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DIALECT, CULTURE, AND SOCIETY IN EASTERN ARABIA VOLUME II : ETHNOGRAPHIC TEXTS
HANDBOOK OF ORIENTAL STUDIES HANDBUCH DER ORIENTALISTIK SECTION ONE
THE NEAR AND MIDDLE EAST EDITED BY
H. ALTENMÜLLER · B. HROUDA · B.A. LEVINE · R.S. O’FAHEY K.R. VEENHOF · C.H.M. VERSTEEGH
VOLUME FIFTY-ONE
DIALECT, CULTURE, AND SOCIETY IN EASTERN ARABIA VOLUME II : ETHNOGRAPHIC TEXTS
DIALECT, CULTURE, AND SOCIETY IN EASTERN ARABIA BY
CLIVE HOLES
volume two ETHNOGRAPHIC TEXTS
BRILL LEIDEN • BOSTON 2005
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A C.I.P. record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.
ISSN 0169-9423 ISBN 90 04 14494 3 © Copyright 2005 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill Academic Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Brill provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910 Danvers MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
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CONTENTS General Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
ix xiii
Volume II: Ethnographic Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Introduction: texts and text types . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Map 1 and key . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Map 2 and key . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Index of Speakers and Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Language Notes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Abbreviations and Conventions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
xv xvii xxii xxiii xxv xxvii lv lvii
Chapter 1: Pearl Diving . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1: the daily routine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2: ‘the year of the sinking’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3: jellyfish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4: Ginn on the sea-bed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 5: the end of the VarSa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Boat-builders’ jargon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Proverbs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Pearl diving in vernacular poetry: munAFarat il-JOR wa manAbIP in-nifV ‘The Debate of Pearl Diving and Oil Wells’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
1 10 11 22 26 27 31 34 35
Chapter 2: Agriculture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Farming aphorisms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Agriculture in vernacular poetry: PADAri ‘{Adh¸rº’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
47 75 77 91 109 114 126 130 141 143
Chapter 3: Communal Relations. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1: the ‘Battle of {@lº’ (I) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
145 147 147
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Text 2: the ‘Battle of {@lº’ (II) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3: a bolt-hole in Iraq . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4: farming for the Sheikh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
152 155 157
Chapter 4: Marriage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1: traditional weddings: the city (I) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2: traditional weddings: the city (II) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3: the matchmaker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4: traditional weddings—a village . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 5: taking the rough with the smooth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 6: reflections of an old man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
160 169 169 183 186 188 190 194
Chapter 5: Domestic Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1: village reminiscences (I) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2: village reminiscences (II) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3: meals at home . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4: illness and its treatment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 5: peddlers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 6: childbirth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 7: everyday dress in Man¸ma . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 8: everyday dress in a Ba¥¸rna village . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 9: clothes for special occasions and jewellery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 10: ramadan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Domestic life in vernacular poetry: allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn ‘God punish you, o time!’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
204 204 204 209 215 217 221 223 227 229 230 233
Chapter 6: Childhood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . {›d al-}A¤¥¸: Ýiyya Biyya—a children’s ‘sacrifice’ ritual . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . RamaBAn: GargaPUn / GrEgSOn—a Gulf version of ‘trick or treat’ . . . . Text 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Koran school . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Children’s games . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Girls’ games . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
242 242 242 244 250 251 252 255 256 258 260 262 263 268 268
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Text 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Boys’ games . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
269 270 272 273 275 276
Chapter 7: Work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1: when BAPCO first opened . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2: a misunderstanding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3: a good boss . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4: stone-cutting—a shipwreck . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 5: coastal fishing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 6: working for the Water Board . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
279 280 280 282 285 288 291 295
Chapter 8: SawAlif . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 1: village fires . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 2: a poem and its meaning . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 3: riddles and jokes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Text 4: religious obligations and social mores . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
299 300 300 306 310 320
Appendices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1A Hull shapes of pearling boats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1B Boat parts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1C Sails, masts, and rigging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
329 331 332 333
Addenda and Corrigenda to Vol I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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GENERAL INTRODUCTION The primary objective of Dialect, Culture and Society in Eastern Arabia is to give a detailed description of the pre-oil era Arabic dialects and culture of the island state of Bahrain, as spoken by uneducated Bahrainis aged forty or over in the mid-1970s. The linguistic description contained in Volume I (Glossary), published in 2001, and Volume III (Dialect Description), which is forthcoming, is based on an extensive archive of tape-recorded material, gathered for its ethnographic as well as its purely linguistic interest. Topics covered include local Bahraini history, marriage customs, family life, traditional beliefs and practices, popular culture, children’s games, building techniques, agriculture, fishing, pearling-diving and employment in the pre-oil era more generally. This Volume provides a transcribed, translated and fully annotated representative selection of texts on these subjects. The original project out of which the present study grew was a sociolinguistic enquiry into generational language change in Bahrain, the results of which were extensively reported in the 1980s in book- and article-length publications. The present three-volume study is devoted exclusively to the language and culture of the least well educated half of the original population sample: a linguistic and cultural patrimony which, with the death of many of the generation which I recorded, has, almost overnight, been wiped from the collective memory and literally consigned to the museum as a curiosity. Apart from its intrinsic interest, the preservation of this culture for