Jude brought up an interesting point in a previous comment section--languages we'd like to know. So, if you had the time/money/magical genie wish to learn any language, what would you choose? And what do you already know?
I'll be fair and answer my own questions:
English is my native language, and despite how much of a pain it is, I love it.
I took French in high school (it was as geographically close to Arabic as I could get) and had a very good time; I'm now a French minor. I love the literature, especially the poetry of Victor Hugo and Paul Eluard.
I ruled out colleges because of their (lack of) Arabic programs. I'm in my second year, and I like to tell people that I know enough to find an English speaker. As of this last week, I also know enough to find the bathroom.
If I could learn any other languages... Farsi and Hebrew. If I could learn any in an instant, I'd probably choose to learn them all, but if I had to choose runners-up to Farsi and Hebrew, I might go for Russian or Chinese.
Now it's your turn.
Showing posts with label Arabic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arabic. Show all posts
October 13, 2010
May 8, 2010
Arabic Plurals (Or, Why English Makes More Sense than Arabic)
In English, plurals are (I think) decently easy; they generally involve adding an -s to the end of the word. There are a few weird irregulars, like man/men and mouse/mice, but the rest of the exceptions are based on word endings.
Word ends in//Plural ends in
-y//-ies
-s, -sh, -ch, -x, -z//-es
-o//-oes
-f//-ves
and words borrowed from other languages do whatever they feel like doing at the moment; the resulting complexity isn't completely English's fault. So, OK, it's not perfectly easy, but it's a rare plural that doesn't involve adding -s.
Arabic, however. I'm told there's a pattern, and sometimes I see it, but why do there have to be six different types of plurals? They're mostly divided by masculine, feminine, human, and non-human. Since almost all feminine nouns end in taa marbuta (-a), it's easy enough to change it to -alif taa (-aat).
And then you have the broken plurals, which keep the same root and switch vowels around. Razhul//rizhaal. Saahib//ashaab. Talib//talaab. They say to memorize it now and we'll understand the pattern eventually, but it's rather a pain--which is why I'm sharing it with you now. On this one, I really do think English is easier. Mostly.
Word ends in//Plural ends in
-y//-ies
-s, -sh, -ch, -x, -z//-es
-o//-oes
-f//-ves
and words borrowed from other languages do whatever they feel like doing at the moment; the resulting complexity isn't completely English's fault. So, OK, it's not perfectly easy, but it's a rare plural that doesn't involve adding -s.
Arabic, however. I'm told there's a pattern, and sometimes I see it, but why do there have to be six different types of plurals? They're mostly divided by masculine, feminine, human, and non-human. Since almost all feminine nouns end in taa marbuta (-a), it's easy enough to change it to -alif taa (-aat).
And then you have the broken plurals, which keep the same root and switch vowels around. Razhul//rizhaal. Saahib//ashaab. Talib//talaab. They say to memorize it now and we'll understand the pattern eventually, but it's rather a pain--which is why I'm sharing it with you now. On this one, I really do think English is easier. Mostly.
May 5, 2010
Why Arabic Makes More Sense than English
Lately, I've been thinking that Arabic root words make more sense than English.
English: Usually one-syllable parts that aren't words in their own right and are taken from Latin or Greek. May be in different parts of the word, depending on prefixes, suffixes, etc. Can also be combined in fun ways*.
Arabic: Roots of three letters with a collective meaning. Put in a pattern of vowels, prefixes, and suffixes to change the meaning. For example, k-t-b is to mark/write. Kitaab--book. Kataba--he wrote. Maktaba--library. Maktab--office.
To me, the Arabic way feels more regular and seems to make more sense. If you know the form and root, what can go wrong? I have yet to be disillusioned.
*I met a girl who didn't know what her major was going to be, but had to introduce herself to an audience of maybe a thousand or two and say her name, major, and why she liked working at the auditorium. I got this close to convincing her to say her major was kinesioeconomics, just because it sounded both fun and like a major somebody could do. Economy of motion, right? She chickened out, but not before I'd decided a major in Astroavionics would be fun preparation to either pilot spaceships or write science fiction.
