Saturday, June 2, 2012

Coming to a Close, Part II


It's been a difficult day, but I promised this last entry, so I will deliver. I am currently sitting in my roommates house in Casa. Although Casa is by no means my favorite city in Morocco, her house in beautiful and her parents are very welcoming. Here are the final two parts of my closing entry.

Part Three: The Last Two Weeks
My final two weeks in Morocco could not have been better. I'm glad I did not take off right away when finals finished- there were too many goodbyes to say all at once, and too many places I wanted to take a final look at. I'm also glad I did not stay longer, especially since my ATM card broke the day before I left Ifrane. I managed to exchange the American cash I had been hoarding all year, but another week would have been virtually impossible. Lesson learned: Always have backup cash. Beyond that small inconvenience, our journey was fabulous. Highlights are as follows:

        FINALLY riding a camel. It only took me nine months what most tourists in Morocco do in five days, but no complaints. The ride itself was tall, uncomfortable, and slightly smelly. I don't think I'll be going into the camel business any time soon. The Sahara however, was surreal. The sheer enormity of the shifting, golden sand made me feel as if I were in a picture. It amazed me to think that people actually traveled across such a place. It was great fun to climb the dunes and play in the sand.

           Driving a stick-shift car thorough the high Atlas. After camel-time, we rented a car and headed for the ocean, stopping in pretty desert towns along the way. Since only two of the five of us could drive a manual, I drove about a third of the time. Some of the roads were far scarier than any I had ever seen: tiny strips of pavement full of sharp turns and switch-backs. The difficulty of the drive was compounded by the fact that EVERYONE in this country flashes their brights at you to warn they are coming. By the end of my first and only night drive, I wanted to smash something. We returned the car without a single mishap, and I am a better and more confident driver because of it. (PS- Thanks Chuck for teaching me to drive a manual last summer!)

          Couch surfing. (www.couchsurfing.org) Ok, I didn't want to tell you guys (mom, dad) that I was doing this, because I knew you'd worry. But it turned out wonderfully, we met some amazing people (a Kung Fu Instructor who let us into his class, and a guy in Sidi Ifni who made us tea on the beach). There were five us, we were safe, and it was a wonderful experience.

          Saying goodbye to Marrakech. I consider the fancy apartment I discovered there back in November my Moroccan home. After a week on the road, it was great to relax in a familiar neighborhood, drink fresh Orange Juice, and witness the spectacle of the Djmma-Al-Fina one last time.

          Laying on the beach. I spent the second week with two of my favorite girls, laying in the sun and getting our tan (ok, sunburn) on. We found a beautiful, clean, and harassment-free beach in Oulidia, and it was everything I wanted after a week of intense travel.

To sum it up, my last two weeks here were everything I wanted: beaches, camels, road-trips, and great friends.

Part Four: Saying Goodbye

Yesterday I said goodbye to four more of my good friends, and it was even more difficult than I imagined. Two of them I hope to see again very soon (viva la Portland! :D), the other two it may be awhile. I'm finding goodbyes are no less difficult, but I do prefer an efficient system. When the time comes I like a quick chat, a good hug, a few laughs, and occasionally passing them a small note, filled with the things I find to hard to say. I will miss the people I have found in the
I also want to (hopefully) iterate what I think will be going on in my mind when I come home. I have been away a long time: ten months of travel, of a strange culture, of everything being completely different from how I lived before. It has come to the point where I can picture home (my family, my friends, my favorite places), but I have trouble picturing myself at home. Adding to this is that one week from now I will be in a new house, in a new city, with new roommates and a new job. I have been away from those things for so long, I have trouble picturing what they are like.

I expect to be home and feel many of the things I felt upon coming here: slightly confused, quite scared, and on occasions a bit unhappy. It has nothing to do with the people I will return to (I can't wait to see all of you. Seriously. On a scale from one to bacon, my excitement to see my friends and family is a bacon-point-nine). I think my feeling will have much more to do with the word re-adjustment. Therefore, please be patient with me. I am not the same person that left, but I hope to be better, more focused. If nothing else, I'll have more stories, and I want to tell them to anyone who will listen. I may follow up with the blog through the total re-adjustment process, but I will have many other exciting plans and challenges that await.

