An experience was shared with me about 6 Saudi Air Force Officers who traveled to the United States in the late 1970’s where among other things they were to receive some English language training. None of the six officers had traveled to the USA before. Their only perceptions and images of the USA were what they saw in the news or via American movies. Considering the 1970’s had some radical times with images of Woodstock, free love, sex and drugs, these traditional Saudis were a little apprehensive about traveling to this unknown destination.
On arrival and after clearing customs, they found this guy who appeared to be in his mid-twenties with an earring and long hair tied back in a ponytail following them and attempting to speak to them. They were convinced that anyone who looked like that must be a drug dealer and that these foreigners were his earmarked target. As a group, they decided to simply ignore the man. However the man was persistent to get their attention. The group of Saudis convened in Arabic about what should they do with this pesky and suspicious looking individual. They decided if he made any attempt to touch them, they would jump him. They continued to ignore the man who, shaking his head, hurriedly walked away.
Now the Saudis felt relief on being on their own but at the same time they were not sure who was to meet them and take them to the facility where they were to receive their training. They collected their bags and proceeded to the airport exit. Wouldn’t you know it, right outside the exit was again the suspicious looking man. But at least this time he was beside a bus and pointing to the logo on the side of the small bus. Yes; it was the name of the institute.
While the Saudis were still not sure about the character of this suspicious looking American they recognized the institute name and logo so they did get into the bus willingly. The American smiled and made every attempt to put the group of Saudis at ease but it was difficult given the language barriers. So the Saudis sat in the back of the bus and sat and sat as the driver drove and drove. The trip to the facility seemed to be taking a long time and the Saudis talked among themselves wondering just how far it was to reach the facility. Were they right in placing trust in this unknown American?
After another consultation it was decided among the group of Saudis that the one Saudi who had a few words of English would try and determine how much farther they needed to travel before arriving at their destination. This Saudi made his way up to beside the driver, shyly saying “hello” in his heavily accented English. The driver’s face lit up in a big wide smile and readily responded back “HI!”
The Saudi allowed a shy smile to cross his face and in his broken English asked “How many meals?” The driver looked at him with curiosity then responded while holding up three fingers, “three – breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
The Saudi sheepishly said thank you and made his way back to his seat where his colleagues greeted him with laughter as they realized he was not successful with his limited English. Shortly thereafter the Saudis arrived at their destination where a translator was present and they were then properly introduced to the amiable driver who had only wanted them to feel welcomed. All of the Saudis did indeed learn very good English after that and each of them take relish in recounting this initial experience to America in the 1970’s.
Filed under: America, Dress, Saudi culture, travel
LOL!!! ; )
Awesome…reminds me of the story of my brother in law’s first trip to America when he entered a bank wanting to open an account and asked for a chicken sandwich instead!
See why I’m so shy to use my limited arabic skills? I’d hate to try and ask “how much is this” and accidentally say “would you like to see my underpants”.
It’s always interesting to hear the stories of those who come the the states and their first impressions. My husband is Swedish…and when he landed in San Diego, CA (coming from Stockholm) in January and it was 80 degrees out…he thought he had went to heaven. San Diego…is that fabulous. But, then even though he is fluent in English (the Swedes start teaching english from age 7 on) he still felt that no one understood him.
BTW: I’m currently reading one of the books you recommended “Citizen of the Global Village”; which charts his true life experiences of a guy coming from Saudi Arabia to the USA in the 70′s. It’s a pretty decent read. Thanks!!
Glad everyone is enjoying. And I agree it is interesting hearing of first impressions and experiences. Umm Sumayah – that is so funny! And I can see myself doing something like that too!
BCIS – so glad you are enjoying the book. Hamed is a great guy and shares candidly of his experiences.
LOL! I love stories of cross-cultural confusion and misunderstanding!
LOL! What a funny story to read first thing in the morning!Thankyou!
Great Story!
When I first met my fiance I was trying to explain to him that Australia had lots of beaches… well with him not quite understanding my Australian accent he thought I was telling him that Australia had a lot of B*tches…..
The look on his face was priceless.. not to mention the subsequent questions as to why I would say that about women in my country! LOL
UmmSumayah – I am also so shy to use my limited arabic for the exact same reason!!
glad ya’ll are enjoying and Aussiegirl – that is a hoot!!
lol!
And I can hear the aussie pronounced ”bieaches” lol!
