Chasing the Language

My first evening in Syria, I was taken grocery shopping by Lianne, the generous, knowledgeable host with whom I am living for the next month. I was not expecting to do any of the talking on this little adventure, but I when I was addressed by one of the grocers we encountered, I discovered that I had no way to respond. I did not even have the vocabulary to say no. What a bizarre experience to be unable to communicate in any way!

In the weeks and days leading up to my trip, I had considered trying to listen to some learn-to-speak-Arabic podcasts but simply could not find the time. When I was getting my passport stamped by Syrian immigration officials, four of the eight individuals with whom I spoke knew enough English to guide me through the process, but my experience in the grocery store indicated that I would not be so lucky all the time. While few of the foreign teachers at the school can speak fluent Arabic, it seems that almost all know enough key words to get around on a taxi, but groceries, and find their way through an evening out on the town. I spent a little time expanding my own vocabulary beyond Marhaba! (Hi!) While I have yet to test out my newly-learned words, I feel relatively comfortable saying la (no), na'am (yes) – at this point I am pulling out my little cheat sheet to see what other words I "know" – ana bah-ki inglizi (I speak English), ma bif-ham (I don't understand), and addaish (how much?). I am also pretty confident that I can identify the Arabic characters for zero though nine. I guess we will see how that goes when I next go shopping.

It seems that Syrians are very appreciative and patient with foreigners that are trying to speak their language. Are we so tolerant of non-English speakers in Canada? Store owners and security guards have bid me farewell in my own language, but I doubt that many cashiers even in Ottawa would make the effort to say au revoir to a francophone leaving their store.

Imagine how difficult normal activities at work, at school, and on the street would be if you were carrying them out in a language for which you knew only a few words. If a person was visibly annoyed or upset with you because of your inability to communicate articulately, how would you feel about improving your language skills after that conversation? What if that person patiently supported you as you struggled through the five words you knew and gave you a friendly salutation as you left?

I doubt that I will learn much more Arabic than what I need to get me through the next few weeks, but I feel very lucky that I am compelled to speak Arabic to carry out regular activities like buying groceries, ordering a falafel, or bargaining in the market. (Okay, well that last one isn't so regular) I hope this experience continues to increase the empathy that I will have for non-English speakers when I return to Canada.