and “religion.” Chapter three includes how to say “The Rightly-Guided Caliphs” among other vocabulary words. If I had to guess, no Italian, French, or Spanish textbooks would consider it appropriate to confront students with the word “The United Nations” in the first lesson. While “Palestinian” is not an outwardly political term, it does feel that way considering the chapter does not cover how to say Jordanian, Lebanese, or Algerian.

I do not think that learning these words early on is a bad thing , but it is unusual because other languages are not taught this way. Show me a textbook in which such politically charged terms are introduced so early on. If Jane Doe decides Arabic is too difficult after the first semester, at least she can still discuss military strategy and international intervention policies. Contrastingly, Jon Doe who dropped French after a semester can only discuss what he wants to do over the weekend.

I was not made aware of the political undertones of my textbooks and my experience with the Arabic language until I was studying abroad in Amman, Jordan. My host mother often put on a news channel that displayed what appeared to be a newspaper page with several articles. Every few moments the page would “flip” and show a new grouping of articles. Considering the political climate surrounding Jordan at the time (Fall, 2015) it is unsurprising that the majority of the news stories were politically related. And the fantastic thing was that I could understand a fair amount of what the articles were saying. Moments later, when my host sister would make a joke in Arabic and I would awkwardly laugh just because I didn’t want to be left out of a joke, she would nod at me to say “you understood that?” To which I would admit that I had no idea what they were talking about. More often than not it was not a political joke. It was just small talk. But it was lost on me.

Several months into my time in Amman, a fellow Arabic major from my university was telling me about the course she was taking called “Arabic in the Media.” She told me she was learning a lot of  vocabulary such as “suicide belt” and “bomb.”  I distinctly remember how useful those words must be. But why? I found myself interested in seeking out vocabulary that would elevate my language when discussing politics or foreign affairs, but would do little to help me connect with the members of my host family. I was becoming increasingly comfortable interacting with the Jordanian media, but increasingly nervous about interacting with Jordanians themselves.

This was not a total loss, however, because if you have been to Jordan, you will know that Jordanians love to talk politics. And so that’s precisely what I did. In taxis I would announce that I was indeed from America (it was usually the topic of discussion) and wait to see if the taxi driver was in the mood to discuss American intervention into the Middle East. One of the reasons I loved these discussions was because Jordanians never saw me as my government. I was never an object of their anger or hurt or betrayal. And so that’s how I interacted with Jordanians. It was rarely through conversations about my favorite Jordanian dishes or where I had travelled, but rather about the war in Syria or how Donald Trump could never possibly become president.

But reflecting upon my time in Jordan, I truly regret not pushing myself. I regret staying in what, at that moment in time, felt like a comfort zone. I could discuss food, religion, and politics. And that’s mostly what I discussed for four months. But I found that these discussions left me on the outskirts of Jordanian culture.

The politicization of Arabic in higher education is not surprising considering the political atmosphere of the times. The vast majority of people who are enrolled in Arabic courses intend to pursue a career in politics. This is evident in the sharp spike in enrollment in Arabic courses following the 9/11 attacks. A report done by the Modern Language Association found that American student enrollment in Arabic language courses grew by 126.5% from 2002 to 2006. Chances are, the spike in students studying Arabic was not caused because there was a sudden interest in the study of Arab culture.

As I am writing this I can’t help but feel hypocritical because the chances of me using Arabic in political settings or with political motives in the future is not unlikely. But, at the same time, my intention in writing this article is not to condemn the politicization of the language but rather ask: What are we losing in doing so?

Arabic is a rich language that allows those who learn the language to communicate with people in the Arabic-speaking world. But if the only motive for learning the language is to go into politics, I believe that is a disservice to ourselves and a disservice to the Arab world.

More than all of the political debates I immersed myself in, more than the news blurbs I was able to read, what I miss most about speaking Arabic in Jordan is the small yet beautiful details of the language. I miss greeting my program managers with a common phrase that roughly translates to “morning of roses” and receiving in response a hope for a “morning of light”.

