The skill levels range from barely literate to fairly literate with some vocabulary. Sheerly because of my immersion and the husband's far advanced studies, I've managed to pick up some of the vocab, but I still count myself among the fairlly literate, often confusing my taas, tahs, thas, dhas, etc. (and you can imagine about how well that goes over with a former editor, always spelling things wrong!).
Anyway, cultural conversation, right? So, I've explained (and many of you know) the very conservative nature of the culture here. Our dress code at school is more restrictive even than Asbury: long-sleeved shirts that must be hip level if worn with pants, skirts to your ankles, pull the hair up and make sure it's dry (wet hair is...well, we'll just call it haram - shameful). As they put it at school, "Most Omani men have never even seen their sisters' ankles and hair since they were children." (Don't get me started on my views of what Omani men and women have and havent seen, based on the TV and ads to which I know they've been exposed, but ok, we're being sensitive here).
So all of my class, dressed appropriately, attending respectfully to the instructors, has made it through five and a half grueling hours of Arabic-language training. We're about a half-hour away from freedom for the day and restoration to our status as well-functioning adults in our native language. We're working on commands, "take," "give," "punch," (Prof. Hussein's a jovially-violent one) and "look."
So, we take turns telling each other to take a pen, give it back, punch your neighbor, etc. etc. etc. Then Hussein jumps in and starts giving directives. He instructs Katie, one of the three married women whose husband is also in the class to "shoof Steve." She leans over and, to Hussein's chagrin and surprise, kisses him!
I didn't even see the darn kiss, it was so short and chaste, but remember, Hussein's supposedly never seen an ankle before and, to be fair to the Omanis, nearly all kisses are edited out of movies and television shows. Well, he laughs in his surprise and just comments, "Shoo hadtha?!" (What's this?!). In the midst of the scandal, he forgets to explain the issue, that shoof means look, not, in fact kiss, and he moves on to the next victim, the youngest student, only just graduated from high school, probably the least experienced in Arabic and a bit uncomfortable amidst all the "adults."
"Shoof Megan," Hussein commands.
J, looking understandably perplexed, shifts his eyes downward, embarrased at the prospect.
"Shoof Megan," Hussein encourages.
J barely looks up from his notebook and shakes his head.
"SHOOF Megan!" he insists.
Reluctantly, J raises his eyes and brings his hand up to his lips, kissing it and miming the action of blowing it to her across the room.
At this point, half the class (like me who didn't even see the first kiss) are just plain confused as to why he's blowing a kiss to shy, quiet, Megan who is married but whose husband is not in the class and, oh yeah, did I mention she's pregnant? Hussein was scandalized, needless to say, and shouted, "What is wrong with you?!" at poor J.
Hussein doesn't understand, naturally, that J is 18 years old, the son of a pastor who has recently imported his family from the states where he was invariably homeschooled and, I'm guessing, sheltered from many of the same things (in principle, I've seen his sister's ankle in public) as Hussein. Of all the people in the class, he was the most likely to be mortified by the whole exercise that ended up mortifying Hussein.
I can only imagine the foot on which J got off to with Hussein. At least I only broke a chair (which, let's face it, klutzy things simply are not atypical for me).
On to day 2...
Also, here are a few shots of the skit (Streetfighter: Gap School Edition, in which we are all traditionally-dressed Omani ninjas) performed by Jacob's class for the end-of-term party last week. I was tapped to play a couple of teachers to fill in the empty spots. Yes, that's me in an Abbaya, no it's not my baby bump, it's my impersonation of Huda, one of the teachers who is preggers (Sorry, Caris and Rick)
Anne, Leigh and Miriam in the majlis as Huda, Wadha and Kamela
Aaron "Dr. Hautir" (Danger) combats Kamela
Slimming, don't have to do your hair, don't have to iron your clothes...maybe there is something to all this!
Photos courtesy, Miriam of Arabia. Shukran!
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