Photo by castielli

Traveling to the Middle East can be a daunting experience, but you’re about as likely to get struck by lightning as you are to meet an Al Qaeda member.

Instead, you’ll come face to face with people who are as curious about you as you are about them. Arabs aren’t shy about bringing up sensitive subjects like politics and religion. These useful Arabic phrases will help you get by!

Photo by castielli

Politics

Ana saeed Bush halas means ‘I’m glad Bush is gone’ while Ana aheb Obama is ‘I like/love Obama’ (there’s no distinction between like and love in the Arab world).

Both phrases will help you win the hearts and minds of Arab friends, but be warned – they still high five in the Middle East so get ready for some hand jiving.

Religion

If you’re atheist, don’t tell ’em that. Just say Ana Christian/Buddhist/Hindu or whatever religion you feel somewhat inclined towards.

Saying you don’t believe in God (let alone Allah) will make the walls go up faster than a West Bank settlement.

If you’re interested in Islam (and I’m assuming you probably are if you’re traveling to the Middle East) saying Ana mohtam bil Islam (I’m interested in Islam) will get you invites into Muslim homes faster than you can say apostasy.

Manners

When pressing the flesh with the locals, it’s best to be polite. One little forces-sa-eeda (nice to meet you) with your hand on your heart goes a long way.

Photo by castielli

The usual follow up is inta min wayn? (where are you from?). Tell ‘em Ana min (plus the name of your country). They’ll actually be genuinely delighted to make your acquaintance, bil takeed (for sure!).

Getting to Know You…

Family is huge. In the Sultanate of Oman, for example, six kids is average, eight is the norm and ten to fourteen would be considered kabir (big).

After you’ve said where you’re from (ana min….) and what your name is (ismee + your name) they gotta know if you’re married and if not, lesh?! (why?!). What’s wrong with you?

The best excuse is ma fee falose, ‘no money’ (it costs a bundle to tie the knot in Arabia). They’ll nod gravely and say in the future, insh’allah (God willing).

Just in case you are married – Ana moo-ta-za-wee-zha will do the trick. Just throw a ma between the ana and the mootazaweezha and boom, you’re single again.

Destinations

Community Connection to Egypt

At the Sheesha/Hooka Café

A hookah / sheesha pipe is a giant water pipe a.k.a bong used for smoking improbably flavored tobacco (a Middle Eastern ritual of sorts best accompanied by lots of tiny glasses of sweet tea).

Wahead sheesha nana/eyeneb/tufeh/zaloo min fadlak means ‘One mint, grape, apple, jasmine hooka please.’

Mutter this sentence in its entirety and your head will be soon be swimming in a mint, grape, apple and jasmine cloud of tobacco.

Safe Travels and Good Luck!

When traveling in the Middle East, give the language a go and you’ll be soon surprised at just how friendly and welcoming the locals can be. Until then, salem maeelaykum (peace be with you).

Feature photos by aiace

If you venture to the Arab world and you’re not armed to the teeth (linguistically speaking), you’ll be taken as an easy mark by shopkeepers, touts and taxi drivers alike.

Stockpile these ten high-caliber phrases in your language arsenal, however, and you’ll be the one taking the shots. First – some pleasantries.

Photo by seier+seier+seier

Salem maelekum

Salem maelekum is an Arabic mantra. Figuratively it means ‘hello’ but literally it means ‘Peace be upon thee.’ Learn it. Love it. Live it.

Malekum salam

Malekum salam is the expected reply and translates to ‘Peace be upon thee also.’ Ironic that in the war torn Middle East, the word most often heard is peace, innit?

Nevertheless, any attempt at engaging in cultural routines will be rewarded with warm invitations for tea, dates and special ‘friend’ prices, insh’allah (God willing).

Kaffek?

Kaffek is the simplest and most widely understood way to ask ‘how’s it going?’ Inevitably, the response is ilhumdelah meaning thanks be to Allah (the ‘fine’ and the ‘thank you’ is all implied in the ilhumdelah).

Sweet tea and pleasantries aside, the bottom line is even if they like you, they’re still gonna try to fleece ya (nothing personal, it’s just business) so here’s the nitty-gritty:

Photo by aiace

Hatha ghaliah ghidan

‘That is too expensive.’

Hatha laisa al mablagh al motad

This one means ‘that’s not the normal price’ (very handy when they see your western face coming and the price gets jacked up 200%). On your first shopping expedition, get the down low on how much the locals pay by hitting the souq with a resident.

