At Media Women Forum, my position requires me to make connections with ambassadors, ministers, other nongovernmental organizations, representatives from various embassies and other organizations of the like. Usually, I try to communicate MWF's work and open the door for possible partnerships and funding opportunities. Most of this occurs during the work day at the office, lunch meetings or during visits to other organizations, but also at parties and dinners that tend to take place during the weekends. I usually meet some very interesting people during these events and have been able to forge relationships (especially with women) that would not have otherwise been feasible. Therefore, I can’t complain too much about the effort it takes for me to look past the discomfort that commonly crowds these scenarios.
The people who attend these parties often know two or three other people there which means they must forge out and make conversation with unknowns, but always accompanied by an agenda. It’s the agenda, the air of pretentiousness, and the awkward mingling reminiscent of a middle school dance floor during a slow song which summons my apprehension. Thankfully, for the sake of my job, I can gracefully navigate through these social situations without incurring too much damage along the way. Unfortunately, for every interesting individual at these functions there tend to be two or more not so time worthy folks who want nothing, but your time.
Last night, I got stuck in an interaction with a not so time worthy gentlemen, though thankfully not for too long as I am also well equipped with a variety of exit strategies well suited for an array of unique social entrapments. The man in question held a significant role at the Turkish Embassy and has been in Yemen for three months, but lived in Syria for three years prior to. He was telling me about how it was very difficult for him to make relationships with the Yemeni community. He also asked me basic questions a foreigner would ask, such as “am I paying too much for my apartment,” which he is by the way, by about double.
The conversation went on like this and I asked him how his Arabic was. In Yemen, a lot depends on who you know so if he was unable to barter with his renter he would need to have a Yemeni friend or even acquaintance help him out. He told me he was intermediate in fous-ha and was taking lessons as it would further his career goals, but had no interest in learning spoken Arabic.
For those who are unaware, written Arabic (known as fous-ha) is a different language than spoken Arabic (colloquial) and depending on which country you are in, spoken Arabic changes quite drastically. For instance, when I speak in a Palestinian dialect in Yemen no one understands a word I’m saying. There are even different dialects within the different regions of Yemen.
How someone can live in Syria for three years (a country where English is still not prevalent) and not be at least intermediate in spoken Arabic is beyond me. Though frankly, for the amount of time he spent there and the nature of his position he should be fluent by now. Hearing him say that he had no interest in learning the spoken dialect was when I pulled out exit strategy number 57, join the Yemeni women in the Sanani dances taking place which was made conveniently easy when Menal, one of the women there, offered me her hand right as the conversation took the plummet. However, I had to fight my urge to pull out exit strategy number 11, put to use those kickboxing skills I’ve been teaching the girls here.
This is a prime example of how many of the bigger organizations that are blessed with a significant amount of money, power, and influence, are so disconnected from the society they intend to help. NGOs have their issues, but not understanding the people isn’t one of them. No wonder he doesn’t have any Yemeni friends or connections and no wonder he’s overpaying for his apartment and who knows what else. Language is a portal, a door, a connection. How can he expect to really understand Yemen, its people and its various problems if he can’t even speak the language?
Educated people who have no excuse to possess this degree of ignorance are much more prevalent than I would like to admit and their ethnicities are international. Knowing that these people exist in such great numbers is beyond disappointing, but helps me understand why many foreign organizations, despite their desire to aid the population at hand, are often welcomed with apprehension by the natives.
The people who attend these parties often know two or three other people there which means they must forge out and make conversation with unknowns, but always accompanied by an agenda. It’s the agenda, the air of pretentiousness, and the awkward mingling reminiscent of a middle school dance floor during a slow song which summons my apprehension. Thankfully, for the sake of my job, I can gracefully navigate through these social situations without incurring too much damage along the way. Unfortunately, for every interesting individual at these functions there tend to be two or more not so time worthy folks who want nothing, but your time.
Last night, I got stuck in an interaction with a not so time worthy gentlemen, though thankfully not for too long as I am also well equipped with a variety of exit strategies well suited for an array of unique social entrapments. The man in question held a significant role at the Turkish Embassy and has been in Yemen for three months, but lived in Syria for three years prior to. He was telling me about how it was very difficult for him to make relationships with the Yemeni community. He also asked me basic questions a foreigner would ask, such as “am I paying too much for my apartment,” which he is by the way, by about double.
The conversation went on like this and I asked him how his Arabic was. In Yemen, a lot depends on who you know so if he was unable to barter with his renter he would need to have a Yemeni friend or even acquaintance help him out. He told me he was intermediate in fous-ha and was taking lessons as it would further his career goals, but had no interest in learning spoken Arabic.
For those who are unaware, written Arabic (known as fous-ha) is a different language than spoken Arabic (colloquial) and depending on which country you are in, spoken Arabic changes quite drastically. For instance, when I speak in a Palestinian dialect in Yemen no one understands a word I’m saying. There are even different dialects within the different regions of Yemen.
How someone can live in Syria for three years (a country where English is still not prevalent) and not be at least intermediate in spoken Arabic is beyond me. Though frankly, for the amount of time he spent there and the nature of his position he should be fluent by now. Hearing him say that he had no interest in learning the spoken dialect was when I pulled out exit strategy number 57, join the Yemeni women in the Sanani dances taking place which was made conveniently easy when Menal, one of the women there, offered me her hand right as the conversation took the plummet. However, I had to fight my urge to pull out exit strategy number 11, put to use those kickboxing skills I’ve been teaching the girls here.
This is a prime example of how many of the bigger organizations that are blessed with a significant amount of money, power, and influence, are so disconnected from the society they intend to help. NGOs have their issues, but not understanding the people isn’t one of them. No wonder he doesn’t have any Yemeni friends or connections and no wonder he’s overpaying for his apartment and who knows what else. Language is a portal, a door, a connection. How can he expect to really understand Yemen, its people and its various problems if he can’t even speak the language?
Educated people who have no excuse to possess this degree of ignorance are much more prevalent than I would like to admit and their ethnicities are international. Knowing that these people exist in such great numbers is beyond disappointing, but helps me understand why many foreign organizations, despite their desire to aid the population at hand, are often welcomed with apprehension by the natives.
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