posterity, not as a wax-work but vividly described by those who actually lived it, is one of the main reasons for publishing this study. Approximately 90% of the textual material on which it is based has not been published before. Evidence, if it were needed, of the rapidity of social change in the Gulf is that the way of life described in my material is now, at the beginning of the 21st century, a favourite subject—albeit with the dialect suitably bowdlerized and modernized to make it intelligible to the younger generation— for television docu-soaps with nostalgic titles like FirGAn L-Awwal (‘The Neighborhoods of the Old Days’) and il-BEt il-P¶d (‘The Big (i.e. extendedfamily) House’). Despite all the material progress, somehow there seems to be a feeling in Bahrain that, as one of my illiterate informants aptly and directly put it thirty years ago, zAd il-xEr u qallat il-anAsa ‘we’re better off these days, but life isn’t so much fun’. The speaker sample for this study consists of approximately one hundred uneducated native speakers, divided approximately equally by sex and sectarian allegiance into {Arab (= indigenous Bahraini Sunnis) and Ba¥¸rna (= indigenous Bahraini Shº{a), and drawn from virtually every village and neighbourhood in Bahrain. Interviews lasting between fifteen minutes and an hour were recorded
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with each speaker. The vast majority of the interviews were conducted by other Bahrainis known to the interlocutors—usually better-educated relatives (often children or grandchildren), friends, or work colleagues, and in many cases the speakers were unaware they were being recorded (though this fact was subsequently revealed to them). All the tape-recordings were transcribed in situ with the help of native speakers and extensive field-notes made on detailed points of linguistic structure and local practices. The women in the sample were exclusively housewives (often recorded in specially arranged sessions at illiteracy eradication centres by their teachers), and the men either still active or retired fishermen, pearl-divers, stone-cutters, potters, allotment farmers, odd-job men, cleaners, messengers, small shop-keepers and market traders, usually interviewed at their places of work. Most of the conversations revolved around the customs, culture and society of the pre-oil Bahrain in which the speakers had grown up, personal experiences, technical descriptions of crafts and activities which were disappearing or had disappeared, and quite a lot of local gossip. Some elderly women spontaneously produced examples of xurAfAt (‘old wives’ stories’) and HazAwi (‘folk tales’), and some of the {Arab men told jokes, riddles, and anecdotes which they claimed had some historical basis and which were often studded with verses of dialect poetry whose connection with the story, on prompting, they explained. In addition, two other types of material were included in the data base: late 1970s recordings provided by Bahrain radio, and selections from two wellknown collections of Bahraini dialect poetry. The radio material consists of four fifteen minute radio plays in the {Arab dialect in the series TamTIliyyat il-QUsbUP (‘the Weekly Play’), and two half-hour comedies in the Man¸ma Ba¥¸rna dialect performed by the well-known Shº{i comedians J¸sim Khalaf and Õ¸li¥ al-Madanº in the series AHmad ibn AHmad ibn AHmad wa l-Ýajji ibn l-Ýajji ibn l-Ýajji (‘Ahmad son of Ahmad son of Ahmad, and the Pilgrim son of the Pilgrim son of the Pilgrim’), plus two interviews of personal reminiscences, one with the comedian J¸sim Khalaf, and the other with an illiterate Sunnº former stone-cutter and singer on a pearling boat. Both of these interviews were in the series PAlA ÞarIq il-Fann (‘In the Way of Art’), dedicated to local forms of popular culture. The plays and comedies, though fully- or (in the case of Khalaf and Madanº) semi-scripted, provided excellent examples of certain types of data—particularly arguments between family members and friends, albeit fictitious ones—which occurred relatively rarely in the main data bank, and which it would have been difficult to obtain by any other means. The same was true of the interviews. In my judgment, these plays and interviews tapped into the same levels of ‘core’ dialect found in the natural conversational material. The poetry also consisted of material drawn from both sides of the Bahrain sectarian divide: some dozen short comical and satirical poems composed in the 1960s by the Sunnº Bahraini dialect poet {Abdurra¥m¸n Rafº{, originally published in written form under the title QaRAQid ShaPbiyya (‘Popular Odes’), and subsequently recorded by him on tape, with some additional material, as il-PArab MA Khallaw Shay (‘There’s Nothing
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the Arabs Haven’t Done’). and half-a-dozen long poems in the munAFara (‘debate’) genre by various well-known Ba¥¸rna poets from Bahrain (all now dead) which form part of a Gulf-wide collection of Shº{º verse first published in Bahrain in 1955 and entitled TanfIh al-KhawAVir fI Salwat al-QAVin wa l-MusAfir (‘Mental Diversions to Amuse the Stay-at-Home and the Traveller’). The poetry in these collections is well known to ordinary Bahrainis of the older generation, and is often quoted in ordinary speech. Although, particularly in the case of the Shº{º material, it sometimes uses a ‘poetic’ register of the dialect, I have included examples of it because it undoubtedly forms part of the dialectal patrimony of the generations I was investigating. In the text of Volume I: Glossary I have been careful to mark examples taken from poetry ([poet]) to distinguish them from ordinary speech. Although the present work is based on field-work conducted in Bahrain in 1977-78, subsequent periods of residence and field-work in the Gulf, especially in Oman, 1985-7, and frequent visits to Bahrain, Kuwait, Qatar, the UAE, Yemen and Iraq over the last twenty-five years have provided me with a regional context for my dialect researches. This will be particularly evident in Volume III, in which, as well as giving a synchronic description, I attempt to relate the Bahraini dialects historically and geographically to those of central and southern Arabia and Iraq. I hope that Dialect, Culture and Society in Eastern Arabia will be of interest in the first place to fellow synchronic Arabic dialectologists and social historians of the 20th century Gulf. But I hope it will also be of interest to a wider audience. The more I have studied the speech patterns and vocabulary of illiterate speakers from Arabia, the more convinced I have become that their speech, relatively unaffected by the prescriptive grammar and standardized vocabulary of modern literary Arabic, provides a direct link with the ancient Arabic dialects, as recorded by the mediaeval philologists and lexicographers. Furthermore—and this is perhaps the most fascinating direction for future research—a study of the vocabulary of the material culture, and of certain popular beliefs and customs common in the area, points to the survival of ancient substrate links with the preIslamic cultures of eastern Arabia, Mesopotamia and even further afield (now, of course, Islamicised, or given a popular Islamic patina). Given the historical record, and the archaeological remains which continue to be uncovered, this should really come as no surprise, and suggests that dialectological ‘digging’ can provide evidence for the continuity of cultural practices which is complementary to that of archaeology and the written record.