Source: chicagomonitor.com

How One Designer Is Using the Caftan to Bridge Morocco With the West

by LIANA SATENSTEIN

VOGUE

Bakchic’s Instagram is basically an ongoing advertisement for all of what Morocco has to offer. It’s a rich feed, full of shots that include plump fresh figs and sequined babouches, Zellige enameled tiles, or a shot of designer Sofia El Arabi posing in front of a whitewashed wall in a bright red fez hat and an armful of silver Berber cuffs. El Arabi embraces all things Morocco, as does her label which includes everything from riffs on traditional caftans to more contemporary pieces like simple tees.

From the looks of El Arabi’s output, both physical and on social media, it would seem that the designer has spent her life dedicated to Moroccan culture, but the idea to create Bakchic stemmed instead from a lack of exposure to her surroundings. El Arabi grew up in a family that she considers “Western oriented,” and spoke French and English while living in Morocco, as well as attending a French-speaking high school. It was only when she returned to Morocco after studying in France that she discovered what her country had to offer. “This period of my life was really about trying to discover Morocco,” she says. “My own identity has been divided between something Eastern and Western so I tried to find a way between these two worlds.” That way came from clothing, and El Arabi soon began making custom caftans for her family. Soon after, El Arabi quit her job at a French television station and launched Bakchic in 2012.

Though El Arabi has amassed more than 35,000 followers on her Instagram, fans of her brand tend to be abroad, rather than in the cosmopolitan areas of Morocco, where general style tends toward a more Western aesthetic. She has found it difficult to tap into the local market. “The problem in Morocco, is that people are not totally proud of this cultural wealth that we have, because no one before really took it seriously,” says El Arabi, “This is a challenge of making Arab style cool again. People are more attracted to the universal culture, which is Western. Universal culture is easier to access. It’s a style that people understand so you don’t really take a risk wearing different clothes.” Of course, there are also the political connotations. “I really wanted to show the world that being Arab doesn’t mean being violent, or all of these cliches that you can watch on TV,” says El Arabi. “Even if you may think that clothing is not as serious, or [cannot] solve the political problems that the world is going through, I think it is cool to communicate a certain identity and vision of the Arabs.” And to that end, El Arabi wears her caftans with Adidas track pants, or blue jeans. “The most important thing to remember is to stay simple because these pieces are full of embroideries,” says El Arabi. “The thing is to wear a pair of jeans for example, or a simple T-shirt, and then to add something Moroccan with embroideries. It’s staying simple on the Western side of your outfit.” The other part? Wearing your culture proudly on your sleeve.

Source: www.vogue.com

Simon Baz, Our New Favorite Superhero

BY: Clara Ana Ruplinger/Contributing Writer Simon Baz, the latest member of the Green Lantern Corps, is Arab America’s new favorite superhero. Simon Baz is an Arab American Muslim superhero. Not a villain, not a terrorist, not a stereotyped extra. He has his own comic, his own platform, and a full-fledged story. Also, he has the … Continued

‘Ya hmar’ and 9 other animal insults Arabs use

LEYAL KHALIFE StepFeed Arabs love unleashing their creativity when it comes to anything verbal. Whether it’s going over the top to praise someone or way too far in insulting others, we just have a way of delivering the message in the shortest and simplest way possible. For some reason when insulting one another, we love … Continued

Writer explores Arab culture through food

By Donna Olmstead 

Albuquerque Journal

 

Food and language were writer Zora O’Neill’s tickets to the Arab world.

O’Neill, who first studied Arabic in college in the 1990s, decided it was time to put her language skills to the test in a tour through the Middle East and wrote a book about her experiences, “All Strangers Are Kin: Adventures in Arabic and the Arab World,” (June 2016, Houghton Mifflin, $25).

The New Mexico native, who grew up in the East Mountains, will read from her book at 6 p.m. at Bookworks on Rio Grande NW.