As you may know, I spent the last three months in Africa. A wondrous, magical place. But as shadows lengthen across the KBHR window, thoughts turn to homecoming. Journey's end. Because in a sense, it's the coming back, the return which gives meaning to the going forth. We really don't know where we've been until we've come back to where we were. Only, where we were may not be as it was because of who we've become. Which is, after all, why we left.
-Bernard Stevens
Northern Exposure 

Friday, June 1, 2012

Coming To A Close, Part I


I started this blog entry about three weeks ago, when I was procrastinating on my finals. Sadly, I couldn't even finish what I was using to procrastinate, so here is the first part of my two-part closing. 


Part One: The Contrast
I have mentioned before that things here are such a contradiction : pre-marital sex is harram, (forbidden), but harassment is an unfortunate national pastime. Drinking in public can get you arrested, but the smell of hash in the street is not uncommon. Perhaps the greatest contrast however, is the one between the home and the street. I will contrast these extremes with two stories:

A couple weeks ago, I went to Fez. As we arrived at the gate of the Old Medina we could hear a commotion going on in a nearby cafe. Upon investigating, we found two men beating each other into pulp. This was not a drunken scuffle at the club, but a drag-out brawl worthy of Fight Club. Tables and chairs were overturned, broken glass flew, and a large group of people formed a circle around them. However, no one stepped in to stop the fight until one man's head and neck were covered in blood. Now, I know these things happen in the US as well, and it is only my sheltered small-townness that allowed me to go twenty years without seeing a real fight. However the intensity of the violence, in such a public place, on a regular weekday afternoon, was quite a shock.

To compare..

Tuesday before we left Ifrane, we went to Azarou, a small town about fifteen minutes away. We walked, shopped, and drank orange juice. As we were about to leave, we heared someone call out “Hey, remember me?” We turned around to find the mountain guide that had taken us hiking four months ago. He somehow recognized us and invited us to his house for tea. We entered his tiny apartment and he and his friends treated us to fresh squeezed orange juice, tea, and popcorn, we sat and chatted about Morocco, Ifrane, and crazy American customs. I felt so welcome, so at home. The afternoon ended with a gift of a bag of tea and wishes for safe travels. I left with a big smile on my face, loving life and everyone in it.

The polar opposites here never cease to amaze me. Life here seems more precarious and in some ways more precious to those who value it. It is not numbed or sterilized by perfectly manicured lawns and rows of identical houses. Instead it is vibrant, full of beautiful color and offensive smells, drab shacks and warm houses. I've grown to both love the contradictions and yet still be offended by some of them.

There you have the contrast of Morocco, what I feel is essence of the country I have spent the last nine and a half months.


Part Two: The Change
I've realized the travel does not give you some amazing worldly superior to those that have never left their home. Photos of myself in random places does not make me a better person, nor does my ability to navigate a medina make me more kind, generous or loving. What it has given me in a new sense of identity: I've learned what it means to be me: what habits I am willing to give up, what values I refuse to let go of. 

In some ways, I am stronger in my convictions. Witnessing a world where women are treated without true justice, where the disabled are often reduced to begging, where there is no recycling.. Living in that type of place has impressed upon me the necessity FOR those things, impressed upon me the necessity of basic rights for all people who are born into this world. 

I have also witnessed good things I want to take back with me: the generosity of people. Giving to the poor is one of the five pillars of Islam, and many people extend that type of hospitality to all those they meet. The Moroccan ability with language also inspires me- they catch on so fast, it makes my fumbling Arabic seem quite silly. It inspires me to learn more and continue my studies. I also have a deeper understanding of the religion, and how perceiving other nations as too fundamentally different has caused so much unnecessary pain.

This place has changed me in little ways as well. It's going to take awhile to stop stocking up on rest-stop toilet paper and kissing cheeks as greeting. I will still love cumin on everything and can not wait to share Moroccan tea, Tagine, and Arabic music with my friends and family. 

I have a bit more to say on my leaving, but I will save Parts Three and Four, My Last Two Weeks and Saying Goodbye for tomorrow. Good Night. 
A Sneak Preview of My Last Two Weeks. More To Come. 

Friday, May 18, 2012

Holy Smokes.

i'm done. I'm Done. I'M DONE!!! I can't believe it. I just took my last final, checked out of my dorm, shipped my luggage off to Casablanca, and said a few very sad goodbyes. I can't even process it completely right now. I'm sad and happy and excited and terrified all at the same time.. Which, come to think of it, was exactly how I felt when I left Montana. I have a few more blog entries to do, and 16 more days in this beautiful country with some amazing people. Tomorrow I head to the desert to ride camels and play in the sand, then it's Morocco Road Trip 4.0. Hopefully sometime during that time I will catch up on the last few entries and say some final goodbyes. More News Soon!
Oh, and that's me, my friend Alyssa, and the Frog I brought to a party.