English: Usually one-syllable parts that aren't words in their own right and are taken from Latin or Greek. May be in different parts of the word, depending on prefixes, suffixes, etc. Can also be combined in fun ways*.
Arabic: Roots of three letters with a collective meaning. Put in a pattern of vowels, prefixes, and suffixes to change the meaning. For example, k-t-b is to mark/write. Kitaab--book. Kataba--he wrote. Maktaba--library. Maktab--office.
To me, the Arabic way feels more regular and seems to make more sense. If you know the form and root, what can go wrong? I have yet to be disillusioned.
*I met a girl who didn't know what her major was going to be, but had to introduce herself to an audience of maybe a thousand or two and say her name, major, and why she liked working at the auditorium. I got this close to convincing her to say her major was kinesioeconomics, just because it sounded both fun and like a major somebody could do. Economy of motion, right? She chickened out, but not before I'd decided a major in Astroavionics would be fun preparation to either pilot spaceships or write science fiction.
May 3, 2010
Regular Verbs
Before 9th grade French class, I'd never heard of regular verbs. Then I realized I didn't know if English had any.
Apparently we do, and they actually look pretty easy to conjugate, considering the present tense form is only different for he/she/it, the past tense is all the same, and everything else takes an auxiliary and a participle. Not too bad; in French and Arabic you have to conjugate a little more based on 1st/2nd/3rd person and singular/plural, at least in present and past tense.
On the other hand, English has a lot of irregular verbs, and you can't tell from the word itself whether or not it's regular.
In French, if the infinitive ends with -er, -ir, or -re, it's usually regular. French also has some semi-regular verb families, like the -uire verbs and variants of mettre and venir (both of which are exceptions to the infinitive endings).
In Arabic, there are six truly irregular verbs; the rest belong to families of semi-regulars, and you should be able to tell them by doubled letters or weak consonants in the root. (I could be wrong here; I'm summarizing something I don't know well and read about on the internet.)
In English, you just have to know the verb. We don't have endings to the infinitive that tell us it's irregular, like French usually will, and there aren't specific patterns with the roots like in Arabic. This'd be OK enough--if we didn't have so many irregulars.
Yeah, Sodom and Gomorrah may be in the nice, green part of the country, but you have to pay for it with a little flaming sulfur.
A nice list of regular verbs.
A not-so-nice list of irregular verbs.
A fun verb conjugator.
A useful explanation of irregular verbs in Arabic, if you're such a masochist that you really want to know.
Apparently we do, and they actually look pretty easy to conjugate, considering the present tense form is only different for he/she/it, the past tense is all the same, and everything else takes an auxiliary and a participle. Not too bad; in French and Arabic you have to conjugate a little more based on 1st/2nd/3rd person and singular/plural, at least in present and past tense.
On the other hand, English has a lot of irregular verbs, and you can't tell from the word itself whether or not it's regular.
In French, if the infinitive ends with -er, -ir, or -re, it's usually regular. French also has some semi-regular verb families, like the -uire verbs and variants of mettre and venir (both of which are exceptions to the infinitive endings).
In Arabic, there are six truly irregular verbs; the rest belong to families of semi-regulars, and you should be able to tell them by doubled letters or weak consonants in the root. (I could be wrong here; I'm summarizing something I don't know well and read about on the internet.)
In English, you just have to know the verb. We don't have endings to the infinitive that tell us it's irregular, like French usually will, and there aren't specific patterns with the roots like in Arabic. This'd be OK enough--if we didn't have so many irregulars.
Yeah, Sodom and Gomorrah may be in the nice, green part of the country, but you have to pay for it with a little flaming sulfur.
A nice list of regular verbs.
A not-so-nice list of irregular verbs.
A fun verb conjugator.
A useful explanation of irregular verbs in Arabic, if you're such a masochist that you really want to know.