“When I first started to think about this book in 2009, I knew I wanted to write about people’s everyday lives to show a side of these places that never makes it into the news. Conveniently, those topics – jobs, boyfriends and girlfriends, what people had for lunch – are just about my skill level in Arabic,” she says. “I absolutely love food and it’s an easy way to connect with people. In any language I always learn the food words first. Although I didn’t focus on food in this book, the subject certainly crept in a lot, as it’s a natural topic of conversation for me.”

O’Neill has written and published more than a dozen books, including the 2009 cookbook, “Forking Fantastic: Put the Party Back in Dinner Party,” a book she wrote with Tamara Reynolds.

She says she chose countries to visit to represent different Arabic dialects and cultures: “People talk about the Arab world as if it is one place, but it’s a quilt of cultures and traditions, sewn together with a (kind of ) common language.”

Because she traveled alone, she also picked countries for personal and practical reasons – Egypt, because she went to graduate school there. The United Arab Emirates because she could not travel alone in Saudi Arabia. She went to Lebanon, because Syria was already getting too dangerous for extended travel and she wanted to see “the new, cool Beirut.”

She says she could eat breakfast all day in Lebanon and Syria. She recalls manousheh, a round, chewy bread, sprinkled with zaatar (oregano-sesame spice), oil and cheese. A dessert, knafeh, crispy semolina and cheese can become breakfast when it’s encased in pita and dolloped with apricot jam. She thinks foodies of the world are ready for labneh, thicker and more sour than the popular Greek yogurt.

She says she’s sorry she couldn’t spend more time in Syria as a casual tourist, because the food culture there is unrivaled. She remembers a 2007 trip. “You could not have imagined a less terrorizing country. A lot of the feeling I got there had to do with the food and the people who prepared it. It is some of the most refined in the Arab world, especially in Aleppo. People are extremely particular about ingredients and preparation and won’t eat food out of season. There are a lot of sweet and sour combinations.”

She especially favors muhammara, an intense red pepper paste, walnuts, pomegranate molasses and hot chile.

“Having some language skills gave me the confidence to take these trips in the first place,” says O’Neill, who now calls Queens, New York, home. “Traveling as a middle-aged, white American woman is one of the more fortunate positions to be in across the globe. In the Middle East, it gave me special perks. I was often welcome in traditional men’s zones, just because I was such a novelty. Because people there rarely do anything solo, I think some people just felt a little sorry for me sometimes and treated me extra well.”

She ended her journey in Morocco because of her parents’ travels there in the 1960s. She credits them and their adventures for her love of Arabic culture. Her name, Zora, honored a Moroccan woman her mother admired for her independence.

“Our house was filled with lots of little things from their trips, including clothing and dishes from Morocco, and a cassette of Arabic music that I listened to over and over when I was really little. All the Morocco stuff sort of primed me to think of Arabic as not that foreign. Just that little exposure to Arab culture as a kid had given me a way in.”

During her five years researching and writing the book, she often found herself invited into the homes of new acquaintances and their extended family, “who invite you in as if you’re an old friend and cook you enough delicious food to put you in a coma. Overall this is a book about everything but politics. I went back to study Arabic again precisely to reconnect with the culture I remembered before. Even if there is some political unrest in a country, daily life goes on. As I learned in Cairo, trouble is extremely localized. Just look at a map and remember that the human ability to maintain normalcy is very strong.”

MUHAMMARA (SYRIAN RED-PEPPER-AND-WALNUT DIP)

This is short work if you have a food processor. Many Syrian cooks would use a mortar and pestle. The average Syrian home cook also uses prepared red pepper paste (Turkish brands are imported to the U.S.; look for those that contain only salt and peppers). It is more convenient than roasting fresh peppers, and more intensely flavored.

Serves 6-8 as an appetizer

2 red bell peppers

1 red jalapeño

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¾ cup shelled walnuts, chopped fine

½ cup fresh bread crumbs

1 clove garlic, coarsely chopped

1 tablespoon pomegranate molasses

1 tablespoon tahini (optional)

Approximately ½ cup cold water

¼ cup olive oil

½ teaspoon ground cumin

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1 teaspoon kosher salt

Dried Turkish or Aleppo pepper flakes (optional)

½ teaspoon sugar (optional)

Juice from 2 lemons

Over an open flame, char the red peppers and the jalapeño. Let rest in a covered container, then slip off charred peel and pull out seeds. Chop coarsely and place in the bowl of a food processor.