Monday, May 14, 2012

You Might Be In Morocco If..

This is purely for the entertainment of my lovely friends. Time here is winding down, and I want to try and get my final thoughts in before I....  (tear/gulp/chin quiver/smile/gulp/tear) Leave.

You Might Be In Morocco If...

You use an (english) adjective and then the word “Bizaff”.

Traveling with seven people stuffed like sardines into an old Mercedes-Benz seems to be a normal form of transport.

You know that Camels taste good.

Following a stranger down a dark ally is a normal way to find housing for the night.

You think the Grand Hotel is where dreams die.. Or where dreams are fulfilled. Sometimes both happen in the same night.

40 Moroccan Dirhams (about 5 US Dollars) is a splurge for a meal.

Your weekdays are used to plan your traveling weekends.

Coucous Friday is the best lunch of the week.

You e-mail your parents begging for American peanut butter. When it arrives, it's better than Christmas.

As a female, you have been called a “Spice Girl” “Shakira” or asked if you could be traded for camels.

You brag about bargaining, asking for directions in another language, or finding your way around an Old Medina.

Twelve people eating off of one plate is a perfectly acceptable way to serve a meal. You are happy when everyone has some sort of eating utensil.

You have made some of the best friends you will ever have, and can not imagine your life without these new friends in it.  

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Food!


   I thought about doing this entry a couple of days ago while I was suffering from a serious case of food poisoning, which I am honestly surprised I have avoided this long, but I put it off until tonight. Awhile ago I stumbled across a project showing the differences in eating habits, food culture, and food availability around the world. The link was on my previous post, but you can also see it here if you are too lazy to scroll down. Since I don't really have time to assemble a Moroccan family with all their groceries,  I thought I would give a quick breakdown of food prices in Morocco.

1 Kilo (2.2 lbs) of "Kefta" or Ground Beef with spices - $10.60 USD
    This is the most expensive item on the food list, and is not usually available to poor people

4 Large tomatoes, onions, or peppers (when in season)- $1.17 USD
      I buy a lot of vegetables, and can usually feed four people a good mixture for about $2 

One medium-sized bag of "Lays" potato chips- $2.35

1 Kilo of strawberries- $1-$3USD, Depending on the season

1-1.5 Kilo of "Harsha", a hard, flat cake similar to cornbread- $1.41 USD
    This is delicious, often freshly cooked with jam, nutella or honey 

One Glass of Fresh-Squeezed Orange Juice- $0.50-$1USD  

1 Kilo of Almonds- $7 USD 

One glass of sweet mint tea or coffee- $1 USD 

One 8oz bottle of "Especial" Beer $2-$3USD

Food at a restaurant obviously varies greatly, from fancy sushi at $50 a plate to sandwiches that cost less than a dollar. It has been estimated (thanks to my lovely roommate) that a family would spend about $412 on food per month. 

Some pictures of my local grocery store. 





Thursday, April 26, 2012

One More Thing

I found this interesting:

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2008/5/26/102458/137/70/522670/

A post about food in Morocco is soon to come!

Things They Don't Tell You About Studying Abroad


I've been a bit lazy in the blogging lately, especially since the weather has gotten nicer and finals week in approaching.There are so more things I want to cover before I leave, so I'm going to attempt to get it all done. 


It's How You Look At It.
        The other day I mentioned something about “Living In Morocco”, and I was correct by another year-long exchange student that no, I “Study in Morocco” and, most importantly, have a set date to leave. The person who corrected me is constantly talking about what he misses back home, and is literally counting the days until his return to the US. He views this as a temporary escape from real life, whereas I view it as a drastic change IN my real life. I think that because I committed to this experience wholeheartedly, I am much happier with my decision.
You'll Miss Your Family
       Sorry family... But I didn't really expect this. Since it it near-impossible to just call home whenever I feel like it, I find myself looking forward to skype calls and emails much more. I am also much more appreciative of what they have done for me, especially in handling things while I'm away.

People Won't Get Your Jokes
      Unless you are with people from the same country 24/7, you will make jokes or tell stories that people will not understand. Some things just don't translate, and that is all part of the learning process.

