I used to love this ventriloquist named Jeff Dunham... not literally, I just loved his act. He's really funny and his puppets are so lifelike. But when he introduced a new character, a Halloween skeleton to which he had attached a turban and the name "Achmed the Dead Terrorist" I was horrified. The new puppet, from its fake Middle Eastern accent, to its thick eyebrows and back story (being a dead suicide bomber) was the literal embodiment of every horrible Arab stereotype. I didn't want to watch the segment, but my ex pulled the "why are you always so up-tight" card so I stayed and I watched it. And I laughed, hard. It was hilarious.
A few weeks later one of my favorite radio stations did a 30 second sound bite joke: a call-in to a suicide bomber hotline, where instead of talking you out of killing yourself, they talk you into it. Also hilarious.
I felt guilty for thinking so. I hate (really really really) hate stereotyping, generalizations and any conception that allows you to categorize a diverse number of unique individuals into a faceless group. For me, one of the hardest parts of coming to the Arab world was getting to know the wonderful people here and realizing how wrong our perceptions of them in the U.S. are, and as I've discussed before, how wrong theirs are of us. The gap of understanding between the world I'm living in and the one I came from is so big and so empty that it defies words, even for me. So how can it possibly be okay to joke about it?
But lately I've started to think I had it backwards. Comedy acts like Jeff Dunham's dead terrorist, or the Axis of Evil comedy tour don't reinforce the stereotypes that divide the West from the East, they mock them. They highlight how utterly ridiculous they are, and we laugh because we realize how stupid and outrageous those perceptions have become. And laughing, that's healthy. Especially when both sides are laughing at the same thing. If we can leave behind our American or Arab identities for even one minute to be able to laugh at the same thing- even if that thing is the ridiculous misconceptions and stereotypes we have about one another- then maybe, for that one minute, we have something in common. And maybe we'll realize it.
Maybe, in that one minute those "other" people in that stereotyped group will become just like us. Sharing a joke. Its not much to have in common, but you have to start somewhere.
So I have changed my position. I think its okay to laugh. I think its good to laugh. I think maybe, if politicians and journalists and economists and definitely terrorists laughed more we'd be a hell of a lot better off than we are today.
So here's my challenge to you. I'm posting three videos. The first one is Jeff Dunham's Achmed the Dead Terrorist, discussed above. The second one is the Axis of Evil Comedy Tour's Maz Jiobrani. He is an Iranian American comedian who has succeeded in making both Middle Eastern and American audiences cry they were laughing so hard. Not to brag or anything but he'll be in Amman next week and guess who's got tickets... ha ha! Anyway, the third is a video my (Jordanian) friend filmed last semester with an American kid who was in my program.
The first video is apretty straight forward example of us laughing at our perceptions of them. And believe me they can laugh at it too, they think that puppet is hilarious. The second one makes light of situations and problems that impact us both. The third one is the challenge. It is basically Jordanians making fun of American fear and ignorance of the Arab world. Its a spoof of a terrorist hostage ransom tape. The "terrorists" are two of my very good friends - their names are Yezan and Khalil, holding fake machine guns in front of a Jordanian flag- (not a Palestinian flag which doesn't have a white star). They are not speaking Arabic, they're speaking gibberish and the kid they've got on his knees is laughing.
So lets see - can we laugh at ourselves? Can we laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing has gotten and how completely crazy and unfounded our fear has become? I hope so. Enjoy.
Love you all!
Caddie
P.S. - I'm rating these videos R, just a heads up
Video 1: Achmed! The Dead Terrorist
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uwOL4rB-go
Video 2: Maz Jobrani, Axis of Evil Commedy Tour:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYlaIxNX01Q
Video 3: Yezan and Khalil, being the crazy shabab they are
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=533149033489&subj=20013394
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Here's to Arabic
I apologize in advance, because today's post will probably leave some of you either bored or bewildered. If you find yourself feeling either of these things after reading the first sentence, feel free to stop reading, it won't hurt my feelings.
