The Arabeezy Phenomenon

The American University in Cairo is by far the most well-endowed university in Egypt. Its facilities resemble those at most universities in the United States, and its tuition is comparable to its counterparts in the U.S. as well. Because the cost of an AUC education is well beyond the means of an ordinary Egyptian family, the Egyptian students at AUC are primarily from the upper crust of society. As part of CASA’s “cultural exchange” program, we have had the opportunity to get to know a group of Egyptian AUC students. After several potlucks lunches, picnics, and other get-togethers, I have become particularly close with a few of the Egyptians. Like many of my friends in Alexandria, my AUC friends are smart, charismatic, and intellectually curious. They are just as interested in learning from us as we are in learning from them.

Most if not all of these AUC students speak English very well. Like other Egyptians who speak English with a high level of proficiency, however, they often speak a mixture of Arabic and English. This hybrid language is known in Egypt as "Arabeezy" (a mixture of "Arabic" and "Ingleezy," the Arabic word for English). Arabeezy speakers generally combine basic Arabic verbs, pronouns, and conjunctions with more complex English nouns and phrases. Sometimes an entire sentence will be in Arabic save for one key word (e.g. "I had a tough day at work today because there were so many customers" - every word would be Arabic except for "customers"), but I have also heard people intersperse Arabic and English words one after another throughout the sentence (e.g. "I'm studying economics because I want to work at a foreign company that has an office here in Cairo").

This code-switching seems to occur completely naturally. At the same time, I am highly skeptical that they are simply unable to distinguish between languages when they are speaking. Instead, I view Arabeezy as a status symbol related to class and education.* English is taught in every Egyptian school, but often not very well. When I taught English last year in Alexandria at a private learning center, for example, my college-aged students who had taken English throughout their primary and secondary education were still making entry-level mistakes. For them, Arabeezy consisted of trying to speak a few words in English followed by a lapse back into Arabic because they couldn't find the appropriate English word to finish their sentence. For these AUC students, however, their seemingly unconscious code-switching between English and Arabic clues anyone listening to them into their command of English -- a skill that is intimately tied to class and means. While I am not sure if they are purposefully trying to impress us Americans, there definitely seems to be an element of superiority compared to the average Egyptian who knows only the most basic English words and phrases.

There are two other factors that encourage the Arabeezy phenomenon as well. First is the tendency of many upper-class Egyptians to follow Western pop culture religiously. Many of the AUC students have seen more American movies than I have, and I was shocked by how many of them knew the lyrics to American songs that we sang together on our outing to a public park in Cairo last weekend. The desire to speak English instead of Arabic follows from this general interest in pop culture. Secondly, it is undeniable that English proficiency is a huge advantage in the Egyptian labor market. Many of the well-known companies in the Egyptian private sector conduct their business partially or sometimes fully in English, and English is also a basic requirement for anyone going into a tourism-related business. Thus, Egyptians may see Arabeezy as a way to practice their English - especially when they are speaking to native English speakers whom they know will understand the English words that they use.

As a student of Arabic, I find Arabeezy incredibly frustrating. While I understand the factors that drive Egyptians to want to speak English with me, I would much rather have them speak to me fully in English or fully in Arabic. Combining the two languages, however, prevents both of us from learning anything. One of the most important benefits of listening to native speakers speak is that you learn how to construct sentences and use vocabulary in the proper context. Code-switching in the middle of sentences distracts attention from sentence construction, and it also does not help the speaker learn how to use English phrases and words in the proper context. Having the ability to speak more than one language is truly a gift, but with great ability comes great responsibility. So, to all the Arabeezy speakers out there, I beg you: at the beginning of every conversation, just pick a language and stick with it!


* I am not this first to make this argument. For an excellent window into the political and social developments in Egypt over the past 60 years, see Galal Amin's book Whatever Happened to the Egyptians?.

A Trip to Fantasyland

Yesterday was my first and only “true” day of summer. The sun was shining, I swam a few laps in a pristine, Olympic-sized pool, and spent the rest of the day reading and lounging poolside with a few friends. All in all, a very pleasant experience.

Step back for a second. I am in Egypt right now, a developing country in which the provision of clean water to the citizenry is still a major issue. I would venture to guess that less than one percent of the population has ever seen a swimming pool, much less swam in one. While I technically was still in Egypt yesterday, I spent the day in “New Cairo,” a sheltered, phantasmagorical development on the outskirts of Cairo that resembles an upscale suburb of Los Angeles. New Cairo is home, appropriately, to the American University of Cairo’s “New Campus.” AUC’s new home is beautiful. The campus is spacious, the buildings are built in a modern Islamic style that is reminiscent of both the alleyways of Damascus and adobe brick buildings in the American Southwest, and the campus has just about every resource that an American college student is used to (a huge library, beautiful sports complex, WiFi-equipped classrooms, etc.)

The fact that this beautiful campus is in Egypt, though, is decidedly weird. That is not to say that Egypt is not worthy of such a place. Indeed, I’m sure that any Egyptian student would be happy to attend AUC over other Egyptian universities (which tend to lack even the most basic facilities and services and are often just as corrupt as other institutions in the country were under Mubarak). But AUC in general is not composed of Egyptians from all walks of life. It has a reputation for being an exclusive, country-club like university for the children of Egypt’s elite. Classes are primarily in English, there is an “Americana” food court, and it costs $4 just to ride the bus from the center of Cairo to the new campus (a significant fee for all but the richest in this society).

Indeed, the new AUC campus and its surroundings are emblematic of the huge chasm between Egypt’s ultra-rich and the rest of the population. Although Mubarak’s economic and social policies wreaked havoc on the poor during his 30 years in power, the economic liberalization that he oversaw allowed for the formation of a privileged upper-class. The new AUC Campus (and New Cairo in general) are manifestations of the chasm between Egypt’s ultra-rich and the rest of the population. Whereas the average Egyptian living in an urban area resides in a cramped apartment building, takes public transportation, and buys his food from street vendors, the average resident of New Cairo resides in a villa-like house, has one or more cars, and shops at the local mall.

Many Egyptians will certainly tell you that they aspire to live in a place like New Cairo. The residents of New Cairo all enjoy the amenities of life that we in the West could not dream of living without, and which the international community has focused on promoting in the developing world. But New Cairo, in my opinion, does not represent “development” in any meaningful sense of the word. It is easy to forget the hardships of daily life in Egypt while lounging at the AUC pool. There is a fine line, however, between simply living and working in an wealthy, calm area away from the bustle of the city and isolating yourself to the point where you lose all perspective of the way that the other 99% of the society lives.