This is a short memoir I decided to write relating to the topic of bilingualism and identity which we just covered in class. I chose to talk about one of the interesting moments I had one time while visiting my home country of Egypt where they speak Arabic.
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As the plane landed; touching the hard concrete with stiff bumps and jolts – finally reaching the stable ground, I dreamt of the times I have had here and the great times to come. There was no pace like Egypt, the rich and sophisticated landscapes and high-rise buildings stood side by side with dusty desert dunes and the impoverished slums. Some might not perceive it attractively, but to me it was different, it was my country. I liked to believe that even though I had lived abroad most of my life, I had a strong acquaintance with my home. Finally, I could meet up with old friends and family, eat the food I love and walk through its busy streets.
The weather was a warm embrace compared to the scorching lash that I was familiar with in the UAE. But all of this was forgotten when I heard the voice of an airport official greeting me. The words danced on my eardrums briefly before allowing me to absorb them. The words were so simple but listening to the uniqueness of the Egyptian dialect gave me deep pleasure. Now I was home.
I spoke nothing but Arabic, with my cousins, my friends and with everyone I met, from street vendors to taxi drivers. After a few weeks had gone by, one of my cousins came to visit from Canada. It had been over a year since I last saw her and we immediately struck up a conversation, talking about what’s new in our lives, how it is living where we live and such. Suddenly I realized we had been talking in English, for the first time since being in Egypt I was talking in English. When the rest of my cousins came over to my house we sat down to play a popular card game in Egypt. Everyone spoke Arabic, the game was more of a heated exchange of jokes and laughter than a real game, but nonetheless, it was great.
An hour after midnight my Friends and cousins went back to their homes and the house was drenched in silence. The only person left was my cousin from Canada who sat with me watching TV. She was looking at me in the most peculiar way, I was so perplexed that I just had to ask what she was thinking. She told me that I was completely different when talking in Arabic than I am when talking English. “Really?” That’s all I could say as my mind backtracked through the times I spoke the two languages as I tried to decipher between them. At first, I didn’t think of it too much, but the more I spoke, the more I became self-conscious of my personality and how I interacted with others. Which personality of mine was better? was I funnier in Arabic or English? It was something I didn't really understand.
Then came the day when some friends and I were watching an Arabic movie it had gone to a commercial break. It was fun watching Arabic commercials as they were sure to make us laugh. One of the funniest ones was a coca cola commercial and caused us to all break out in laughter, well all of us except my cousin; she didn't seem to get it. I suddenly realized that English commercials are not seen as a form of entertainment as they are here in Egypt. I then noticed that my cousin mostly spoke English and was not acquainted with the Egyptian cultural markers and pop culture icons, which is most like;y why she didn't understand the commercial. Then it hit me, our culture and our language shapes who we are, so since I am exposed to different cultural markers and appropriations from tow different languages I am different when speaking each one. So in the same way that some words cannot be translated into other languages, some personal and cultural traits cannot be translated either.
After coming to this realization, I felt more content understanding a bit more about myself and I went back to enjoying the movie with my friends and family.
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As the plane landed; touching the hard concrete with stiff bumps and jolts – finally reaching the stable ground, I dreamt of the times I have had here and the great times to come. There was no pace like Egypt, the rich and sophisticated landscapes and high-rise buildings stood side by side with dusty desert dunes and the impoverished slums. Some might not perceive it attractively, but to me it was different, it was my country. I liked to believe that even though I had lived abroad most of my life, I had a strong acquaintance with my home. Finally, I could meet up with old friends and family, eat the food I love and walk through its busy streets.
The weather was a warm embrace compared to the scorching lash that I was familiar with in the UAE. But all of this was forgotten when I heard the voice of an airport official greeting me. The words danced on my eardrums briefly before allowing me to absorb them. The words were so simple but listening to the uniqueness of the Egyptian dialect gave me deep pleasure. Now I was home.
I spoke nothing but Arabic, with my cousins, my friends and with everyone I met, from street vendors to taxi drivers. After a few weeks had gone by, one of my cousins came to visit from Canada. It had been over a year since I last saw her and we immediately struck up a conversation, talking about what’s new in our lives, how it is living where we live and such. Suddenly I realized we had been talking in English, for the first time since being in Egypt I was talking in English. When the rest of my cousins came over to my house we sat down to play a popular card game in Egypt. Everyone spoke Arabic, the game was more of a heated exchange of jokes and laughter than a real game, but nonetheless, it was great.
An hour after midnight my Friends and cousins went back to their homes and the house was drenched in silence. The only person left was my cousin from Canada who sat with me watching TV. She was looking at me in the most peculiar way, I was so perplexed that I just had to ask what she was thinking. She told me that I was completely different when talking in Arabic than I am when talking English. “Really?” That’s all I could say as my mind backtracked through the times I spoke the two languages as I tried to decipher between them. At first, I didn’t think of it too much, but the more I spoke, the more I became self-conscious of my personality and how I interacted with others. Which personality of mine was better? was I funnier in Arabic or English? It was something I didn't really understand.
Then came the day when some friends and I were watching an Arabic movie it had gone to a commercial break. It was fun watching Arabic commercials as they were sure to make us laugh. One of the funniest ones was a coca cola commercial and caused us to all break out in laughter, well all of us except my cousin; she didn't seem to get it. I suddenly realized that English commercials are not seen as a form of entertainment as they are here in Egypt. I then noticed that my cousin mostly spoke English and was not acquainted with the Egyptian cultural markers and pop culture icons, which is most like;y why she didn't understand the commercial. Then it hit me, our culture and our language shapes who we are, so since I am exposed to different cultural markers and appropriations from tow different languages I am different when speaking each one. So in the same way that some words cannot be translated into other languages, some personal and cultural traits cannot be translated either.
After coming to this realization, I felt more content understanding a bit more about myself and I went back to enjoying the movie with my friends and family.
I find it very interesting that you have managed to find your behavioral changes that come with the language you are currently speaking. Why do you think that this is the case? Can you remember any literary important moments that feel very familiar with the way you speak now?
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