April 21, 2010
Third Language Learning
A friend of mine also interested in SLS mentioned that she wondered what learning more than two languages would do to how you learn.
I'm here to explain that as best I can without knowing much at all about SLS yet.
English: My native language, learned as a child. I fancy I understand it rather well.
French: My second language, started in high school. I'm nowhere near fluent, but you could parachute me down anywhere in France and I could probably find my way home, or at least get into a good discussion about literature. I hate the grammar, love the pronunciation, like and mostly understand the literature, and ask that, s'il vous plait, you'll speak slowly.
Arabic: My third language. Parachute me into Egypt, and I'll be able to tell someone who I am and that I need to find someone who speaks English. I might even be able to carry on a halting conversation about my pets. Hate the vocabulary, like reading and pronunciation.
I'm in the process of learning both French and Arabic right now. I'm also in the process of saying, "Bonjour ya Carmen. Kayf halak? Ca va." I usually don't start speaking in Arabic when I'm trying to speak French, but I've had some close calls, including a time on a test where I had to choose between the wrong season in French and the right season in Arabic. (I went with French.)
But when I'm in Arabic, French is usually my fall-back language. If there's something I don't know how to say in Arabci and I have time to think about what I'm saying, I'll usually use English. If I'm still trying to say it in Arabic, the word I don't know will probably be French.
Sometimes I think I get into a 'foreign language mood.' When that's the case, it's easier to grab a word from my second language than my first. It gets a bit confusing, especially if you're the one trying to understand me.
So that's speech and thought; now for learning.
Learning French in high school was a valuable experience; it taught me how to learn a language. Before that, I didn't know such a thing as regular verbs existed. There were certain phrases I knew I should look out for and learn quickly, and ways to chart verbs that would help me study more effectively.
On a related note, it was studying French that made me realize how little I knew about English. Sure, I was good at grammar, but I didn't even know if we had regular verbs. I had a better idea of what I needed to learn in college. If I hadn't realized this, I'd probably still be in English Education, preparing to teach literature.
In summary: learning a second language taught me not only how to learn a third, but how to learn my first.
I'm here to explain that as best I can without knowing much at all about SLS yet.
English: My native language, learned as a child. I fancy I understand it rather well.
French: My second language, started in high school. I'm nowhere near fluent, but you could parachute me down anywhere in France and I could probably find my way home, or at least get into a good discussion about literature. I hate the grammar, love the pronunciation, like and mostly understand the literature, and ask that, s'il vous plait, you'll speak slowly.
Arabic: My third language. Parachute me into Egypt, and I'll be able to tell someone who I am and that I need to find someone who speaks English. I might even be able to carry on a halting conversation about my pets. Hate the vocabulary, like reading and pronunciation.
I'm in the process of learning both French and Arabic right now. I'm also in the process of saying, "Bonjour ya Carmen. Kayf halak? Ca va." I usually don't start speaking in Arabic when I'm trying to speak French, but I've had some close calls, including a time on a test where I had to choose between the wrong season in French and the right season in Arabic. (I went with French.)
But when I'm in Arabic, French is usually my fall-back language. If there's something I don't know how to say in Arabci and I have time to think about what I'm saying, I'll usually use English. If I'm still trying to say it in Arabic, the word I don't know will probably be French.
Sometimes I think I get into a 'foreign language mood.' When that's the case, it's easier to grab a word from my second language than my first. It gets a bit confusing, especially if you're the one trying to understand me.
So that's speech and thought; now for learning.
Learning French in high school was a valuable experience; it taught me how to learn a language. Before that, I didn't know such a thing as regular verbs existed. There were certain phrases I knew I should look out for and learn quickly, and ways to chart verbs that would help me study more effectively.
On a related note, it was studying French that made me realize how little I knew about English. Sure, I was good at grammar, but I didn't even know if we had regular verbs. I had a better idea of what I needed to learn in college. If I hadn't realized this, I'd probably still be in English Education, preparing to teach literature.
