Poems

September is the time to read lots of poems, trying to find good ones to teach. Here is one of my favorites:

My childhood is a long way off

My old age is a long way off

My country, my exile, a long way off.

Tourist!

Give me your binoculars

Perhaps I might glimpse a hand or a handkerchief

In this world

Waving at me

Take my photographs as I weep

Crouching in my tatters on the steps of the hotel

Write on the back of the picture

“This is a poet from the East.”

Spread your handkerchief on the pavement

And sit beside me under this tender rain  

Let me disclose to you a great secret:

“Go dismiss all your guides

Throw to the mud…to the fire

All the notes and impressions you’ve written

Any old peasant in this land

Can tell you with two verses from our sad ‘Ataba songs

All the history of the East

As he rolls his cigarette in front of his tent.”

            Muhammad Al-Maghut (1987)

Other good poems

“Arabic Coffee,” a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye

Favorite Poems

and the favorite poem of all poetry teachers:

Poems – “Finding Poems for my Students” by Mohja Kahf

 

 

 

I am pleased to announce that my chapter “Teaching Paired Middle Eastern and Western Literary Texts” has been published

Risse, Marielle. 2020. “Teaching Paired Middle Eastern and Western Literary Texts.” Advancing English Language Education,  Wafa Zoghbor and Thomaï Alexiou (eds.). Dubai: Zayed University Press. 221-223.

“Teaching Paired Middle Eastern and Western Literary Texts” – This chapter focuses on a technique which increases students’ participation, creativity and analytical ability in literature and language classrooms. By teaching two texts in English together, one from a Western and one from a Middle Eastern culture, students can compare and contrast a familiar text to one that has new settings, themes, people and opinions. This analysis allows students to see how characters, leitmotifs and points of view can be both similar and different across cultures, and in turn improves students’ reading, writing, speaking and critical thinking abilities. As some teachers might be hesitant to use literature in a language classroom or be unfamiliar with texts from a different culture, this chapter gives several specific examples, in addition to explaining how to teach paired texts. When teachers overcome the fear of working with new texts, they can pass on their insights to students.

Click to access AELE_Book_ALLT_ZU_Web_V02.pdf

New essays about the Arabic Alphabet: Ba and Ta (by Michael Beard)

(illustration  by Houman Mortazavi)

Ba: http://alifbatourguide.com/the-arabic-alphabet/ba/

Peh: http://alifbatourguide.com/the-arabic-alphabet/peh/

Ta: http://alifbatourguide.com/the-arabic-alphabet/ta/

excerpt from “Ta is for Dragoman”

Ta is for the Arabic verb T-M-M tamma, to be complete. (Tamma, “it’s over.”) One verbal noun is the word tammâm, completion, perfection, the end, a word which readers of the first edition of FitzGerald’s Rubai‘yât of ‘Umar Khayyâm (1859) will see at the bottom of the page under the last poem, where he adds, without translation, “Tamám shud,” the Persian term for “It’s over,” “it’s complete,” “that’s all she wrote,” “finito,” “finis,” “khalâṣ,” “the end,” “ta ta.”

If we’re in this for the shape of the letters we should be ready for disappointment. Except for the dots, it’s just another saucer shape like Ba or Pa. Ta and Ba do not, however, come from the same ancestor. Ta (like the following letter, Tha) was, in an early Nabataean form, two vertical lines, one of which bends to touch the other, something like our lower-case “h.” In successive shapes it gets simpler and simpler, loses its visual identity, gives in to peer pressure, and assimilates to the shape of Ba, with nothing to distinguish it but the dots.

The two dots float side by side above the plate shape (or above the lip at the beginning of a word, or the little notch in the middle of one). In its terminal form two dots above the curved horizontal line seem a little like two eyes hovering over a narrow, wan smile. It would make a good emoticon.

