Lost in Translation: My Journey in Jeddah

 

 by Sajish Gopalan

As an expat in Jeddah, I had slowly been adapting to life in this vibrant city. The warm, welcoming culture, the enchanting blend of tradition and modernity – it was all becoming more familiar to me. However, amidst the growing comfort, one formidable barrier remained: the Arabic language. It was a hurdle I had yet to fully overcome.

One day, a simple task unveiled the extent of my language struggles. The task? Visiting a bank just behind my office. Seemingly straightforward, right? Armed with a picture of the bank, I hailed a taxi driven by a Sudanese gentleman. In my best attempt, I clearly enunciated my destination: "Saudi National Bank." Yet, as I soon discovered, pronunciation issues could be my downfall.

The driver, attentive but clearly perplexed, led me astray. We ventured through winding streets and distant neighborhoods, arriving at a shop that bore no resemblance to a bank. Frustration built as I realized that our communication was hopelessly muddled. My last resort was my phone, where I showed him a picture of the bank building. Finally comprehending, he adjusted his course and we embarked on yet another journey. This time, however, the destination was a baffling 15 kilometers away from my office – a bank branch that was a mere 15-minute walk from where I worked.

My bank misadventure was just the tip of the linguistic iceberg. Another comical incident unfolded during a visit to a local restaurant in pursuit of a shawarma. I approached the counter and, holding up the menu, pointed to a picture of a shawarma roll. The counter girl, with a quizzical expression, fired off a question in Arabic that I couldn't decipher. The restaurant staff, equally mystified by my predicament, offered no assistance. Our language barrier seemed insurmountable.

Minutes ticked by, my frustration mounting, until the counter girl disappeared behind the kitchen doors. My hopes dwindled, thinking she had given up on serving me. To my surprise, she returned, not with food, but with a scale. With a flourish, she pointed at the scale, then at various sizes on the menu. It finally dawned on me that she was inquiring about the size of the shawarma I desired.

Relief washed over me like a warm breeze in the Arabian night. In that moment, I realized the kindness and patience of the people I had encountered in Jeddah. They were willing to go to great lengths to understand and assist a foreigner like me, struggling with their language.

From that day forward, I devised a new strategy. Whenever I ventured into Arabic restaurants or shops, I would dial the phone and contact my Arabic-speaking colleagues. I would explain my needs to them, and they would kindly convey my requests to the local staff. It was a testament to the power of communication, bridging the gap between cultures and languages.

 As I reflected on these humorous and heartwarming experiences, I knew one thing for certain: my journey in Jeddah would be incomplete without mastering the Arabic language. In the midst of these linguistic misadventures, I had discovered that the beauty of this city lay not just in its architecture and cuisine but also in the generosity and understanding of its people. And so, with renewed determination, I resolved to conquer my language barriers and truly become a part of this wonderful community, learning Arabic to navigate the vibrant tapestry of Jeddah with confidence and grace.