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS A long-running project like the one on which this study is based has acquired many friends and acquaintances along the way, and this is an opportunity to say a general ‘thank you’ to all who have helped me in one way or another in executing it. First and foremost, I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to the literally hundreds of ordinary Bahrainis who co-operated with me in carrying out my field work, whether as subjects or interviewers by proxy. On farms, in shops, in literacy centres, at road-sides and in their own homes, they spoke at length, often humorously, and sometimes with startling frankness about their lives, communities and memories. Field-work in Bahrain was not just an education, it was fun too. In particular, I should like to offer my thanks to two individuals without whom I should never have got access to much of my best data, or understood it properly once I had: {Alº Ibr¸hºm H¸r¢n of Banº Jamra village, then one of the agricultural advisers to village farmers at the Agricultural Experimental Research Station, Budayya{. and {›s¸ al-{Ar¸dº of {Ar¸d village, then an employee of the Ministry of Information. {Alº grasped the point of my research immediately. Innumerable visits on which I accompanied him to allotment farmers all over Bahrain to deliver radish seed, bags of sand, tomato seedlings, or agricultural advice were skillfully transformed by him, once business was done, into relaxed occasions for coffee, dates and sawAlif during which I could take advantage of the warmth of his relations with the farmers who were also his co-religionists, and let the tape-recorder run, usually to the accompaniment of a braying donkey and a diesel-powered irrigation pump puttering away in the background (a cacophony which encapsulated the technological revolution which farming was going through at that time). Apart from the dialectological and sociolinguistic value of such natural and purposeful conversation, these visits were a real education in the pragmatics of social interaction and the dynamics of village life. {Alº was also a tireless helper in the grind of transforming the tape-recorded words of old men with no teeth and no education (who even he on occasion had difficulty in understanding) into the clean, carefully annotated transcriptions on which this study is based. Equal in importance in the successful execution of my work was {›s¸, who not only introduced me to his elderly relatives in {Ar¸d, but was no less of a help than {Alº in transcribing recordings of speakers, especially the women, from both sides of the sectarian divide. This was a Herculean task on which we laboured together for hundreds of hours. {›s¸ who is himself a graduate in, and lifetime student of the Arabic language, has an insatiable curiosity about the dialects of eastern Arabia and their history, and provided me with a great deal of detail and insight on aspects of the morphology of the Bahraini dialects which were inevitably only partially revealed by the linguistically unstructured nature of a
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acknowledgements
tape-recorded corpus. To both these two friends and teachers, who taught me most of what I know about Bahrain and its dialects, all I can say in thanks and humility is mA gaRRartu yA SabAb! allAh yaPVIkum il-PAfya u yiVawwil Pumurkum inSAllah! I am also most grateful to the then Director of the Bahrain Illiteracy Eradication Programme (whose name unfortunately now escapes me) for allowing me access to the female adult learners in his charge at more than a dozen centres; to the many Bahraini teachers who conducted interviews in them on my behalf; and to the Heads of the then Bahrain Men’s and Women’s Teacher Training Colleges for allowing me to train their students in how to conduct sociolinguistic interviews with their elderly relatives. Other friends in Bahrain who provided a helping hand were Ýasan al-Mehrº, at that time Director General of Education, and his ministerial colleague Sa{ºd Þabb¸ra; Graham Ness, then British Council Representative and his wife Jenny; and Ýusayn |ayf and the late Aubrey Jum{a, both then teachers at the British Council. Thanks also to the late J¸sim Sharºda of Bahrain Radio who gave me copies of radio plays and other broadcast materials, and to the present Director of Bahrain Television, Kh¸lid al-Dhaw¸dº, for generously providing me with copies of recent video docu-soaps on ‘the old days’ which, though no material has been included from them in my data bank, provided a useful point of comparison with the broadcast materials of thirty years ago. Above all, I owe a special debt of gratitude to my friend Shawqº al-Zay¸nº for very kindly providing me with a base in Man¸ma in which to live and share his company for the whole period of my field-work. Shawqº was always interested in and supportive of my aims, unfailingly good-humoured, and I only hope the constant stream of visitors did not get on his nerves too much. In Britain, I should like to thank the then Social Science Research Council for granting me a post-Experience Research Fellowship, 1976-9, which gave me the time and funding to carry out the research on which this and many other previous studies are based, and the British Academy for subsequent small research grants. The Linguistics Department of the University of Cambridge provided a highly stimulating environment in which to do research, as has, much later, my present academic home at the Oriental Institute of the University of Oxford and Magdalen College, where much of this study has been written. I am also very grateful to my wife Deidre for her constant encouragement and interest, and her expert computer assistance. Last but not least, I should like to acknowledge here an intellectual debt to the late Professor Tom Johnstone of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, who in some sense was the godfather to this whole project. Tom was always happy to sacrifice his time and share his thoughts with one who was, when all’s said and done, was not a student of his nor even a member of his university. It is to Tom, the pioneer of Arabian Gulf dialectology, and still, twentytwo years after his death, its leading figure, that I dedicate this work.
general introduction
VOLUME II: ETHNOGRAPHIC TEXTS
xv
xvi
introduction
texts and text-types
xvii
INTRODUCTION TEXTS AND TEXT TYPES Historical background The aim of this second volume of Dialect, Culture and Society in Eastern Arabia is to present a picture of Bahraini culture and society covering the period from the late 1920s to the 1970s through the eyes, and in the words, of those who lived through that period. This was a half-century of tumultuous social and economic change marking the transition from ‘tradition’ to ‘modernity’, in which Bahrain emerged from a quasi-feudal system in which the majority of the population were effectively bonded slaves or landless serfs, to a modern industrial state. At the beginning of this period, there was a series of internal reforms, instigated by the British authorities, at first resisted but eventually accepted and indeed supported by the Ruling Family. The method by which pearl diving, then the mainstay of the economy, was financed was radically altered, breaking the power of the sea captains and boat-owners over the divers and their families once and for all. A new court and justice system was introduced which in theory guaranteed everyone, of whatever sectarian affiliation, a fair hearing. A civil list was drawn up which startled the last Ruler of the ancien régime, {›s¸ bin {Alº (ruled 1869-1923), by henceforth putting limits on his and his family’s personal share of the national income. A system of civil administration was put in place. The first ever cadastral survey was carried out, and an office of land registration set up. Taken together, these changes had the effect of reducing the power of the Ruling Family and its tribal allies: there would be no more arbitrary imprisonment, taxation, or coercion of the non-tribal elements of the population into forced labour, or misappropriation of their land. There was much resistance to these changes, and considerable violent sectarian strife between the Sunnº {Arab tribal elements of the population (notably the Daw¸sir) and the Shº{ite Ba¥¸rna, as ancient inequalities began to be evened out. Not long after these internal reforms had been introduced in the mid-1920s, came a momentous economic change, triggered by a coincidence of external factors. In Japan in 1930, a means of culturing pearls artificially and cheaply was invented. This came a year after the Wall Street Crash that signalled the start of an almost decade-long depression in the economies of the western nations, the main market for Gulf pearls. These two events together knocked the bottom out of the natural pearl market. Two years later, in 1932, came a third seismic event: the first Bahraini oil well ‘came in’ and the oil company began to recruit local labour en masse, introducing the novelty of a regular weekly wage for a fixed number of hours
xviii
introduction