But let me explain myself. In about a minute, I'm going to make the argument that learning a new language is a lot like dating a new person. It is my guess that I'll loose about half of you because you've been married for like 150 years (just kidding, but a long time, lots of happy marriages in my family- that's a good thing) and you don't remember much about dating a new person. The other half of you, though you may have started dating someone recently, probably haven't started a new language since middle or early high school and may not remember what its like. So you, dear reader, probably don't have much to relate to in this post. But, even if you don't, maybe you should stick around, because if you did either or both of these things a long time ago, this post could evoke long buried memories and you might still enjoy it. Either way, this is my blog and if, every once in a while, I want to use it as my own personal diary and ramble to my little heart's content about my wonderful, beautiful, evil, infuriating boyfriend (Arabic), I'm going to do that. And for those of you that have dated someone new and started a new language recently- read on because seriously- the two experiences are so similar!
So when you start learning your first new language it's like falling in love for the first time. Every new thing you learn is so exciting and interesting and cool. It seems so beautiful and so perfect. That's how it was when I was learning Spanish, and, really, it wasn't so different when I started learning Arabic either. You just can't wait to know more.
But then, things start to get serious. You start to commit to the language. You start to realize how complicated the language actually is. This is both good and bad. Its still exciting and with your first language you're usually optimistic. As you know more of the language, like with a new person, it becomes more and more your own. You're proud of it. Like, oh, yeah, that hot guy over there, he's with me. Oh, yeah, that beautiful language someone walking by was just speaking, I understood that. Its cool. But its also hard. You have days where you think its just impossible and that you're never going to become fluent (not sure what the allegorical dating equivalent of that would be... married?) and where you just want to quit. And sometimes you do. Or sometimes you hit a wall and its just over (for example, high school ends and you stop taking classes). And you're sad. And you miss the language. And then you start to forget it and that makes you sad too.
But, maybe, some time passes and you meet a new language, Arabic, or whatever. And, like the first, Spanish for me, its beautiful and exciting. But this time, you've been hurt before, and so you're a little more careful. Nevertheless, you jump in and you start dating Arabic. You're less optimistic, but you also commit sooner because you're older now and you've done this before. And, I swear, this is exactly like dating, you start to compare your new language to your old language. You're thinking, "Oh, that's not how Spanish would have done that, that's not what Spanish would have said, Spanish would have thought that was funny..." and, I'm not kidding, that actually makes you sad. You literally miss the old language, because it had become familiar and you understood it and, damn it, you have to pee and you would have known how to ask where the bathroom was in Spanish!
But, with time you start to understand Arabic more and more, and you actually start to forget Spanish. You stop throwing small Spanish words into otherwise Arabic sentences (okay, that part doesn't really translate to dating). Then, one day, you're in love and happy again! Unfortunately, studying Arabic is somewhat like dating a guy with emotional baggage, a crazy family and a drinking problem, so I haven't actually gotten to that last stage yet. But I'm telling myself I will so I don't go crazy.
Or (and this is probably the conclusion you have reached if by some miracle you're still reading this) studying Arabic 30+ hours a week and still getting yelled at for not practicing enough has, in fact, made me crazy and that's why I just spent half an hour comparing linguistic study to dating.
Crazy or not, its ridiculous that I've spent this much time thinking about this. But Arabic is such a huge part of my life here it is almost impossible not to think about it this much. Anyway, because Arabic is such a hard, beautiful, complicated, amazing language and it is such an important part of my life right now, I really think it would be wrong not to have at least one blog post dedicated to it. So here's to you, Arabic. I love you and I really really really hate you.
Loooove (Aheeeebik in Arabic),
Caddie
But let me explain myself. In about a minute, I'm going to make the argument that learning a new language is a lot like dating a new person. It is my guess that I'll loose about half of you because you've been married for like 150 years (just kidding, but a long time, lots of happy marriages in my family- that's a good thing) and you don't remember much about dating a new person. The other half of you, though you may have started dating someone recently, probably haven't started a new language since middle or early high school and may not remember what its like. So you, dear reader, probably don't have much to relate to in this post. But, even if you don't, maybe you should stick around, because if you did either or both of these things a long time ago, this post could evoke long buried memories and you might still enjoy it. Either way, this is my blog and if, every once in a while, I want to use it as my own personal diary and ramble to my little heart's content about my wonderful, beautiful, evil, infuriating boyfriend (Arabic), I'm going to do that. And for those of you that have dated someone new and started a new language recently- read on because seriously- the two experiences are so similar!
