How I learned about Arabic Culture

As you can see from my life as it is now, I have been living around Arabs for a while. In Jerusalem, then Jaffa, in Sinai, and in Dubai. When I first decided to look into the Arabic culture I thought to myself, what’s the best way to learn? Immersion. Who is it best to learn from? The people.

OLD CITY JERUSALEM

It was 2013, I had been divorced for a year, my father had passed away, and I had no prospects for a second marriage even though I was relatively young and childless. It seemed like the only thing matchmakers saw when they looked at me was a red blinking sign above my head reading “CONVERT”.

I was still religious, still dressing religiously, and I was still wearing a wig on my head like a married religious woman. Divorced women often have a hard time finding a place as the community and the rituals are so men-centric. I did my best but wasn’t having any luck. So I decided to go in the opposite direction. Anything Jewish was especially hard for me as it made me think about my holy father and I would end up at people’s Shabbat tables trying to keep my tears hidden as I saw the father at the head of the table bless his children on Friday nights, as is the custom for religious men. I was so tired of having to fight away the tears. I wanted to be somewhere where I didn’t have to feel so much. I craved to be numb. Even walking down the street and seeing 4-year-old boys on the way to school made me think of lost time and about a life I could not share with my ex-husband.

So I decided to look at the opposite side of me, the part I’d practically hidden. I wandered into the old city of Jerusalem but this time instead of veering to the right of David’s Citadel I continued straight into the souk of the Christian Quarter.

I didn’t want it to look like I was looking for something specific, because I wasn’t. But I needn’t worry, the famous Arab hospitality came quickly and fast with the shopowners and I was seated and given some water and was engaged in conversation before I knew it.

They knew I was Jewish by the skirt that I wore but they tried to sell me their wares and when I made it known I wasn’t interested in buying, I was just browsing, they became even more friendly as I told them my story and asked about theirs. I went from shop to shop over a month period of time and talked to every single seller.

Did some of them shy away from me thinking I was a secret agent? Yes. Did some think I was a whore going into each shop for an hour at a time and then emerging just to go to the next shop? Also, very certainly, yes. I would frequent the shops, make friends, learn Arabic words, and try to understand their culture.

One man tried to speak to me about the Koran and gave me a copy. I tried reading it but the English translation was so hard to read I couldn’t get past the second page. I told him I wasn’t in the Old City to find religion. I had done that. I was here to find family.

Until I was banned from Israel in July 2022 I still frequented the Old City to walk to the Kotel (The Wailing Wall) and as I walk through the souk I still get smiles and waves from men who welcomed me all those years ago. The waves and smiles have subsided a lot over time when I learned who I could trust and who was not playing me and who was not trying to convert me to the Palestinian cause but there are still a few who have offered their help over the years and who I appreciate years later.

UNIVERSITY

I hadn’t gone to college or university after my year abroad in Israel. I had attended a Kosher culinary arts school in Jerusalem when I was 19 but I had not pursued anything else.

When I understood from the vendors in the Old City that there was a hospitality school run by the Swedish Church for the Arabs in the city I walked over there and inquired in person.

I was interested in the hospitality management side of the courses as I had already attended culinary school and I had been practically living in hotels from the age of 18 to the time I got married. I met with the Arab Christian headmaster and told him I was American and my father was Arab. He told me I was welcome. I started classes the next week. I was wearing jeans and had uncovered my hair at this point so the students had no reason to believe I was any different than them except for the fact that I did not speak any Arabic. I introduced myself to them by my Arabic name: Zomoruda Al-Bahraini.

When it came time for attendance before every class they would say first and last names. Until it was up to me, they would call out “Claire!” I asked them to call me Zomoruda but they refused. They knew my last name was Jewish and they knew who I was. The staff was told to call me by my first legal name and that was it. The headmaster was sure there would be a backlash if everyone knew I was really Jewish.

There were 2 other Arab American girls in the class who did not speak Arabic like me so we became friends trying to understand what was happening in the class. The textbooks were in English but the teachers all spoke in Arabic so we would just sit and listen and let the time pass.

After class, I would head over to the neighborhood of Beit Hanina in Jerusalem to attend Arabic classes with a woman the school had vouched for.

In the evenings I would walk to my Hebrew Ulpan class in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood. These students were much more Palestinian than the ones I attended University with. There was me and one other girl from Abu Ghosh who was dressed in western clothes and spoke more Hebrew than the rest. They detested having to learn Hebrew but knew that without this knowledge they would not be able to find good-paying jobs in Israel.

I eventually realized that no one in any of these places of learning was happy I was there and I made a quiet exit out the back door from these institutions.

SHISHA/ HOOKAH

I knew about smoking hookah from the bars in Central Jerusalem. They were served with the standard double apple flavor and I hated the smell. I would take a puff here and there and then never order it again until at least a year would pass.

As I was introduced to how Arabic men relaxed I was reintroduced to Shisha as something far better than the way Israelis serve it.

Shisha is available in countless flavors and in shisha pipes that can be quite beautiful. I found that my favorite flavor is cinnamon gum and it quickly became my favorite activity. I was introduced to a really amazing Shisha in Sinai. And then again in Dubai, I found a café that could make one head of shisha last for 4 hours straight and I was hooked. I had every meeting, and every date, and any time I wanted to just watch Netflix by myself- I would go to a shisha café and sit there for hours on end. I was addicted. I have an addictive personality! But then Covid came and smoking had to stop and I got over the withdrawal and now I appreciate the odd shisha but I am no longer using it like I used to.

But if you ever want to meet interesting people- go to a shisha café and talk to random strangers. I have met many interesting people that way. They’re always surprised to see a white girl whose idea of a perfect evening is Nana tea, Shisha, and a game of backgammon while watching the scenes of the street play out.

DATING

Yes, I dated Arab men. But that is for another post. There’s no surer way to understand someone than by dating them.