Wonderful stories from all! Especially fun reversal to hear Saudis abroad stories. Three of my favourite stories of cross-linguistic blunders:
My English language student, who seemed in an unusually bad mood one day, after some attempts at chit chat announced angrily in his French/Arabic accent that no he wasn’t going to study this afternoon ,he was going to the B*tch. Foolish, persistent, kindly teacher that I am I thought that particularly unfortunate mispronunciation was worth the correction. “I’ll say B*tch whatever way I want!” says he. “Have a good time!” I wisely decided to reply. (dated him after the course was over, and much later married him!).
After I had acquired native level fluency in French, I was asking my former professor, now friend. about her husband, “Comment ca va LA morale?” said I, again kindly and concerned, this time about his recent immigration. She looked shocked until I realized I should have said “LE moral”–difference between “How are your husband’s morals?” and “How is your husband’s mood?”. (Little did I know that her husband’s morals were a concern at the time!).
An American friend, recently posted as an expat to Taiwan, where she had been raised as a military brat, kept insisting to her local grocer in her best Taiwanese Mandarin that she wanted breakfast cereal in bulk. Finally the shopkeeper gave up and brought her the wood chips she so desperately asked for.
Okay four–An arabophone foreign medical grad recently arrived in Canada was asking me a few months ago about naming traditions here. After some other examples, I said “My girlfriend Miriam…” He looked at me stunned and whispered “You’re a lesbian?”
So much fun, this post!
Great stories and funny experiences Chiara! Glad you enjoyed this post.
How funny. I have an image in my head now of people coming to America and actually feeling the need to speak to us louder and more forcefully in their language in order to make us understand them.
Today I was sitting in my office with a Saudi man and a South African women. I said to the woman “alright, man”. I thought my Saudi friend would keel over at my rudeness calling the woman a man.
One of my Saudi email buddies was trying to console
me after I had to put down my mare last spring. I was
pretty upset about it and he had sent me several
sympathetic emails. After it was over I sent him an email- to which he responded “And I say good riddance to the horse”. Now I know that wasn’t what he meant, so I laughed so hard I cried. My whole family laughed! If you had told me I would be laughing afterwards I would have told you that you were crazy.
From last evening’s conversation with the young Iranian coffee shop attendant:
Him: I am here 8 months ago.
Me: You are at college, right?
Him: No, I at the Lynch.
Me: The LINC, the government school for English for immigrants? [free btw]
Him: Yes, but I hate the Lynch–they no good.
Me: They aren’?.
Him: No, I spend 10 day in Halifax with my family I speak with people there more Engish than at the Lynch.
Me: If your family is in Halifax, why are you here then?[he hates the city--too many foreigners].
Him: My wife here. She is family too. She my uncle…no my daughter…
Me: Your cousin?
Him: Yes.
Me: The one you are supposed to marry in your tradition?
Him: Yes. Is family. Is good (big smile).
My thoughts: Soooo cute
You don’t even have to stray into foreign languages to get tangled!
The differences between American and British English are enough to leave you beating your head against the wall, if not end up in jail.
Words that can get you into embarrassing situations if not legal problems, among many:
Pants
Knock up
Enjoin
To table a resolution
Some would argue that American and English are 2 different languages. Now Canajian,eh that’s a whole different story, eh?
The Canterville Ghost: “We have really everything in common with America nowadays except, of course, language.”
Just take the example of sweet and suite. The words are pronounced the same with vastly different meanings. English can be very confusing!
My husband is British, I’m American and boy do we have doozies over language misunderstandings.
Here’s a little story – I grew up overseas in British schools, switched over to an American International School for high school in preparation for going to the US for college. First day, first class of 9th grade, I put my hand up and in keeping with my post-colonial British brainwashing stood up next to my chair to ask “Does anyone have a rubber?”
My reputation was set for 4 years.
PS
UK English: Rubber = eraser
US English: Rubber = condom
LOL You should have come to Canada–we used rubbers all the time in school, although it seems in my 9 -year- old nephew’s world they use erasers. He even gave me one for Christmas to enable my Sudoku addiction!
I loved this funny story!
Expat 21
Rubbers all over the place in Irish schools too. When I moved to the US, I was aware of the American meaning of the word and so, was constantly reminding myself not to use it.
This didn’t entirely protect me from misunderstandings. The first time I went to the hairdressers and asked her to trim my ‘fringe’ caused some confusion. I had actually read about ‘bangs’ when I read the Little House on the Prairie books as a child, but for some reason I didn’t equate them with ‘fringe’. In my mind, ‘bangs’ were the little curls over the ears that were popular with women at the time. Two nations divided by a common language indeed.