To the food processor, add the walnuts, bread crumbs, garlic, pomegranate molasses and tahini. Pulse until only a cohesive paste forms; it does not have to be completely smooth.

In a bowl, combine the paste with cold water, stirring energetically, until the texture is soft but not flowing; the amount of water depends on your bread crumbs. Whisk in the olive oil. Then add the cumin, salt and lemon juice, as well as optional sugar and pepper flakes, tasting as you go. You want a mixture that is sweet, spicy and sour, with richness from the walnuts and tahini.

Ideally, let the mixture sit for at least a couple of hours, for the flavors to combine, and taste again before serving. Drizzle with additional pomegranate molasses and serve with toasted thin pita bread.

MOROCCAN LENTILS

This is a staple in Moroccan restaurants and homes, quick and easy and much more flavorful than the simple preparation suggests. You can add more liquid and serve it as a soup, though the traditional way is as a side dish or appetizer, with nice chewy bread. The flavor improves further with a day of sitting.

2 cups brown lentils, rinsed

1 red pepper, coarsely chopped

1 heaping tablespoon tomato paste

3 teaspoons each cumin and sweet (not hot) paprika

2 teaspoons ground ginger

1 teaspoon turmeric

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

2 teaspoons kosher salt

3 cloves garlic, peeled

1 bunch each parsley and cilantro

1/3 cup olive oil

To a heavy-bottomed pot (or a pressure cooker, as Moroccans use), add the lentils, red pepper, tomato paste and spices.

Chop the garlic and herbs together, very fine, and add this to the pot, followed by the olive oil. Finally, add water until to a depth of roughly one inch above the surface of the lentil mixture – just above the first joint in your finger.

Cover the pot, bring to a boil, then turn to low and simmer until tender, stirring occasionally. This can take an hour or so, depending on the lentils; you may want to add more water. (If using a pressure cooker, prepare as you would other lentil recipes; you may need to add additional spices after cooking.)

– recipes by Zora O’Neill

Source: www.abqjournal.com

Cultural Stereotypes: Arabs and Europeans

New York TImes

To the Editor:

Jochen Bittner makes a number of compelling points in his June 25 Op-Ed essay about Brexit, “Europe’s Angry Old Men,” but he also makes a passing remark that betrays the same type of cultural ignorance and sense of superiority that he laments.

He writes that Europe’s young “cannot lose the West to Mr. Farage” — Nigel Farage, the head of the U.K. Independence Party — “and his ilk, to demagogues who have actually much more in common with the scapegoating culture of the Arab world they so despise than with the enlightened, rational tradition of Europe.”

Mr. Bittner’s monochrome view of entire cultures is both totally mistaken and very unwelcome. Contrary to what he may think, there are millions of young Arabs (including me) who are entirely dedicated to making progress despite huge obstacles. Scapegoating is the least of our worries.

Mr. Bittner also does not seem to appreciate that “Mr. Farage and his ilk” are just as much a part of European culture as the “rational tradition” that he subscribes to.

ZAID AL-ALI

Princeton, N.J.

The writer, a lawyer, is a visiting lecturer and fellow at Princeton.

Source: www.nytimes.com

10 Reasons Why Trump Could Never be an Arab

Trump could never be an Arab because of his ongoing and past behaviors. He could learn a few lessons from us on how to be a little more Arab-like. It might be better for his health, improve his manners, and make him a better person overall. Here’s a list of ten reasons why Trump doesn’t … Continued

Madinat Al-Zahra’: The Jewel Of Moorish Spain

BY: Habeeb Salloum/Contributing Writer            “The city of al-Zahra’ was one of the most splendid, most renowned, and most magnificent structures ever raised by man”. So wrote the great Arab scholar Ibn Khallikan when describing this Moorish dream city built by a king for the woman he loved. In its days … Continued

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