So when you start learning your first new language it's like falling in love for the first time. Every new thing you learn is so exciting and interesting and cool. It seems so beautiful and so perfect. That's how it was when I was learning Spanish, and, really, it wasn't so different when I started learning Arabic either. You just can't wait to know more.
But then, things start to get serious. You start to commit to the language. You start to realize how complicated the language actually is. This is both good and bad. Its still exciting and with your first language you're usually optimistic. As you know more of the language, like with a new person, it becomes more and more your own. You're proud of it. Like, oh, yeah, that hot guy over there, he's with me. Oh, yeah, that beautiful language someone walking by was just speaking, I understood that. Its cool. But its also hard. You have days where you think its just impossible and that you're never going to become fluent (not sure what the allegorical dating equivalent of that would be... married?) and where you just want to quit. And sometimes you do. Or sometimes you hit a wall and its just over (for example, high school ends and you stop taking classes). And you're sad. And you miss the language. And then you start to forget it and that makes you sad too.
But, maybe, some time passes and you meet a new language, Arabic, or whatever. And, like the first, Spanish for me, its beautiful and exciting. But this time, you've been hurt before, and so you're a little more careful. Nevertheless, you jump in and you start dating Arabic. You're less optimistic, but you also commit sooner because you're older now and you've done this before. And, I swear, this is exactly like dating, you start to compare your new language to your old language. You're thinking, "Oh, that's not how Spanish would have done that, that's not what Spanish would have said, Spanish would have thought that was funny..." and, I'm not kidding, that actually makes you sad. You literally miss the old language, because it had become familiar and you understood it and, damn it, you have to pee and you would have known how to ask where the bathroom was in Spanish!
But, with time you start to understand Arabic more and more, and you actually start to forget Spanish. You stop throwing small Spanish words into otherwise Arabic sentences (okay, that part doesn't really translate to dating). Then, one day, you're in love and happy again! Unfortunately, studying Arabic is somewhat like dating a guy with emotional baggage, a crazy family and a drinking problem, so I haven't actually gotten to that last stage yet. But I'm telling myself I will so I don't go crazy.
Or (and this is probably the conclusion you have reached if by some miracle you're still reading this) studying Arabic 30+ hours a week and still getting yelled at for not practicing enough has, in fact, made me crazy and that's why I just spent half an hour comparing linguistic study to dating.
Crazy or not, its ridiculous that I've spent this much time thinking about this. But Arabic is such a huge part of my life here it is almost impossible not to think about it this much. Anyway, because Arabic is such a hard, beautiful, complicated, amazing language and it is such an important part of my life right now, I really think it would be wrong not to have at least one blog post dedicated to it. So here's to you, Arabic. I love you and I really really really hate you.
Loooove (Aheeeebik in Arabic),
Caddie
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The Two Sided Mirror
One of the biggest challenges of being an international affairs major (and a human being) is attempting to break out of the egocentric mindset that allows you to believe that your own way of thinking is the only way of thinking. I have spent the last two or three years of my life actively trying to do that.
But clearly, I have failed. Because, though I've spent copious amounts of time, energy and research looking at how and why Americans perceive the Arabs, it had never once, until very recently occurred to me to take a closer look at how Arabs perceive Americans. International affairs, more particularly foreign policy, through the American perspective is a one sided mirror. We only consider how we look at the world, how we impact the world, how we act on the world. We don't really talk about how they see us. And that includes me.
But a few days ago the topic came up in class. One of my Jordanian professors asked us what people on the street talk to us about and what that says about their perceptions of us. Politically, the answers aren't all that interesting. They pretty much universally hate Bush and universally adore Obama. And they expect you to agree with them on that or you may have problems. There is also a weirdly widely held belief that 9/11 was perpetrated by the U.S. government. There was a quasi-compelling documentary called Loose Change made a few years ago that made that argument and it must have been really popular in the Arab world because I've heard this from multiple people. And forget arguing with them, they're pretty sure about this.
But anyway, Arabs, again almost universally, also have no problem separating the American people from their government. And their perceptions of us as a people are very interesting.