worked in comparatively comfortable conditions. The rural Ba¥¸rna were the first to take up the new employment opportunities, finding that they could earn a regular wage by doing shift-work at the oil-company and still tend their family-run allotment farms in their spare time. Soon rural and urban Ba¥¸rna in other traditional trades followed suit, as did, rather more slowly, the {Arab, the tribally descended population whose men had provided most of the manpower for the pearling fleet, and who until then had regarded trades and manual labour of any kind as demeaning. The shift to wage-labour that began in the 1930s involved a concomitant shift away from employment patterns based on membership of tightly-knit local communities to a confessionally mixed, meritocratically organised labour-force in which the person best able to do the job moved up the pecking order regardless of social background—a revolutionary idea in a country with the social structure of Bahrain in the 1930s, in which the notion of {Arab taking orders from Ba¥¸rna was unheard of. Infrastructural developments—government schools, hospitals, central electricity and water supplies and a sewage system, housing projects—gradually spread throughout the country from the 1940s, beginning a slow revolution in the way people lived, which picked up pace after the Second World War and galloped ahead in the 1970s when the massive rises in the oil price fuelled further expansion. Politically, the arrangements by which Great Britain ensured the defence of Bahrain and handled its foreign relations were ended, and the British armed forces based in Bahrain departed. Bahrain achieved independence and joined the UN and the Arab League in 1971. The country embarked on a parliamentary experiment following national elections in December 1972, but the Ruler suspended the Constitutive Assembly so formed in August 1975. The texts The above is an outline of the social, economic and political background to the texts that form the substance of the present volume. Many of the texts refer to these events, and it would in fact be rather difficult to make sense of them without this background1. I have chosen the term ‘ethnographic’ to describe the texts presented here deliberately. The original objective of the project in the course of which they were gathered was sociolinguistic: to describe the dynamics of language variation and change in a modernising Gulf state by gathering and analysing a representative sample of natural speech data which took account of major social variables likely to be implicated in such change: place of residence, communal affiliation, educational attainment, age, and sex. To do this and avoid as far as
1 Often a much more detailed knowledge of events and people is required than this—where necessary, this information has been supplied in footnotes to the texts.
texts and text types
xix
possible the effects of the ‘observer’s paradox’2, it was important to deflect attention away, as far as possible, from my real, linguistic, objectives. In the case of some of the older women speakers, this was done by telling them that my research interest was their recollections of the Bahrain of their youth of thirty or more years before. The observer-effect was further mitigated by having the interviewing done by proxies (usually younger female relatives or other women the subjects knew well), and speaker comparability was assured by having the interviewers follow roughly the same mental ‘script’ of topics in each case. As for the older men, in particular those recorded at work on village farms, the conversational focus was on the business that the agricultural extension official whom I accompanied on farm visits had come to transact. This man was a trusted and well-known co-religionist of the farmers, and a villager himself to boot. He was well aware of my general aims, and very often, once the ostensible reason for his visit had been got out of the way, he would shift the conversation to more general topics concerned not just with farming, but village life and even moral and philosophical questions. If ‘ethnography’ means the description of a culture with reference to its customs and cultural practices, then the personal testaments, the descriptions of social customs, family responsibilities and structures, and the accounts of work practices, all of which emerged—accidentally, as it were—from the interviews and conversations of which these texts form a selection, without doubt qualify as raw materials for an ethnographic description of the society of eastern Arabia as it was in the middle decades of the last century. Although quite a lot of attention is paid to explicating purely linguistic matters, the main focus in this volume is on piecing together such an ethnographic jigsaw. But these personal reminiscences were not the only ethnographically valuable elements to emerge. Of equal interest were the ideational and stylistic means that some speakers used to describe their experiences or to put their views and philosophies across. The final chapter has been devoted to a genre of talk known locally as sawAlif, which, in the male half of society, can involve the citing of dialect poetry, riddles, puns, aphorisms and the posing of verbal challenges of various kinds, either for their own sake or to underline the significance of particular episodes in a narrative. The sawAlif of women, on the other hand, often involved patterns of repetitious phrase making and ‘language recycling’of one kind or another, and a variety of syntactic and rhetorical devices to ‘involve’ the listener emotionally in the speaker’s unfolding description. The evidence suggests that these are geographically widely dispersed techniques in Arab story telling3 and are important elements in any ‘ethnography
2 One can only gather accurate speech data through observation, but the speaker’s consciousness that he is being observed changes the nature of the data he produces, and therefore what is observed. 3 They have been found in many areas and types of community from Algeria to the Gulf.
xx
introduction
of speaking’. They occur not just in the texts included in Chapter 9 specifically to illustrate them but in many other perfectly everyday contexts. A word is in order here on the notions of ‘text’ and ‘context’. All the recorded material was in the form of conversations, sometimes between two people in private, sometimes between several people in public, such as in a maGlis where many people might be present who did not take an active part, or in a farmer’s hut where all might chip in with comments. Consequently, speakers sometimes saw themselves as self-consciously engaging in a species of public performance, albeit for the benefit of a ‘local’ public well known to them who may have heard the ‘performance’ several times before, and in other cases seemed almost unaware of being recorded, as they took part in a private exchange played out against a shared communal history, domestic milieu, and emotional canvas. These differences of speech context made a difference to aspects of the organisation of the conversations recorded, from turn-taking rules, to forms of personal address, to public versus private vocabularies. None of the material, however, struck me, or the native speakers who helped me transcribe it, as artificial or forced—just different performances to fit different contexts, in each case consonant with local conventions. ‘Text’ is applied in a fairly loose fashion. All I mean by it is a stretch of conversation that may last anything from a few minutes to half-an-hour or more which has some purpose: telling a story about oneself, explaining a childhood game, arguing the merits of a case, for instance. Some lengthy conversations during which the topic, interlocutors and purpose of the conversation changed have been broken down and presented as several texts in different chapters of the book, and in some texts long pauses or irrelevant interruptions have been excised (noted as ************* in the text). Except for this, the texts have not been ‘cleaned up’ in any way: hesitations, false starts, ungrammatical turns of phrase and the variability in pronunciation which is typical of real data, often of the performance of a single speaker in the same conversation have all been kept in. Points at which the tape was simply unclear are marked [*]. A cross-tabulation of speakers and texts is provided. There are a total of 39 speakers represented and 55 texts. 13 of the speakers are from {Arab (A) communities and 26 from Ba¥¸rna (B) ones, selected from a total sample of around 100 uneducated speakers4. This numerical imbalance, as is explained in detail in Language Notes, reflects the fact that in Bahrain there are communities of urban Ba¥¸rna who speak an A dialect, or one heavily influenced by A speech (the converse is not true); it is also the case that there are more separate B communities than A ones (see maps), and several distinct sub-varieties of the B dialect. In some chapters (Pearl Diving, Agriculture, Domestic Life) I have included, as a postscript, excerpts on these subjects from the works of well-known local 4 A further 50 or so educated speakers formed part of the original sociolinguistic project, but they are omitted from the present study.
