This post is about nothing. I’m just trying out my new camera (dropped the other one in a river), a lovely toy.
My daughter, although born & raised in Lebanon, and the proud owner of a Lebanese passport, speaks only English. Her Arabic is limited, to say the least. She has a decent command of the classical Arabic, thanks to her teachers at school, but her spoken Arabic, or Lebanese, is poor, because she isn’t exposed to it very much. I admit, her parents are entirely at fault here, but we figure she’ll learn it eventually.
Her cousin, although born and raised in Lebanon, and the proud owner of a Lebanese passport as well, speaks only French. His Arabic is limited as well as his home environment is mainly French.
My daughter won’t learn French until next year; her cousin has to wait another 4 years before he will be taught English in school. Yet these two love to play with one another, and language is very clearly not a barrier. They comprehend one another very well, and they do this with the limited Arabic that they do know.
It’s quite amusing to hear the two talk to one another, with their ‘Arabeh mkassar’, broken Arabic.
This one is for the category of WTF. Taken on the Corniche.
Dear Arabic boy (23),
Uhhhhhh, no. I don’t think so. Although I am ‘foreign people’ I don’t think I will call you. A picture might have helped your case.
I’m back in Beirut, and back in business, and busier than ever. It's good to be back. I do apologize for my rather ‘vague’ definition of green and red. Will not happen again, but I had to keep you busy while I was unwinding in serene surroundings.
My summer was wonderful, as summers should be, filled with friends, family and adventures. I lost a camera in the Ardeche River, hiked through mud and rain with donkeys, got lost in a bramberry jungle, drove 5000 kilometers, went sailing and swimming, had goats keep me awake all night, slept nine to a room, caught frogs and fish, partied, slept and relaxed, trudged through silver mines, monasteries and mountains, and lots of other things but I’d have to go through my pictures to remember it all.
And now I am back for some more adventures on Lebanese soil, and on my first day back at work I walked right passed this lamp post on the Corniche where this Arabic boy is looking for a foster family. I didn’t change the phone number; I figured I’d help his cause a little.