Bagazdering bil 3arabi

Lately a couple friends and I have had some hilarity over our bad Arabic.

While ‘camping’ in Gilead with some other foreigners, I told the friend organizing our group that our toilet was leaking and I needed a ‘shatta’ to clean up. Some words just don’t translate in English, ya know? I don’t use a floor squeegee in the US.

My friend, who speaks a Bedouin dialect, looked at me funny and said: “Why would you need hot sauce for the bathroom?” (I can only wonder what she thought we used hot sauce for in the bathroom!)

I said: “Oh, did I say it wrong? Not ‘shatta’ Tabasco, but ‘UUH-shatta’, so dry the floor tiles”.

She said: “Oh you Fafi West Ammani girl, you mean GAshat!” . We broke into laughter, turning to tears.

*

Same friend and I were watching our daughters ride horses (we were at the Arab Riding Center/Jordanian Riding Club shuismo).  One little girl was on a dwarf pony, very cute, I think our dog was bigger than this horse. She asked the trainer what the name of the horse was. “Bony” was his answer. “Bony?” she said to me, incredulous, “That thing is a butterball fatling”.

To him she asked: “3anjad ismo ‘Bony’? Huwwi nas7ah kteer, ‘Bony’, mynato na7eef”.

He, looking offended: “Huwwa Bony BONY BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOONY”. Mish ismo, ma fee ism. Baby hisaan”

LOL, we get it, it isn’t a horse, it’s a PONY. The B/P thing! We about rolled in the sawdust while he rolled his eyes heavenward asking God how much longer these strange women will mess up his day.

* Sometimes I use words that I don’t know EXACTLY what they mean, I’ve heard them used and osmose them into the correct context. With several circles of friends, this can be dangerous: hang out with young people who swear alot, you don’t use that vocab with church friends.

My pastor was telling me about a woman who had a 20k tumor removed, not knowing she even had a problem. My frist thought was “Ya hebleh!”. I don’t know what it means, but it seemed to fit. His eyes got wide: “You know the word ‘hebleh?”.  “Well, not really, it just seemed the right response”, I said embarassed, hoping there wasn’t some crass reproductive/digestion connotation. He threw his head back: “Inti 3anjad Urdaniyya, ya Kinzi”.

*

I ran into an old neighbor from Hashmi Shemali, one of those who immigrated to Daahiyet Al Rasheed. We kissed and hugged and talked over each other, caught up on news, I tried to keep my grammar errors to a minimum. After that many years I knew she would except some expotential growth in my linguistic abilities.

She said: “Tab, ya habeebeti, i7ki ma3i mnishrab shai. Ba’ uzder”

I said: “Shu habeebti, ‘baUZder? Moo am bit GGGGGAAAZZderi?

She laughing: “Inti lissa i7ki bitGAZder?”

Me: “Shu had, ya binit Ajlouniyya, ya gelbi, inti 3allumtiini ba GAAAAZZ der, inti surti il Fafy Girl, wayn GAtik halla? Diiyatiiha 3ala il autostrade bayn Hashmi oo Daahiyet Al Rasheed?”

We laughed til our mascara ran down our faces.

Jordan really is a fun place to live.

*Forgot to translate for Sister Sal, who will send me an email if I don’t let her in on the fun. This is a hard one, help me out if I don’t even know it myself. “Fafy” is a term for like, prissy, spoiled. In Arabic, the letter “Q” is the formal pronounciation, but some formerly Bedouin-based families use a “G” sound instead. As West Amman became more Western, some folks dropped the consonant sound all together and do a little glottal stop that makes it sound like “Uh”, as in ‘Uh huh”.  It sounds a little, uh, ‘affectatious’, if that is even a word.

Some Arabic speakers have a hard time differentiating between B & P (we fer’ners sound just as bad with 3ayn & Ghayn). So the fat little pony was not named “Bony”, he was trying to tell us it is a pony, not a horse, and has no name.

My friend said “Great, sweetie, lets get together and drink tea. I’m on my way”. It’s the G/Uh thing again, this gal is from Ajloun, an area they use ‘G’ all the time. She taught me to ‘G’ and used to love watching people when I came off with this heavy Bedouin sound. So, I am teasing her saying “What is with you, you wonderful daughter of the country, you who taught me the correct manner of pronunciation, and now you sound like a prissy West Ammani girl? Where is your ‘G’? Did you leave it on the road between Hashmi and your new neighborhood??”

Advertisement