In Pimsleur Eastern Arabic phase 2 lesson 7, one is reminded of the 1st person singular present form of the verb “to go.”
As it turns out, this is the “naked” version, one which goes with a helping verb, as in “I want to go there:”
biddee ruu7 li hineek
If you want to simply say “I go” without a helping verb, the initial “b” is added to indicate person and number (me!)
bruu7 li hineek
But then one is taught (reminded?) this: I go, I am going:
Is this accurate? “to go” has a gerund form in Arabic?
Today I learned how to say that one either always or never drinks something.
ma bishrab shay abidan. I never drink tea.
bishrab ahweh daa’iman. I always drink coffee.
Great! But when I was taught how to say that “I would like to drink tea,” the main verb for “to drink” was slightly different:
b’7eb ishrab shay.
I realize that in Eastern Arabic (Levantine, Shami, Palestinian, etc) the ‘b’ at the beginning of a verb is the “I” (1st person singular) indicator. Does it travel to the front helping verbs like 7eb if used in conjunction? So IOW, if a verb is by itself, it takes the ‘b’ at the beginning. Right?
And if that’s the case, then why am I learning other verbs like ruu7 (I go) that don’t take a ‘b’ at all?
Thanks, as always.
OK, this one just has me stumped. In lesson 19, they teach you how to ask where someone lives and answer appropriately.
wayn saken? where do you (m.) live?
saken b’amerka. I live in America.
wayn saknee? where do you (f.) live?
saknee b’ish-sham. I live in Syria.
Do you see what’s driving me nuts here? The verb is not only conjugated differently between 2nd person masculine and feminine, the same thing happens in the first person as well! And the conjugations stay the same from 1st to 2nd person! So far, this is the only verb I’ve seen that does this. Any explanation or examples of other verbs doing this would be welcome!
Maybe it’s a state thing? If the verb connotes one’s presence in a particular area it does this? Dunno, just thinking out loud.
!شكرا يا أصدقائي
Does كم always make the nouns it modifies singular? Here’s one of the first instances you meet in Pimsleur:
kem walad andak? How many children do you have?
But a few lessons later you learn
fee kem shUKuS b’a’iltak? How many people are in your family?
“shuKHuS” is the word for person, and is singular, as is “walad,” the word for child. But then the instructor says something really weird.
“You notice that the word family, ‘a’ila’, is singular. So we use the singular word for people: shuKHuS.”
That makes no sense for a couple of reasons:
- There is no singular word to make “walad” singular in “kem walad andak,” so the precedent doesn’t hold to this rule.
- The word modified by “how many” shouldn’t be subject to change by a word in the prepositional phrase that follows – they are separate parts of the sentence.
The first verb Pimsleur usually introduces in any of their language courses is something along the lines of to speak, to understand, to know. In the case of Arabic, they introduce “to know” first, and “to speak” comes a few lessons later. But by the time it does get introduced, certain conjugation patterns have already been introduced.
I know ba’aref
you (m) know bta’aref
you (f) know bta’arfee
I eat ‘akul
you (m) eat t’akul
you (f) eat t’akalee
But when “to speak” is introduced, something strange appears, and I’d love to understand the meaning behind the apparent weirdness.
I speak beHkee
you (m) speak b’teHkee
you (f) speak b’teHkee
So here are my main two questions:
- Why on earth are you (m) and you (f) the same? In this instance, it appears that you (m) has adopted the ending that you (f) usually uses — ee (ي) Seriously: is there a reason for this? Or is it just random and isolated?
- Are there other verbs where you (m) appears to mimic the you (f) version?
At this point, I don’t know if my blog posts are going to follow this kind of random WTH pattern of questioning, or if I’ll settle into a more streamlined linguistically appropriate methodology. Probably the former, but we’ll see.
In any case, feel free to chime in with thoughts, theories, facts, or whatever.
Arabic is a language I have tried to tackle more than a few times. As a result, I have some very rudimentary skills in the language, mostly confined to greetings:
Good morning! Sabah al-kheyr
Thank you! shuk-ran
Good bye! ma eh-salaameh
I want to drink beer! b’heb ishrab beera!
But recent events here in the States have put this language in front of me once again. This country is about to get a whole lot less friendly toward immigrants, particularly those from the Middle East. I’m not in a position to effect policy, but I am in a position to create a more welcoming atmosphere.
So I have joined my church’s task force that welcomes refugees. One of the first families that is arriving next month is from Iraq. How great will it be if I’m there able to say something as simple as “How are you? Welcome to America” to them in their native tongue.
So that’s what I’ll be talking about here, mostly. I’ve already started with Pimsleur’s Eastern Arabic course. Arabic is the kind of language where you don’t benefit from a dictionary study, as the “official” language isn’t something that anyone really speaks. And when you’re going through a dialectical study, especially one that is voice-based like Pimsleur, the written word sometimes doesn’t help. Phrases or words that you hear on the tapes don’t appear in dictionaries. And there really aren’t any grammars that tackle the verb conjugation differences between, say, Palestinian Arabic and Modern Standard Arabic (MSA).
At this point I’ve gone through 6 lessons. I have a number of questions, and I’ll post them in what I hope will be separate blog posts. If you come across this blog and you are in any way familiar with the Shami or other eastern Arabic dialects, chime in!