texts and text types
xxi
vernacular poets, who in some cases go back to the 1930s. Vernacular poetry in urban Arab societies is almost by definition littérature engagée and is often used to provide the critical commentary on the contemporary scene (social and political) that the state-controlled media and the ‘official’ poets fail to do. The wit is always pithy, sometimes sardonic, and the idiom pungently local5: a poetic ‘voice of the people’ which makes a fitting complement to the actual voices of the real people recorded here.
5
I have tried to reflect this in my translations.
xxii
introduction
texts and text-types
xxiii
xxiv
introduction
texts and text types
xxv
INDEX OF SPEAKERS AND TEXTS PD A CR M DL CH W S
Pearl Diving Agriculture Communal Relations Marriage Domestic Life Childhood Work SawAlif
{Arab S
from
sex
texts
Al-Ýidd Al-Ýidd ݸlat Bu M¸hir, Mu¥arraq ݸlat Bu M¸hir, Mu¥arraq ݸlat Bu M¸hir, Mu¥arraq ݸlat Bu M¸hir, Mu¥arraq Budayya{ Ar-Rif¸{ ash-Shargº
map ref 1/45 1/45 1/48 1/48 1/48 1/48 1/44 1/51
1 2 4 5 6 7 8 10
f f m m m m m f
15
Al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma
2/7
f
21 22 146 150
Qu¤aybiyya, Man¸ma Al-Ýidd Al-Ý¢ra, Man¸ma Al-Ý¢ra, Man¸ma
2/10 1/45 2/6 2/6
f f m m
CH1, CH3 CH5, CH10 PD1 PD2 PD3 PD5 CR2, W2, S2 CH2, CH4, CH8, CH13 M2, DL3, DL4, DL7 DL5 DL5 W3 W1
S
from
sex
texts
9 16
Mu¥arraq Al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma
map ref 1/48 2/7
m f
18 19
Guf¢l, Man¸ma Salm¸niyya, Man¸ma
2/9 2/8
f f
PD4 M2, CH7, DL3, DL4, DL7 M1, M3, DL 10 M1, DL 10
Ba¥¸rna
xxvi
index of speakers and texts
34 35 36 38
R¸s Rumm¸n, Man¸ma R¸s Rumm¸n, Man¸ma Al-Dir¸z San¸bis
2/5 2/5 1/11 1/33
41 44 46 49 52 55 56 60 62 71 72 74 76 78 128 156 162 168
Jidd Ýafª Nuw¹dr¸t Barbar Sanad Al-Dir¸z Bil¸d al-Qadºm Bil¸d al-Qadºm Al-Kawara Karr¸na Sitra B¢ri {@lº {@lº Abu Õaybi{ R¸s Rumm¸n, Man¸ma Barbar Al-Mukh¸rga, Man¸ma Õadad
1/16 f 1/28 f 1/4 m 1/34 m 1/11 m 1/6 m 1/6 m 1/17 m 1/19 m 1/41 m 1/7 m 1/3 m 1/3 m 1/1 m 2/5 m 1/4 m 2/2 m 1/36 m
f f f f
CH11 CH11 CH6 DL2, DL9, CH12, S1 M4, DL1, DL8 M5, DL6 W5 A2 A4 W6 A3, CR3 A1 CH9 S3 M6 CR1 S4 A6 W4 A5 CH14 CR4
texts and text-types
xxvii
LANGUAGE NOTES The notes below are intended to summarise some of the main phonological and morphological features of the Bahraini dialects in order to enable readers better to understand the texts. No attention is paid here to syntax or lexicon. Syntax will be a major topic in Volume III, and the dialectal lexicon has already been covered in Volume I. Readers should refer to that to check the meaning of any words whose meanings are not clear from the accompanying translations. Where appropriate (especially in the chapters on Agriculture and Pearl Diving), local technical terminology is dealt with in the short background essays that open each chapter, and there are further explanatory footnotes to each text where necessary. The phonological and morphological features of the {Arab and Ba¥¸rna dialects are dealt with grosso modo below in turn, followed by short notes on the dialect of each speaker. From these it will be apparent that the conformity of individual speakers to the communal dialect as described in the general notes is always a matter of degree. Though no speaker in the sample could be described as well educated, and many were illiterate, some had acquired knowledge, however sketchy, of varieties of Arabic different from their own. This was especially true of some of the Ba¥¸rna village men, and was due to two main factors: their relatively greater degree of contact, compared to their women folk, with speakers from outside their own villages, and their regular attendance at the mosque and mAtam, which had familiarised them with the Classical Arabic phraseology of the religious texts read by qurrAQ (often from Iraq), and, to some extent, with ‘educated’ patterns of speech. Uneducated Ba¥¸rna village women, on the other hand, were reservoirs of dialect conservatism. Much the same could be said of the A communities: the older generation of uneducated women, especially those living in A ‘strongholds’ like Mu¥arraq and al-Ýidd, still spoke dialects relatively untouched by outside influences, but their men folk showed more evidence of outside contact. In some cases, there is a ‘mismatch’ between a speaker’s community affiliation and his/her dialect. This is especially true of Man¸ma, the capital, and largest centre of population. This mismatch always involves members of the urban B community who speak what sounds like an A dialect: Speakers 9, 16, 18 and 19 are good examples. These were all people who had grown up in city neighbourhoods which were mainly (overwhelmingly in S9’s case) A in their social composition, and/or had spent their working lives with communities of A speakers. The opposite phenomenon—members of the A community speaking a B dialect—did not occur in my data, and was not reported by Bahrainis themselves as occurring. The conditions which might have brought it about—families
xxviii
language notes
