Yesterday, someone asked me what the Arabic behind my head in my icon is. The picture was taken almost a year ago at work. There are two painted ceramic plates on the wall in my office at the university. I guess I've never paid two much attention to them. I feel like I am still in the Purgatory of intermediate Arabic. Yes, I lived in Jordan for a year. Yes, I can read a newspaper and easier literature. Yes, I use Arabic all the time for my research. That being said, it's just a tough row to hoe. I actually have to concentrate. Sometimes, I'm convinced I don't know a word of the language I've sweated blood learning. Even so, if someone asks about a plate on my office wall, the least I could do is take a peek. To my shock, it was immediately clear that one plate (the one you can see part of in the icon) is the "Our Father" prayer. In Jordan, I used to go to Mass sometimes to hear and read familiar texts in Arabic. I did the same in France and in Mexico. My father ז"ל was Catholic and I was raise in the Church. When I was in the army here in Israel, I went to Mass across the street from my base sometimes. It was an odd congregation made up of about half Arabs and half Vietnamese, with the liturgy in both languages - and sometimes, in Latin which evoked my pre-Vatican II boyhood when Latin was still the language of the Catholic liturgy. I made friends with the parish priest there, a young Franciscan from Egypt. He loved to sing and I gladly played the piano.


Here's what the text of the Our Father looks like when it's not in fancy calligraphy:

Here, you can hear the Our Father read in Arabic.

Great! One mystery down and one to go. Here's the second plate:



In Jordan, I developed a habit of reading the Quran outloud a little bit each day and I try to keep that up even now. I am not a Muslim. Rather, my goal is just to improve my reading skills. Since the Qur'an is fully voweled (unlike, say, the newspaper), this is much easier - kind of like having training wheels on my Arabic bicycle. I also want to become more literate in Arabic and that includes becoming at least somewhat conversant with Islam's primary text. With my poor eyesight, it was a pleasure to find an edition in such a large font. I decided to start at the end because from surah (chapter) 90 to the end (Surah 114) none is more than 20 verses long, so rather manageable even for someone as dyslexic as me. By chance, this afternoon I was on the last page of the Qur'an, reading the last three surahs. Then, I looked at the photos of the ceramic plates I took at work this morning. The text on the second plate is the 112th chapter, Surah Ikhlas, which is all of only four verses long - which is how the whole chapter fits on a plate.


Honestly, the Qur'an doesn't normally come with a ruler, but I just wanted to show how large the edition I have is. Surah 112 (the upper box) reads:

"Say: He is Allah, The One and Only;
Allah, the Eternal, Absolute;
He begets not, Nor is He begotten;
And there is none like unto Him."

After work, I went to look at photos at the Museum of the Diaspora. Then, I took the train home, listened to the Smothers Brothers and napped a bit. Just before 8 pm, I jumped into town to meet Nico for dinner. Her colleague, Marcello joined us. The meal itself was quite good if, apparently, not authentically Italian. We shared a huge salad and freshly baked bread. Nico had salmon, Marcello chose spaghetti with eggplant and I had spaghetti with garlic, olive oil, garlic, mushrooms and garlic. Dessert was espresso and a creamy, chocolately concoction. What made the evening so nice was the great company and conversation. Reluctantly, we parted about midnight.

Ciao!

Tags: arabic, ceramics, italian, our father, purgatory, surah ikhlas
Current Mood: rejuvenated
Current Music: Alex Ubago: Ahora que no estas