You Won't Learn a Language Overnight
      It will become easier, but only over time. Language learning requires patience and a willingness to make mistakes, two things I struggle with. Learning Arabic has been especially difficult, since the colloquial in Morocco differs so much from what I learn in the classroom.

Weird Food Makes Your Body Do.. Weird Things
      I won't go into that one in detail. Let it suffice to say that there are delicious foods in Morocco that are better for me not to eat.  

You Will Learn Who Your Friends Are
      I have mentioned this before, but I will say it again. People who I have expected to stay in my life have virtually disappeared, and people who really care about me have managed to show it. I also know that there are people I will see again and it will be like nothing has changed.  


Monday, April 16, 2012

What's New?

A trip to the Spanish City of Melilla

Writing my name in the sand 

The Beach


Sunday lunch.... 

With good friends!

SNOW in APRIL. In Africa. Womp. 

Playing my guitar.. because it's too cold to go outside!

And also.. This funny story. Remember when I was worried about making some serious cultural faux pas? Well, I worry no more, because my two of my friends (names will be omitted) committed the ultimate faux pas.. No way I could ever top this one! 

In the train station in Fez, there are bathrooms. In those bathrooms there are long, trough-like sinks sitting  on the ground. These sinks are used by Muslims to preform ablutions before prayer. However, when placed in a Men's bathroom, and to the full bladder, they also resemble... Urinals. My friends were yelled at for this, but of course didn't understand until after the deed was done. Opps. Happy Monday Everyone!

Monday, April 9, 2012

Five Things.. Well, Ten Really.

Five Habits I've picked up since being in Morocco.
  1. I eat cumin on everything. I may only have salt and cumin shakers in my house from now on.
  2. I am comfortable kissing people I've just met on the cheek as a greeting. I will probably need to drop this habit when I get home, to keep from making people feel awkward.
  3. I never look men in the eye while I'm in public... I started doing this again in Ireland towards the end of the trip, but I am still much less friendly to strangers now.
  4. I'm much more ok with enormous/expensive places of worship. Although I still do not think religious institutions should build fancy centers of worship exclusively for their own use, I've started to accept it an an unavoidable fact.
  5. I am much more interested and understand more Middle Eastern politics than before. I can now recite a fairly unbiased history of Israel/Palestine, as well as keep up with current politics and issues with the Arab Spring.
Five things in America that I no longer take for granted:

  1. My family and friends. Being here, I've learned who really matters to me, and who cares about how I'm doing. I appreciate those people so much more now. I have also found those kind of people here, a few of which I want to maintain friendship with.
  2. The ability to drive. For almost four years, I had the ability to just get in my car and drive pretty much where ever I wanted. After nine months of buses, trains, and grand taxis, it will be really strange to leave when ever I want, in the comfort and style of my trusty Dodge. 
  3. Understanding and communicating with people. When traveling, and even in school, I live in a constant state of no-quite-knowing what is going on. It's better now that I can communicate my basic needs, but still frustrating. When interacting with Moroccan Students, they don't get my jokes or references, which can make me feel left out.
  4. Rocky Mountain College and all the freedoms that come with it: No curfew, walking on the grass, drinking water in the library, knowing who to talk to for help with classes. I am excited to go back to professors that know me, and to finish my two degrees at RMC. 
  5. Mexican Food, Peanut Butter, Bacon, and Ranch Dressing. “Nuf said.   

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Running Rabat

Around the middle of Febuary, a conversation went something like this
“Hey, wanna run a half marathon?”
Me: “That sounds hard.”
“No, it'll be fine.”
Me: “Ok.”

Following that conversation, I downloaded a training plan, followed it (sorta), and ran 21km in Rabat on Sunday. Here's the list of awesome things that happened:

-It was well organized. AND it started on time. Those two things rarely happen in this country, and so I was pleasantly surprised.

-People cheered you on through the whole course. The best was a group of kids standing outside their school with their hands our for high-fives. Second best was the yells of “Good Job Mademoiselle”

-There was a disproportionate number of men to women- Probably about 80%-85% men.

-It was GREAT to run outside, in shorts, with all the other competitors. There were over 2,000 people there from all over the world, all united by a common goal.

-Rabat is a beautiful city. Right on the beach, and we ran past what was literally a castle with botanical gardens inside. You really get to see a lot of a city running 13.1 miles through it.