from the A community living and working in a predominantly B environment— did not exist at the time of my research, and had not, as far as I know, ever existed historically. Nor did I observe any cases of the older generations of B villagers speaking an A dialect (although among the men there were A influences noticeable). In the past, of course, B villagers had never had A neighbours, and many, particularly the women, had had little personal contact with A dialect speakers, such was the degree of social separation between the communities. With the tendency to greater mobility, the advent of ‘mixed’ living in new developments like Ýamad Town and {›s¸ Town, and working environments which are community-neutral, all this is rapidly changing. However, at the time of my fieldwork, the asymmetrical nature of the community-dialect ‘mismatch’ was very clear: middle-aged and elderly members of the urban B community who spoke an A dialect were not that uncommon, but members of the A community, of whatever age, who spoke a B dialect did not seem to exist. This was an indication of the covert prestige and dominance, in social terms, of the A dialect over the B. There seems little doubt that, long-term, the B village dialects will gradually die out as the villages where they were once spoken become dormitory communities whose literate young inhabitants commute to work in the confessionally mixed work places of the capital1. A mixed and levelled urban dialect, in which the phonology and morphology is essentially a modified version of that of the A community (i.e. without many of the features which already, at the time of my research, were seen as A-dialect markers) is likely to replace them. {Arab dialects (A) Phonology Consonants: Notable features of the consonantal inventory, compared with OA (= ‘Old Arabic’, the putative ancestor of the modern dialects) and other modern Arabic dialects are:
T D F F y g
OA T D F B G q
Examples TalATa ‘three’ hADi ‘this’ Fahar ‘he went out’ Faww ‘fire’ yIt ‘I came’ gAl ‘he said’
1 By the turn of the 21st century, agriculture, which was still, relatively speaking, thriving in the mid-1970s, was all but dead.
language notes G J/G/q J/G/q k C
q q J k k
xxix
GIma ‘price, value’ (front vowel environments) taJaddum/ taGaddum / taqaddum ‘progress’ (neologisms) JEr/ GEr / qEr ‘other’ kubur ‘size’ (back vowel environments) CibIr ‘big, old’ (front vowel environments)
Historically, g < OA q, which in front vowel environments was then fronted and affricated to G, e.g. GIma ‘value’, mGAbil ‘opposite’. In similar environments, OA k was fronted and affricated to C, e.g. CibIr ‘great, old’ HaCi ‘talk, gossip’. But these developments did not operate categorically: Gidir ‘cooking pot’, but gidar ‘he was able’, Cibd ‘liver’, but kitab ‘he wrote’, and in a few items C is heard in back-vowel environments, e.g. smUC ‘fishes’, CUd ‘perhaps, maybe’. In a few cases, the result of the partial operation of the rule was a minimal pair, e.g. kitab ‘he wrote’, but Citab ‘gold pendants attached to women’s plaits’. In a number of verbs, the stop/affricate contrast has been morphologised to mark tense/aspect, e.g. saggam / yisaGGim ‘to give an advance payment (pearling)’. y < OA G categorically, but G as a secondary dialectal development of g did not usually undergo this further change, except in a few items such as yassam ‘to divide up’ < Gassam < gassam. G in foreign borrowings is usually preserved, e.g. GUti (Urdu) ‘shoes’, GAm (Persian) ‘pane of glass’, GEg (English) ‘jug’. Neologisms with MSA q are often pronounced with a fricative release [F]or as a voiced version of q (= [G]), e.g. [taFaddum/ taGaddum] ‘progress’. A consequence has been a phonological merger of the allophones of dialectal J (= F/ G / q in free variation in the A dialects) with those of q in MSA neologisms, and in cases where speakers replace a word that underwent the historical q → g (and further → G) change with its MSA analogue, e.g. GirIb ‘near’ in older speakers’ speech may be [qari˘b], [Fari˘b] or [Gari˘b] (for MSA qarIb) in the speech of the more educated, especially women. Educated speakers have a few q - G minimal pairs within the same root as a result of borrowing from MSA, e.g. ytiGaddam ‘he comes forward’, but yatqaddam ‘he is making progress’ (in an abstract sense). The OA glottal Q disappeared initially e.g. kal ‘he ate’, xaD ‘he took’ or, in some roots, was replaced by w, e.g. winsa ‘fun’, twannas ‘to have fun’, twanna ‘to hesitate’ or y, e.g. yaddam ‘he presented a guest with food’; in final position, it was replaced by w, e.g. Faww ‘fire’, yizaw ‘30th part of the Koran’ (< GuzQ) or disappeared, e.g. aSya ‘things’, niSi ‘starch’; medially it was usually replaced by vowel length, e.g. yIt ‘I came’, rAs ‘head’, and after medial A by y, e.g. SAyil ‘removing’. Q now occurs even in uneducated speech, however, in a few items which are MSA-derived, e.g. yisQal ‘he asks’ (alongside the dialect form ysAyil). l and r have velarised allophones in some words, especially when a labial, and