Ati khasam min fadlak

‘Give me a discount, please.’ (But don’t bust this one out until the local price has been established.)

Hal tazon anani ghabi?

‘Do you think I’m stupid?’ Guaranteed to get a laugh and maybe the best price of the day before you act like you’re gonna walk away.

Destinations

Community Connection to Egypt

Meshy, halas

Meshy, halas means ‘OK finished.’ Once the cost has been set, fix it with this Arabic catchphrase.

Meshy, halas is also used to end phone conversations before a long series of ma’salema, ma’salema, ma’salema (Arabs have this thing about always wanting to be the last person to say goodbye).

So, good luck on your travels in the Middle East and ma’salema, ma’salema, ma’salema…

Feature Photo: Ed Yourdon Photo: xiaojiecha

It’s inevitable. As a western woman in Egypt, you’re going to get stared at, even leered at sometimes.

As my fiancé and some of her female colleagues were fed-up with the nine months of long looks, catcalls and visual undressings they’d endured in Cairo, they decided to do something about it: they went veil shopping.

I came along to see to observe this retail therapy with a twist.

Our first whistle stop on this veil-shopping excursion was to the old Islamic quarter, otherwise known as Khan al Khalili.

The sliver-tongued touts at The Khan met the ladies’ inquires for veils first with curiosity (“You are Muslim?”) and then, once the girls had donned the veils, with delight: “Very beautiful. You want Egyptian husband too?”

Becky and Kristina laughed and opted for the standard hejab, which revealed only their faces. Jamie took the more liberal Spanish style option, leaving her neck, chin, and ear lobes exposed. Katherine and Mariette, on the other hand, held out for more conservative veils we’d end up finding elsewhere.

Walking through the medieval souq, half the group veiled and half unveiled, the girls chatted and giggled about the novelty of being a Muslim girl for the day.

Photo: emi faulk

The touts were undaunted and continued to court them religiously. In fact, the ladies in the hejabs actually seemed to get more attention than those without it.

Maybe it was because their ankles and arms weren’t covered-up like those of good Muslim girls. Next stop, Midan Ataba.

Midan Ataba is as popular with locals for shopping as Khan al Khalili is with tourists for souvenir hunting.

Thrown haphazardly under a freeway overpass not far from the City of the Dead, this flea market of flea markets seemed a likely place to find the khimar and niqab the unveiled girls wanted.

Slipping on the khimar, a bell shaped drape with a hole cut out for the face, Katherine suddenly became shapeless, her eyes that much more striking. Collectively, we ‘oooed.’

When Mariette pulled the niqab (an all black gown and veil combo) over her lithe frame, she too was transformed.

With only her blue eyes in sight, we stared at her transformation in wonder – she was one of them now. Only her bare sandalled feet gave her away.

Surveying the ring of veils around me, from the liberal Spanish style to the most conservative niqab, I realized that I was to the group what Mariette’s bare feet were to her ensemble – the giveaway. I excused myself and talked to them after the veil experiment, eager to hear what they had to say.

“The Spanish style veil wasn’t actually much of a stretch for me,” admitted Jamie. “Next time though, I’ll cover my arms, ankles and feet too ‘cause I think that’s why we got more attention with the veil than without it – gotta get some of those cute ‘toe gloves’ too, I guess.”

Becky observed:

“At first, it felt funny wearing the hejab but I was having a bad hair day anyway so it was kinda nice to not have to fuss over it.”

Kristina concurred with a nod of her hejab.

“The bell shaped khimar was not my style, too old-fashioned, really. But I’m sure if I wore it, Osama wouldn’t mind,” Katherine said with a wink. “If I were to veil regularly though, I’d go for the Spanish style, I think.”

“The niqab felt strangely liberating,” Mariette said, somewhat astonished.

Photo: turkairo

“I could see and not be seen. It was really exciting to be anonymous for a change and more people spoke to me in Arabic today than probably my whole time in Egypt. Although, it was pretty hot under all that black polyester.”

So if your travel philosophy is ‘to do as the Romans do, when in Rome’ here are some places that will help you do as the Egyptians do when in Egypt:

1. Khan al Khalili

Refine your bargaining skills in the city’s most ancient quarter, ‘The Khan.’ From pashmina to silk and everything in between, they’ll mix and match your hejab to fit that favorite lip-gloss of yours perfectly.

For fun, tally-up the marriage proposals at the end of the day at Naguib Mafouz’s old haunt, Fishawi’s Coffeehouse.

