"How are you, my beloved?" We had just finished praying at the mosque next door to our place and an older man sat down behind me and started putting on his socks. He said the above. I think he half expected me to be Egyptian. I wasn't though, but I responded appropriately and I don't think I sounded too foreign so he didn't push the envelope. "My beloved" or "Habibi" is a phrase in common use amongst just about everybody here - between friends, between parent and child, between teacher and student is even possible. Another common wording is "Beloved of my heart" or "Habib 'albi". I've started using both more as of late, they're very endearing words.
Another phrase which is going to require some background was said to me by our bawwab, who is kind of like a guard of sorts at your apartments. He usually lives at the apartments, might be married and have kids or not, and is responsible for collecting your trash bags (which you place outside your door) and is otherwise available for running small errands for you if you so desire. A key to be made, some bread to eat, some medicine from the pharmacy, etc. His wages come from the tenants of the apartments who pay anywhere from about 20 EGP to 50 EGP. Bawwabs are usually stereotyped into having come from the south of Egypt and as being of a lower education level than others. Having a troublesome bawwab can make for uncomfortable living situations as some of the experiences of our classmates attest to.
Joey, Tim, and Ahmad found their bawwab stealing from them while they were sleeping in their rooms. It wasn't the first time he had been in. It turns out all that money they thought had just been misplaced actually had another story attached to it. The icing on the cake is that the bawwab gets to stay at the apartment building and they have to find another place to live.
Another apartment of girls had to actually get the director of our program, Robert (who is gamid giddan!), here involved with the situation with their bawwab. Robert ended up breaking the bawwab's cigarette in front of his face and calling him a liar. Apparently that was the most appropriate way to handle their issue with him and as far I know things settled down after that.
The Egyptian-American house (affectionately named for being two apartments basically attached together and for being a hub-hub of student activity outside of the university) hasn't mentioned one positive quality to me yet about their bawwab.
Our bawwab, Usama, however seems to be nothing of the above. I have only found positive qualities in him. He doesn't smoke cigarettes. His kids are gorgeous and love him and he seems to always have the front door to the apartments covered in one way or another and does his job well. Which is basically why we pay him monthly. So...
The beginning of this month was a new year. In Egypt they say, "Kulla sana wa anta tayyib" meaning something like I wish the best for you all year. It's a common phrase in holiday seasons and it's in use constantly. So when Usama and I crossed paths in front of the apartment and said to me, "Kulla shahr wa anta tayyib" the same phrase except the word "year" was replaced with the word "month", I was thoroughly confused. I couldn't place the significance of the word "month" in this context. I responded, somewhat awkwardly, with the same phrase but one upped it by saying "two-months" instead of one. That would be akin to doubling whatever kindness and well-wishing is found within the phrase and it is nearly expected of one to do so.
For example, if someone says to you, "You brightened the place" upon your arrival, you would say in return, "That's your light!" Or if someone were to say to you, "God bless you" you can say "The blessing is in you!" I sometimes feel that half of any conversation is composed of formulated greetings and blessings passed around amongst the conversants.
In any case, it took me about 10 seconds or more to realize the intent of Usama's words and that was after him actually asking me if I understood or not. He was asking and reminding me, rather politely, of his due for the new month. Phrases like this and Egyptian speech in general are coded in niceties and indirect ways of expressing one thing while saying another. Reading between the lines and gathering cultural experience is crucial here.
Let's not go into the fact that we under-paid our bawwab, that's a whole other story.
Another phrase which is going to require some background was said to me by our bawwab, who is kind of like a guard of sorts at your apartments. He usually lives at the apartments, might be married and have kids or not, and is responsible for collecting your trash bags (which you place outside your door) and is otherwise available for running small errands for you if you so desire. A key to be made, some bread to eat, some medicine from the pharmacy, etc. His wages come from the tenants of the apartments who pay anywhere from about 20 EGP to 50 EGP. Bawwabs are usually stereotyped into having come from the south of Egypt and as being of a lower education level than others. Having a troublesome bawwab can make for uncomfortable living situations as some of the experiences of our classmates attest to.
Joey, Tim, and Ahmad found their bawwab stealing from them while they were sleeping in their rooms. It wasn't the first time he had been in. It turns out all that money they thought had just been misplaced actually had another story attached to it. The icing on the cake is that the bawwab gets to stay at the apartment building and they have to find another place to live.
Another apartment of girls had to actually get the director of our program, Robert (who is gamid giddan!), here involved with the situation with their bawwab. Robert ended up breaking the bawwab's cigarette in front of his face and calling him a liar. Apparently that was the most appropriate way to handle their issue with him and as far I know things settled down after that.
The Egyptian-American house (affectionately named for being two apartments basically attached together and for being a hub-hub of student activity outside of the university) hasn't mentioned one positive quality to me yet about their bawwab.
Our bawwab, Usama, however seems to be nothing of the above. I have only found positive qualities in him. He doesn't smoke cigarettes. His kids are gorgeous and love him and he seems to always have the front door to the apartments covered in one way or another and does his job well. Which is basically why we pay him monthly. So...
The beginning of this month was a new year. In Egypt they say, "Kulla sana wa anta tayyib" meaning something like I wish the best for you all year. It's a common phrase in holiday seasons and it's in use constantly. So when Usama and I crossed paths in front of the apartment and said to me, "Kulla shahr wa anta tayyib" the same phrase except the word "year" was replaced with the word "month", I was thoroughly confused. I couldn't place the significance of the word "month" in this context. I responded, somewhat awkwardly, with the same phrase but one upped it by saying "two-months" instead of one. That would be akin to doubling whatever kindness and well-wishing is found within the phrase and it is nearly expected of one to do so.
For example, if someone says to you, "You brightened the place" upon your arrival, you would say in return, "That's your light!" Or if someone were to say to you, "God bless you" you can say "The blessing is in you!" I sometimes feel that half of any conversation is composed of formulated greetings and blessings passed around amongst the conversants.
In any case, it took me about 10 seconds or more to realize the intent of Usama's words and that was after him actually asking me if I understood or not. He was asking and reminding me, rather politely, of his due for the new month. Phrases like this and Egyptian speech in general are coded in niceties and indirect ways of expressing one thing while saying another. Reading between the lines and gathering cultural experience is crucial here.
Let's not go into the fact that we under-paid our bawwab, that's a whole other story.
No comments:
Post a Comment