xxx
language notes
even more commonly when a labial and g are present. The whole word may become velarised, e.g. [gÚAbÚIlÚ] ‘before’, [gÚAlÚbÚ] ‘heart’, [gÚumÚArÚ] ‘moon’, [rÚAbÚIlÚ] ‘rubber’ [rÚAmÚIlÚ] ‘sand’. Vowels: Positional restrictions i occurs to the exclusion of a in open, non-final syllables, except in the contiguity of guttural consonants, x, J, H, P, h, or where the following consonant is l, n or r when at the same time the vowel of the following syllable is a or A2. Thus kitab ‘he wrote’, but barad ‘it got cold’, tkallam ‘he spoke’ but tkallimaw ‘they spoke’. Some older A speakers also raise final a in non-emphatised environments, e.g. bridi ‘hail’ (< barada), gumni ‘we got up’. The labials have a rounding and backing effect on i (→ u) whether i is original or < a, especially if a velar, emphatic, or l or r are also present e.g. mukAn ‘place’, buRal ‘onions’, Srubat ‘she drank’, but xSiba ‘piece of wood’, where b is present but none of the other factors. i and u are virtually in complementary distribution in open syllables, but not in closed ones. i (and u in labial environments) in unstressed non-final open syllable is deleted except in very careful speech, and a prosthetic vowel is inserted if the deleted vowel is in the first syllable and a consonant-final word precedes, e.g. itgUl ‘you say’, igUl (< ygUl < yigUl) ‘he says’. Medially doubled consonants are reduced, e.g. (i)tPallim ‘you (m) teach’ → (i)tPalmUn ‘you (pl) teach’, labbisaw ‘they dressed’ → labsOha ‘they dressed her’, in both cases because of the shift of stress in the suffixed form. Final A and AQ are shortened, and when not in contiguity with a guttural, emphatic, l or r, and when preceded by an open syllable, raised by some speakers, e.g. niSi ‘starch’ (but also inSa, iSta ‘winter’, irda ‘cloak’), but always Hamra ‘red (f)’, ramBa ‘hot ground’. Vowel quality a is realized: as [Q] or [E] where gutturals (excluding h) and emphatics are absent, e.g. [hQli] ‘my family’, [dESS] ‘he entered’; as [a] in guttural environments, e.g. [ba÷ad] ‘after’ [xalle˘t] ‘I/you allowed’; as [A] with an emphatic, and often with labials, e.g. [tÚAlÚÚ lÚ] ‘mist’, [xAmÚArÚ] ‘alcohol’. Medial i is retracted, e.g. [bInt] ‘girl’; in final position it is closer and more front, e.g. [rI¥ti] ‘you (f) went’; with emphatics it is lowered, e.g. [yIrÚtÚ√nÚ] ‘he gabbles’. u is back and rounded, e.g. [SrUbQt] ‘she drank’, [mUkA˘n] ‘place’.
2
EADS 27.
language notes
xxxi
Generally A has a backed and rounded quality in any phonetic environment. This is particularly noticeable in Mu¥arraq and Al-Ýidd, and particularly in the speech of women, e.g. [hÅ˘Di] or even [hç˘Di] ‘this’, [/Å:na] ‘I’. (This phonetic feature is not marked in the texts). I is a close, front vowel, but with the emphatics is more centralized, e.g. [bˆ˘sÚ] ‘keel of a boat’. E and O correspond to the OA diphthongs ay, aw and occur medially, e.g. sEf ‘sword’, bOg ‘theft’. Where Aw occurs medially in multisyllabic forms, it is often reduced to A, e.g. mithAS < mithAwiS ‘arguing’, hAn < hAwin ‘mortar’. In verb forms, final ay and aw → E and O when suffixed, e.g. gAlaw ‘they said’, gAlO li ‘they told me’, fitHay ‘open (f)!’, fitHEh ‘open (f) it!’. O occurs finally in a few words, now obsolete, which appertain to seafaring and traditional culture, e.g. HalwAyO ‘jack pomfret’ (type of fish), ndEndO ‘type of dance with drum accompaniment’. O is also suffixed to certain personal names as a hypocoristic, e.g. maryamO, xalIlO, HusnO. Syllable structure and consonant clusters: The A dialects have the so-called ghawa-syndrome, whereby forms which have a CaCCvC(v) syllable structure in which C2 is a guttural consonant, become CCaCv(C), e.g. nxala ‘palm-tree’. Concatenations of more than two short open syllables are also normally resyllabified: CvCvCv(C) → CCvCv(C), e.g. Srubat ‘she drank’, smiCa ‘a fish’. Cluster reduction in one high-frequency phrase is universal: git < gilt, ‘I/ you (m) said’ in phrases like git lik/ lah ‘I told you/ him’. The treatment of nongeminate final clusters in words of the structure CvCC in CLA depends on the preceding vowel and the consonants: (a) (i) (ii) (iii)
CLA CaCC: If C2 is l, n, or r, the form is stable, e.g. galb ‘heart’, Danb ‘sin’, warC ‘thigh’. If C2 is a guttural, CaCaC is normal, e.g. baHar ‘sea’, Sahar ‘month’. In other cases, the A dialects have CaCvC, in which the v is usually i but in some words a, e.g. Habil ‘rope’, Vabix ‘cooking’ xamar ‘alcohol’. There are a few exceptions, e.g. wagt/ wakt ‘time, weather, climate’
(b) CLA CiCC and CuCC: (i) If C2 is l, n,or r, the form is stable, e.g. PilC ‘chewing gum’, bunk ‘essence’, Pirs ‘marriage’. (ii) In all other cases, the A dialects have CvCvC with vowel harmony, e.g. SuJul ‘work’, Fuhur ‘noon’, dihin ‘oil, fat’, CiTir ‘amount’, xubuz ‘bread’, biSit ‘man’s cloak’. There are odd exceptions, e.g. rizg ‘sustenance’, RibH/ RubH ‘morning’, and also exceptions involving the absence of vowel harmony, e.g. (Mu¥arraq example) yizaw ‘part’ (CLA GuzQ).