In summary: learning a second language taught me not only how to learn a third, but how to learn my first.
April 18, 2010
Small Vowels and 1st Graders
I had a chance to talk to Dr. I. a week or so ago, and--as she's an Arabic teacher and a native speaker--I asked her about the short vowels* I keep seeing at the ends of words in my Arabic New Testament. She said that, as a matter of good pronunciation, you do indeed use them.**
So, naturally, I asked her why we hadn't learned any of this first semester, when we first learned to conjugate verbs. She replied that, when she first taught, she'd been a stickler for that sort of thing. Eventually, though, she found that de-emphasizing them and encouraging useage instead of perfection helped students progress more quickly and enthusiastically.
Last semester I did service learning at the local elementary school for an education class. Just about every Monday morning I was there, the 1st graders had a writing exercise based on something current (ie, Halloween) or a book we'd just read together. I'd go around helping and encouraging: "Good job!" "Have you an your family ever gone on vacation somewhere? --Cool! --Now write down what you just told me." And, while they were writing: "Is that the right way to spell the word?"
The teacher talked to me later on. "You don't need to worry too much about the spelling," she said. "What's important is that they're writing."
I tend to be nitpicky about grammar and spelling, so those two events made me pause and think. There's a lot to be said for perfection--that's the goal. But perfection comes with time. Which would you prefer, a class that does incessant drills, or a class that makes you interact? Starting both with the passable and with the easy leaves room for enthusiasm.
To put it this way: you can't head into the gym and start with 200 pounds. You have to start with something you can actually handle and work up to something you can actually handle (though 200 pounds is a lot). That's why language classes start with "Ana ismee Rachel. Ma ismuki?" It took us a couple months to get through the alphabet, much less start verb conjugation.
*Arabic has three long vowels written in the word with the consonants, and three short vowels written above or below the word. The short vowels are often omitted in writing, except to clarify the meaning. Children's books and holy books are generally fully vowelized, which is why I knew these vowels on the ends of words existed.
**From what I know: sometimes they're grammatical (the indicative and the subjunctive have different final vowels. Other times I think they're part of the word and serve to make the sound flow better. I could be wrong.
So, naturally, I asked her why we hadn't learned any of this first semester, when we first learned to conjugate verbs. She replied that, when she first taught, she'd been a stickler for that sort of thing. Eventually, though, she found that de-emphasizing them and encouraging useage instead of perfection helped students progress more quickly and enthusiastically.
Last semester I did service learning at the local elementary school for an education class. Just about every Monday morning I was there, the 1st graders had a writing exercise based on something current (ie, Halloween) or a book we'd just read together. I'd go around helping and encouraging: "Good job!" "Have you an your family ever gone on vacation somewhere? --Cool! --Now write down what you just told me." And, while they were writing: "Is that the right way to spell the word?"
The teacher talked to me later on. "You don't need to worry too much about the spelling," she said. "What's important is that they're writing."
I tend to be nitpicky about grammar and spelling, so those two events made me pause and think. There's a lot to be said for perfection--that's the goal. But perfection comes with time. Which would you prefer, a class that does incessant drills, or a class that makes you interact? Starting both with the passable and with the easy leaves room for enthusiasm.
To put it this way: you can't head into the gym and start with 200 pounds. You have to start with something you can actually handle and work up to something you can actually handle (though 200 pounds is a lot). That's why language classes start with "Ana ismee Rachel. Ma ismuki?" It took us a couple months to get through the alphabet, much less start verb conjugation.
*Arabic has three long vowels written in the word with the consonants, and three short vowels written above or below the word. The short vowels are often omitted in writing, except to clarify the meaning. Children's books and holy books are generally fully vowelized, which is why I knew these vowels on the ends of words existed.
**From what I know: sometimes they're grammatical (the indicative and the subjunctive have different final vowels. Other times I think they're part of the word and serve to make the sound flow better. I could be wrong.
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