AND THE BEST PART....

-I, formerly know as “weannie D'Jeannie”, finished in 2 hours and 16 minutes, only 6 minutes slower than I hoped for. I had never perviously run that far, nor had I trained for any sort of time-trial. And it felt good.  
Number and Residency Card- Since I'm a resident it only cost me 30 Dirhams to Register!
After the race!!

Group Photo!




Me and a big boat

Rabat Boardwalk 
Post-Race Desert






Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Morocco A to Z

My first semester of Arabic I learned... Alif, Baa, Ta, Tha... But I don't want to bore you with all that. So, here is my Morocco alphabet!

A is for... Arabs. The second most common ethnic group here, these are descendants from the the dynasties that spread Islam into North Africa in the late 7th century AD.

B is for... Berber. The “natives” of North Africa, these are descendants of the people who lived in North Africa before the spread of Islam. The Berber language is still spoken by about 25% of the Moroccan population, mainly in rural areas.

C is for... Casablanca. The largest city in Morocco, and the home of the Hassan II Mosque.

D is for... Dirham, the currency in Morocco. The current exchange rate is about 8.2 dirhams to 1 US dollar.

E is for... Equality. Although things here are changing, they are changing slowly. Approximately 10% of people here live below the poverty line, though some figures show it may be as high as 20%. In contrast, about 2% of people in the US live below the poverty line.

F is for... French. Morocco was a French protectorate from 1912 until 1952. This influence is seen in the language (French is an official language, and the language of business in Morocco), as well as in the school systems and city architecture.

G is for... Geography. Morocco has everything: mountains, beaches, desert, big cities and rural villages. The geography of this country is so diverse.

H is for... “Hamdullala”, literally meaning “Praise God”, it is a commonly used expression of thankfulness. A greeting commonly goes, “Are you well?” “I am well, Hamdullala”

I is for... “Inshalallah” Another commonly used expression, this one means “God willing”, and is tacked onto almost every phrase about the future. “I will meet you tomorrow, Inshalallah.”

J is for... Jellaba. The Morccan national costume, this is a long robe with a pointed hood worn by both men and women.


K is for... King. Morocco is ruled by a monarchy, and the current king is Mohamed VI.


L is for... Lions. The last Barbary lion was killed in Morocco in 1922. The stone lion in Ifrane commemorates this species. An attempt bring back the species is being made in zoos.


M is for... Music. Traditional Moroccan music involves a lot of drums, a small guitar, and chanting.

N is for... National Football (aka soccer) team. The super bowl pales in comparison to the support roused when a Moroccan football team plays. It is great fun to sit in a cafe and drink tea and watch the games.


O is for... Official Language. The official languages in Morocco are Arabic and French. Berber was recently added as an official language as well.

P is for.. Population. The population of Morocco is about 31,900,000, and population density is about 185 people per square mile.

Q is for... Queen. The queen of Morocco is Lalla (princess) Salma, the first wife of a Moroccan rule to be given a royal title.


R is for... Rabat, the capital of Morocco.

S is for... Sahara. An area of about 103,000 square miles in the South of Morocco is disputed territory with Mauritania. Referring to this area as disputed territory is an EXTREMELY touchy issue however. According to Moroccans, the Sahara belongs to Morocco, unconditionally.


T is for... Tajine, (rhymes with D'Jeane). The name of a clay pot used to cook a variety of delicious dished. Tubkal, the highest Mountain in North Africa, located in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco.


U is for... University. The worlds oldest continually-operating university is located in Fes. The Karaouine was founded in the 9th century by a woman named Fatima.


V is for... Video protests. On the 20th of February 2011, several young Moroccans posted videos on YouTube demanding, “equality, social justice, employment, housing, study grants and higher salaries”. The king, aware of the results of similar protests across the region, addressed the issues almost immediately. This prevented the protests from escalating.



W is for... “Wuzen” or the “root” of an Arabic word, usually composed of three letters. For instance the word love is “hib” but to say I love is “Uh-Hib”. In order to look up a word in the dictionary, you must know it's “Wuzen” or root.

X is for... eXtra wives. A man here is allowed to marry up to four women here, but only upon their consent.

Y is for... “Yalla!” An Arabic word meaning “Let's go” or “Hurry up”.

Z is for... Zip Code. Ask me what it is and send me something! (Kidding. I just didn't know what else to put for Z).