Ta is one of the commonest prefixes in Arabic, and a common suffix as well, an alphabetical handyman who is likely to show up in any part of the word. At the end of a past tense verb (actually verb tenses in Arabic are complicated, but leave that to the experts), Ta can designate the first person. The same suffix can signal that the agent of a past-tense verb is feminine (object or person). In a present tense verb (present being, again, an approximate term) Ta at the beginning can mean it’s a second-person “you” who performs the action. The same prefix attached to a third-person verb signals feminine agent. For other reasons, independent of tense, it can show up in the middle of a word with no warning for the uninitiated reader.

Hard Worker

The new student of Arabic is greeted early on with a list of variations around the three consonants. The stem D-R-S, “to write,” in default form is darasa, “he studied” or “learned.” Double the middle consonant (i.e. darrasa) and we have the second form, “he caused to learn,” or “he taught.” Lengthen the first vowel, and it’s dârasa, “to study.” (There are seven other potential forms that I know of, not our subject.) That second form, darrasa, has a verbal noun with a Ta prefix, tadrîs, “learning,” “instruction.”

Arabic dictionaries are alphabetized by verbal stem, so Ta often just gets in the way. You see the word tadrîs and you may want to look it up: you won’t find it under Ta, but under Dâl, for D-R-S. Pick up a passage of Arabic and we see Ta words everywhere on the page, but most of them are prefixes. Actual Ta words take up only thirteen pages (out of 1301) of the Hans Wehr Arabic dictionary. It’s different in Persian or Turkish dictionaries, where the Arabic verbal nouns are heard as separate loan words and listed under Tay, so that all those Ta prefixes look like separate words, and the Ta entries in Persian or Turkish dictionaries go on for a while.

Tatmîm, “completion,” comes from a Ta verb, T-M-M. Taḥqiq, “research,” comes from a stem Ḥ-Q-Q, “to be correct.” (The noun Haqq, “truth,” is a family member.) The stem which gives us the Arabic numeral “one,” W-Ḥ-D, as a number is wâḥid. Tawḥîd means “unity,” but in a religious sense “belief in the oneness of God,” “profession of faith,” one of the five pillars of Islam.

ta-chapter-head

Photographs of Dhofar, Oman by S. B.

I am so grateful that a dear friend who is an amazing, creative artist has allowed me to use her photos. She lived in Dhofar for several years and really captured the spirit of this beautiful region.

I work with words but images are essential because if you want to understand a place, you need to see it from many sides with all the senses. Dhofar is the sight of frankincense trees, the smell of frankincense burning, the call of the ladies at Haffa souq telling you to come see their beautiful majmars (frankincense burners), and the sometimes smooth, sometimes bumpy feel of the hardened resin.

Dhofar is the taste of kebsa, basbousa made with coconut, Chips Oman, fresh lime juice with mint, warm paratha with processed cheese, freshly-caught grilled fish served with white rice and dates, coconut milk drunk from the coconut and tea drunk near the edge of Jebel Samhan looking out to the sea. Dhofar is the groups of old women sitting around a plate of stuffed vine leaves talking over all the news and the groups of old men sitting in their daily meeting place surveying everyone who passes and talking over all the news. Dhofar is everyone saying, “it’s qumariya [full moon] let’s have a picnic!” and picnicking in the drizzle of khareef.

Dhofar is the sound of the call to prayer from mosques, the ululating at a wedding party, the whooshing of blow-holes at Muqsal, the howling of winter winds, the thumping bass of a shabab’s car, the squawking of gulls at the beach and parrots in the guava trees, the bellowing of camels standing arrogantly in the middle of the road tossing their heads and refusing to move, the bleating of goats, the lowing of cows, the rustling of palm trees, the low humming of ACs and that odd chirping of lizards.

Dhfoar is the shine of the gold shops, Lulus’ electric neon at night, the warm yellow glow of the fancy streetlights, the flash of bright yellow as a weaver bird wings by, and the scents of dozens of perfumes wafting in the air. Dhofar is hard-packed sand roads along the beach and the rocky roads in the mountains which lead to scenic overlooks, the perfect silence of the Empty Quarter, hot May days, cool January nights and the lovely surprise of seeing a gazelle.

Animals

Landscapes and Plants

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