They tend to think that America is an epicenter of technology, education and wealth. But they also see us as morally corrupted. Which basically means they watch western TV shows, particularly soap operas and draw their conclusions about American societal values from there. But their reactions to their perception of our culture aren't condescending or disgusted. Its more like they pity us. They think we lead sad, empty lives, with no real familial or religious connections and they feel bad for us. Frequent questions about home include things like: "How many people do you know that had babies when they were 16?" "Are your parents divorced, do you come from a broken home?" "Does your dad make you pay him to live in his house?" Or other such ridiculousness.
In Arab culture, its pretty common for families of three generations to all live together. Male children, if they're unmarried sometimes don't leave their parents home until their late 30s or early 40s. Female children are very strongly discouraged from leaving home at all if they are unmarried and their parents are still alive. The American emphasis on leaving home and establishing independence at a young age shocks them, not unlike the way the hijab (head covering) shocks us.
A study (http://www.mafhoum.com/press10/290C31.pdf) about Arab perceptions of American society was conducted at the University of Jordan (where I go to school) of 10,000 respondents and the results pretty much supported what we had experienced among our friends and host families. It was also interesting to see that the results showed that most Arabs don't see their world and ours in terms of religious or cultural tension and they definitely don't believe in Huntington's Clash of Civilizations. Their problems with the west are purely political and their perceptions of the American people are much more ambivalent than we would probably guess. And, at least for the vast majority of them, their perceptions of Americans don't stop them from following up the inevitable "where are you from?" with an exclamation of "Ah! You are most welcome from America!"
And sorry, but I always feel compelled to respond in kind, so we may or may not have a couple hundred Jordanian taxi drivers and shopkeepers visiting us in the U.S. in the future on my invitation.
But clearly, I have failed. Because, though I've spent copious amounts of time, energy and research looking at how and why Americans perceive the Arabs, it had never once, until very recently occurred to me to take a closer look at how Arabs perceive Americans. International affairs, more particularly foreign policy, through the American perspective is a one sided mirror. We only consider how we look at the world, how we impact the world, how we act on the world. We don't really talk about how they see us. And that includes me.
But a few days ago the topic came up in class. One of my Jordanian professors asked us what people on the street talk to us about and what that says about their perceptions of us. Politically, the answers aren't all that interesting. They pretty much universally hate Bush and universally adore Obama. And they expect you to agree with them on that or you may have problems. There is also a weirdly widely held belief that 9/11 was perpetrated by the U.S. government. There was a quasi-compelling documentary called Loose Change made a few years ago that made that argument and it must have been really popular in the Arab world because I've heard this from multiple people. And forget arguing with them, they're pretty sure about this.
But anyway, Arabs, again almost universally, also have no problem separating the American people from their government. And their perceptions of us as a people are very interesting.
They tend to think that America is an epicenter of technology, education and wealth. But they also see us as morally corrupted. Which basically means they watch western TV shows, particularly soap operas and draw their conclusions about American societal values from there. But their reactions to their perception of our culture aren't condescending or disgusted. Its more like they pity us. They think we lead sad, empty lives, with no real familial or religious connections and they feel bad for us. Frequent questions about home include things like: "How many people do you know that had babies when they were 16?" "Are your parents divorced, do you come from a broken home?" "Does your dad make you pay him to live in his house?" Or other such ridiculousness.
In Arab culture, its pretty common for families of three generations to all live together. Male children, if they're unmarried sometimes don't leave their parents home until their late 30s or early 40s. Female children are very strongly discouraged from leaving home at all if they are unmarried and their parents are still alive. The American emphasis on leaving home and establishing independence at a young age shocks them, not unlike the way the hijab (head covering) shocks us.
A study (http://www.mafhoum.com/press10/290C31.pdf) about Arab perceptions of American society was conducted at the University of Jordan (where I go to school) of 10,000 respondents and the results pretty much supported what we had experienced among our friends and host families. It was also interesting to see that the results showed that most Arabs don't see their world and ours in terms of religious or cultural tension and they definitely don't believe in Huntington's Clash of Civilizations. Their problems with the west are purely political and their perceptions of the American people are much more ambivalent than we would probably guess. And, at least for the vast majority of them, their perceptions of Americans don't stop them from following up the inevitable "where are you from?" with an exclamation of "Ah! You are most welcome from America!"
And sorry, but I always feel compelled to respond in kind, so we may or may not have a couple hundred Jordanian taxi drivers and shopkeepers visiting us in the U.S. in the future on my invitation.
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