2. Midan Ataba

Rummage under the bridge with the locals through the myriad of colors, patterns and vendors for that special veil that just screams Sofia Loren circa 1950. Score the khimar and niqab here for a fraction of what they go for elsewhere and, oh yeah, don’t forget to breathe.

3. City Stars

Photo: Please Don’t Smile

Escape the heat in Cairo’s answer to Dubai’s Mall of the Emirates. Rub elbows with the Cairene elite and window-shop for the latest in finely stitched niqabs, straight from the runways of the Persian Gulf.

4. Grand Mall

The humble cousin to City Stars, this small shopping center in the middle of affluently green and westernized Ma’adi has more veils than expats – and that’s a lot!

English speaking clerks plus all the accessories you’ll ever need (custom pins & headbands included) make a trip to Ma’adi de rigueur.

5. Al-Ghouriyya

Not far from the Crusader’s Wall of Saladin on Sharia al Muizz li-Din Allah, this is yet another hot spot to ‘veil-up.’

Vibrant hejab shops (staffed mostly by men for some odd reason) plus Thai-made Gucci and Prada knock-offs in the streets make for a strange mix of the local and the international.

Video Link

To see some of the girls in action at ‘The Khan’ check out this video from Lonely Planet TV:

Feature photo by CharlesFred. Photo above by Soqotra (Yemen).

Despite its rap as a hotbed of kidnapping, terrorism, and tribalism, San’a, Yemen is doing for Arabic what Antigua, Guatemala has done for Spanish: making the language affordable and accessible in a stunningly beautiful location (UNESCO has declared the entire old town of San’a a World Heritage Site).

Wandering the labyrinth streets of San’a is like peeking back into the Persian Gulf before oil, before the trappings of modernity. Here the essence of frankincense – piney, medicinal and evocative – drifts between lopsided towers of stone and mud brick.

Stacked on top of each other six to eight stories high, the towers drape the narrow alleyways in shadow. Yemeni women seem to float by, their eyes encased in head-to-toe black veils.

Photo by alvise forcellini.

Mustachioed men in turbans and long skirts sport curved blades. Smiling broadly, they ask for your name, where you’re from. Little boys and girls stop and stare before chanting, sura, sura, sura! (Photo, photo, photo!). The cacophonous adhan, the Islamic call to prayer, thunders down from the peaks of minarets spiraling skyward.

The sights and sounds of ancient San’a get you all turned around. Don’t worry though, that’s part of the fun. But when the minarets get to whirling like dervishes and you’ve heard the adhan more than once, you’ll know its time to stop one of those guys in a ma’waz (an ankle-length skirt) and jambiya (Yemeni dagger) to lay down that line you’ve been practicing on the plane ride over: Low samahat, eyen madrassa arabia? (Excuse me, where’s the Arabic school?)

They’ll be delighted with your attempt at their language and will more than likely escort you all the way there. If you’re feeling adventurous, accept their invitation to join them after class for a traditional afternoon of chewing qat, a mildly addictive stimulant grown throughout Yemen.

Photo by Dawson-Foremans.

During class, you’ll get the kind of attention that would have made you squirm in your high school French course: intensively individualized instruction. Unlike in Tunisia, Syria, and Egypt (where as many foreigners as possible are packed into a class), classes in Yemen max-out at six students per teacher.

Before you book your flight, here’s a couple of places that’ll get you headed straight into the heart of Arabia.

Center for Arabic Language & Eastern Studies
Phone: 967-1-292-090; Fax 960-281-700; Az-Zumar St.; www.ynet.ye/cales.

Part of the University of San’a, the school offers monthly intensive courses for US $390 for three to six students (80 hours: four hours per day, five days a week).

San’a Institute for Arabic Language
Phone: 967-1-284-330; Fax: 967-1-284-329, As-Saliah St.; www.sialyemen.com/ An intensive three week course (60 hours) costs US$ 300. A six week (120 hours) course goes for $570; a nine week (180 hours) course will set you back $1,215 and a full year (720 hours) is just $3,240. Arabic for Specific Purposes (ASP) is also available.

Yemen Language Center & Yemen Center for Arab Studies
Phone: 967-1 -270-200; Fax: 967-1-270-127; 26th of September St.; www.ylcint.com. An all inclusive five weeks in Yemen (airfare, Arabic instruction, accommodation, two meals a day, organized excursions and high speed Internet) will cost you $2,960.

Community Connection

For more on travel in this under-visited region, check out 6 Under-the-Radar Destinations in the Middle East, 7 Reasons to Travel to Iran NOW, or Discovering Israel’s City of the Future.