Photos from Ireland

Saint Patricks Day Parade 


Cliffs of Moher







Puffin Picture in the Interpretative Center 


Dublin News Office

(Probably) The Worlds Smallest Pub

Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Luck of the Irish

DISCLAIMER: Ok, I really do not want this to be "I spent my spring break in a beautiful country and life was SOOO hard, woe is me". I don't like to complain about travel, partly because I love and partly because no one wants to hear someone whine about their fabulous experiences.

However.... Let is be noted that Ireland is a country with a tragic history: famine, oppression, civil war, economic depression, an entire county that thinks they're better off with Great Britain. Irish news, music, even the people themselves have this sort of cynical: "yes, that WOULD happen to us" type attitude. "Luck of the Irish" is said there with great sarcasm. This was my luck of the Irish.

-We had to stand in the immigration line for two hours in London, making us miss our hostel booking (the place had closed for the night- Who does that!). Since our next flight wasn't until the next afternoon, we got another, much more expensive place. Unbeknownst to me, I was still charged for the first booking. Opps.

-We were supposed to meet up with friends for St. Patricks Day so they could stay with us. We never found them, and they ended up taking a four hour bus ride to Cork to find a place to stay. I hope they are still our friends.

-I got a little water on my computer, and it wasn't working. So I took it to the apple store to see what the problem was. Turns out the water ruined my computer, which isn't covered by my warranty. I had to buy a new computer, which blew my budget for the rest of the semester.

-I had my wallet stolen while in a pub. I only lost ten euros, but my drivers license and debit cards need to be replaced, which will take an indefinite amount of time to get them shipped here.

-I missed my flight at 6:30am this morning. Apparently daylight savings time is on the 25th of March in Ireland. I go to check into my flight at 5:22, and was informed that it was actually 6:25, and my plane had just left. I had to borrow money I don't have to rebook the flight. Bugger.

On the PLUS side.. I spent Saint Patricks Day in Dublin. I got to eat Irish Breakfast, with extra bacon. I saw the coast, which is beautiful and rugged and wild-feeling. People were so polite and and friendly. The beer was tasty, the music fun and the pubs exciting. I felt at home in the countryside with the farm-smells and green, open countryside. And now I have great stories of being lost, broke, and I'll admit, occasionally a little bit dumb. Live and learn. It's the luck of the Irish!

Photos coming soon!

Monday, March 12, 2012

Slaama-Alaykum (Hello)


I feel in the course of my blogging I’ve left out a few essential elements of this experience, or only mentioned them briefly when they really deserve a full entry. Therefore, I’m going to make the effort today to talk about the Arabic Language and why I choose to study it. Here are a few fun facts about the Arabic Language:

- There are several “types” of Arabic: Classical Arabic, the language of the Q’ran (the holy book of Islam), Modern Standard Arabic, which is the official language of 22 counties- This is what I am learning, and what most Arabic newspapers and books are written in. Additionally, there are Arabic dialects that differ vastly from region to region. Moroccan Arabic is nearly incomprehensible to someone who speaks Iraqi Arabic. In Morocco, classical Arabic is known as “Fus-ha” and everyday Arabic is known as “Da-ree-ja”

- There are 28 letters and various symbols in the Arabic alphabet, some of which have no English equivalent. A chart of the alphabet is below. As you can see, one single dot can make a big difference! 



-Arabic is written right to left, and the letters connect to one another depending on the letter that precedes them. There is no “cursive” or “print” script, since letters are connected basically the same way weather they are typed or handwritten.

-Arabic calligraphy is some of the most beautiful writing in the world. Since most Muslims believe that icons (images of animals or people) should not be in places of worship, holy sites are decorated with passages from the Q’ran written in beautiful script. 





-When Arabic words are pronounced, they include short vowel sounds such as “a, e and o”. These vowels care called the “fat-ha” “Damma” and “Kasra”. When words are written, these vowels are usually left out. To use an English example that is like printing the word “cat” without the “a”- it could be pronounced cat, cut, or cet. Part of learning Arabic is learning to read the words in the context to understand the meaning.


As this is now my third semester of language class, I’ve started to grasp most basic words and grammatical structures. I can communicate simple concepts and talk about myself and my family. Studying the language is both fun and frustrating, and an accomplishment that I am quite proud of. My time here has encouraged me to continue studying this beautiful language.  

My Homework