Dreaming in Arabic

أهلا و سهلا  !

...or for those of you who don't read Arabic, welcome! My life has been taken over by the language for the last few weeks (as you can see above, I even carry it with when grabbing a burger), and Arabic will continue to permeate my thoughts as I spend my summer taking Arabic 101 & 102 at Georgetown. When a classmate & I were studying together a few weekends ago, we found out that both of us have been dreaming in Arabic, as learning the language is a whole mind-body-soul kind of experience. Sometimes it feels like Arabic is seeping out of my pores, I spend so much of my energy thinking and talking in and about it.

The unfortunate victim of constant Arabicing is my roommate's cat Mooney (yes, she really is that cute). القطة القمرية  or "the moonie cat" has been the protagonist in the stories and sentences I craft in order to learn my vocabulary words, and in my Arabic dreams she is constantly followed by the floating word جميلة,"beautiful". Actually, now that I do the math, I spend a quarter of my waking day in Arabic class, so I suppose it's not totally crazy that it's all that I think about.

But other than Arabic, what have I been up to?

Mostly, my time is spent working as an intern at the International Center for Journalists (ICFJ) with their Pakistani journalist exchange program. The program brings mid level journalists from Pakistan to the US for one month fellowship placements in different American newsrooms, so that they can learn about local American media, but also to facilitate a cultural exchange between the two countries. My daily work entails updating database information, finding fellowship placements in the US, preparing American cultural information for the fellows, following up on missing invoices, and filling out reimbursement requests, but it not all logistical work. Before the Pakistanis leave for their placements, and again before they fly back home, ICFJ takes them around DC and to meet with different speakers, and I get to help my supervisors with "chaperoning"  the Pakistanis on these field trips.

Last week, we had an outgoing group of 19 broadcast journalists, and we took them around to National Cathedral, the Capitol building, the State Department (the main funder of the program), and the Pakistani Embassy. While I didn't get  to join them at the State Department this time around (I'm still in disbelief that I got to accompany the last group there), this was my first time visiting an embassy, and getting to meet the Deputy Chief of Mission from Pakistan was the icing on the cake. (Not to mention, that the artwork inside the embassy is beautiful as well.)

Though honestly, getting to converse with the Pakistanis is probably my favorite part of my job. Putting aside that I love talking with almost anyone, I find that this is where the true cultural exchange in the program happens for me, for as an Indian-American, I have two cultures to offer for an "exchange". Some of the Pakistanis see me as an Indian, and I get to learn about how our countries differ, but more than not, how alike our families and values are. Other Pakistanis see me as a representative for the South Asian American immigrant community, and am interested to see how I live biculturally in the States. And then there are the few, the ones I usually get to know best, get a chance to see me as I see myself, an American with Indian roots, and with whom I get a chance to debate foreign policy, education reform, the balance between living up to expectations set by your family and those you set for yourself, and the weird quirks of both American and South Asian cultures.

So this the rhythm that my life is bouncing to right now - what does your rhythm sound like?