where do you think i'm from?

So, I learned today that I have a fascination with being nationality-ambiguous.  By that, I mean that when people ask me, "Where are you from?" I answer, "Where do you think I'm from?"  Walking around the Medina today, I was talking with two kids, the oldest of whom, Mustapha, was probably about 6 (they were being my guides, and afterwards demanded payment for their services, which I expected and was more than willing to offer them each a few of the government's dirham – they were nice enough kids, and I think they really did consider themselves to be doing a job for me.  And they did help me get out of the Medina.  I digress.).  Anyhow, after I started speaking to Mustapha in Modern Standard Arabic with a little Darija thrown in (I use Darija when I can, but for speaking proficiency, I am more comfortable to speak quickly in MSA), he asked me, "Are you Saudi?"

Now, while a good chunk of this can be understood from the fact that a) Saudis often do learn very good MSA and use it abroad instead of their dialect, and b) this kid is 6, I thought it was an amazing compliment.  I laughed for a minute, and said, "Do you really think I'm from Saudi Arabia?"  I then explained I was American, and talked to him for a while about the view (I was trying to figure out where the Mediterranean ended and the Atlantic began, but Mustapha's knowledge of oceanography was about what I would expect from someone asking a 6 year old me in bad English about which mountain was which in Colorado), as well as his school (his favorite subject is the Qur'an al-Karim – the holy Qur'an – and he is beginning to learn the Surat, but he hasn't gotten to my favorite yet, which is Surat al-'alaq, the Sura of the blood clot or embryo, which describes how the world was created).  His brother, Josaif (normally, Joseph in Arabic is Yusuf, so I kept getting this poor kid's name wrong) kept pretty quiet during this, and I think was a little freaked out by the three white guys trying to speak to him.  I don't blame him.  Anyhow, I guess the main gist of this story is just that I felt really good about being mistaken for a form of an Arab (albeit by a 6 year old), as, even if my language skills still seem to be incredibly lacking, it was a good reminder that MSA is kind of a second language to all of its speakers, and being able to communicate is far more important than knowing exactly what's going on grammatically.

Later, getting ice cream (pistachio ice cream and yoghurt are the best things ever and they are everywhere and are cheap and I love it), the guy asked myself, Matt, and Daniel where we were from, and after going through about 30 European nationalities (including some I had never really thought of being confused for, like Finnish... I guess there are enough Finns abroad to be confused for one), before he gave up and we told him we were American.  He was pretty surprised that Americans were trying their hand at Arabic.  Well, I suppose this program is (re-)building goodwill abroad, one Moroccan at a time, right?

As a final note to this post, here's an article that Megan brought to my attention today when I skyped her (as always, skype dates are welcome).  

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/20/world/middleeast/20inshallah.html?ref=world

It's about the use of ان شاء الله (In Sha' Allah – If God wills it) in Cairene street slang.  Not that I'm in Cairo or anything, but I thought it was a) interesting, and b) pretty much what I must sound like to anyone else.  Everything I say is followed with an ان شاء الله or الحمد الله (Alhamdullah, thanks be to God), or ما شاء الله (Ma sha' Allah, what God wishes) pretty much all the time.  Next time I answer the phone, stop me if I go into the Shahada.  I think I should still probably be avoiding using that one too much...