xxxii
language notes
Any CvCvC derived via the above rules reverts to CvCC- with a vowel-initial suffix. The treatment of CCC clusters in the A dialects has been partly morphologised. Where the cluster is a consequence of the suffixation of geminate verbs, most speakers insert an epenthetic schwa, e.g. Vaggvha < Vagg + ha ‘he beat her’ (RAdvna/ RAdina ‘it hit us’ in hollow verbs for the same speakers) but reduce the cluster in nouns, e.g. Hagha ‘her right, for us’ (< Hagg + ha). Otherwise, CCC clusters are stable, e.g. bintkum ‘your daughter’, Siftkum ‘I saw you’, though some A speakers (e.g. S2), unpredictably, have occasional forms of the binitkum, Sifitkum type. The only non-verbal CCC clusters where A speakers normally epenthesise after the second C are Pind and kill, viz. Pindvkum, killvhum, though reduced kilhumtype forms (like those of the B dialects) are heard in the A dialects of Man¸ma. Phonotactics: l in the imperative xall ‘let’ > n before the –ni and -na suffixes, e.g. xanna ‘let’s…’ For some speakers, this assimilation is general, e.g. StaJanna ‘we worked’. J > b in the imperfect forms of the verb baJa ‘to want, need’ e.g. abbi, tabbi, etc h in the 3rd person suffixes -ha and -hum is assimilated to the -t of the 3rd f sing perfect verb and other f forms, e.g. Srubatta ‘she drank it (f)’, rgubattum ‘their neck’. t in ti- verbal prefixes of various kinds is assimilated to: T, V, d, D, F, C, G, s, R, S as a consequence of the deletion unstressed i in open syllable e.g. (i)RRIr ‘she becomes’, (i)VVawwar ‘it developed’, (i)TTUr ‘it rises up’. A peculiarity of the A dialects is the replacement of S by C in the verb CAf, yCUf ‘to see’, possibly originally via a phonological reanalysis of tS in forms like itSUf ‘you see’ as C, and then its generalisation to all parts of the verb. Morphology Pronouns: independent Ana inta inti/ intay huwwa/ vhwv/ vhuwwv hiyya/ vhyv/ vhiyyv iHna
suffixed -i (poss) -ni (obj) -ik -iC -ah/ -vh -ha -na
language notes intu/ intaw hum/ vhmv/ vhummv
xxxiii
-kum -hum
Interrogatives: All dialects have: SlOn ‘how?’, ‘what kind?’, kEf/ CEf ‘how?’, Cam ‘how much/ many?’, wEn ‘where?’ mita/ muta ‘when?’ min and minhu/ minhi (f) ‘who?’ S-fI + pron ‘what’s wrong with…? S-hast ‘what’s the matter?’ Specifically A dialects forms are: Sinhu/ Sinhi ‘what?’, SingAyil ‘what sort?’, Sformations: S- + verb, ‘what…?’ e.g. S-gilt ‘what did you say?’; + prep, S-Haggah, S-PalEh, S-lEh, S-minnah ‘why, because of what?’; + noun: S-kiTir, S-gadd ‘how much/many?’, wara + pron ‘why?’ yahu/ yahi ‘which one?’ Verbs: a) Suffix stems In the A dialects, the factor determining the first, open, vowel in the 3rd person masc sing suffix stem is phonological (see above) A dialects Sarab zaPal kiTar Farab kitab difaP
CLA Sariba (trans) zaPila (intrans) kaTura (intrans) Baraba kataba dafaPa
‘he drank’ ‘he got upset’ ‘it grew more numerous’ ‘he hit’ ‘he wrote’ ‘he pushed’
Suffix stem paradigm: kitab ‘he wrote’ 1st 2nd m 2nd f 3rd m 3rd f
sing kitabt kitabt kitabti/ kitabtay kitab ktibat
pl kitabna kitabtaw ktibaw
3rd person forms of the kitbat, kitbaw-type are also common, particularly in the A dialect of Man¸ma. The -aw pl suffix becomes -O on suffixation, but some speakers, especially those from Man¸ma, have this vowel (reduced to -o) generalised to unsuffixed forms also. 1st and 2nd person suffixes can be replaced in any type of ss stem with the -Et-
xxxiv
language notes
type forms found in final-weak verbs, so that all verb types are reduced to a single paradigm, e.g. kitbEt ‘I/you wrote’, gAlEna ‘we said’, tzawwiGEtaw ‘you (pl) got married’. Such forms are recognised as stereotypical of the A community, and are now dying out. (b) Prefix stems If C2 or C3 is a guttural, the theme vowel is a, and the prefix vowel i e.g. yigPad, yiVbax. A few older speakers have forms of the yagPad-type in this verb class (as in Najd). If C1 is a guttural, the stem vowel is i and the prefix vowel a, the form then being resyllabified according to the rule already given, e.g. yParf < yaPrif, yxaVib < yaxVub. In non-guttural stems, the A dialect follows the CLA system: theme vowel a for CLA a, otherwise theme vowel i or u depending on the consonants in the C2 and C3 position, with the prefix vowel typically opposite in height from the theme vowel, e.g. yilbas, yiSrab but yabriz, yaDkir, yaRbir. Prefix stem paradigm: yaktib ‘he writes’ 1st 2nd m 2nd f 3rd m 3rd f
sing Aktib taktib tikitbIn yaktib taktib
pl naktib tkitbUn/ itkitbUn ykitbUn/ ikitbUn
These are the canonical syllable structures for A ps forms except those with C1 = guttural, which in the non-suffixed forms are of the general shape e.g. yParf ‘he knows’, yixaVib ‘he betrothes’. Brief notes on individual speakers Speakers 1 and 2: both female; Al-Ýidd (m1/45): Childhood texts 1,3,5,10 These two speakers, both in their 50s and neighbours, speak a type of A dialect typical of Mu¥arraq and al-Ýidd, with very noticeably backed varieties of A in all environments. In the extracts reproduced here, there is a mix of CCvCvC and CvCCvC 3rd person ss verb forms, e.g. (S1) iPyizaw and iRbaHaw versus giPdaw and zirPaw. The former type appears to be the original one for al-Ýidd, but such unpredictable mixing is common even among those apparently least exposed to outside influences. S1 shows a good example of the older dialectal, non-MSA, pattern of strict noun-adjective agreement where the noun is non-human: HfErAt RJErAt ‘little planting holes’ (S10 below, another conservative dialect speaker, produces another example).
language notes
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Speakers 4,5,6,7: all male; ݸlat Bu M¸hir, Mu¥arraq (m1/48): Pearl Diving texts 1,2,3,5. Speaker 9 from the B community (Pearl diving text 4) who had lived his life in ݸlat Bu M¸hir is also included here for convenience The language of these texts is that of the A community of Mu¥arraq, almost completely free of outside influence, whether of other dialects or MSA. For example, in all five, nouns of the CLA CvCvCv type, and suffix stem 3rd person verbs are overwhelmingly of the CCvCvC type, e.g. S5 vwzira, smiCa, S4 vHriga, irkubaw, vFharaw, inzifOh, irgidaw, etc with only a couple of verbs of the CvCCvC type. There is only one clear instance of a phonological classicism: qalIl in text 3. The merger of q and J, noticeable in the speech of younger A speakers, is less in evidence with these elderly men, who tend to have g or G for almost all words which had OA q (i.e. their dialects preserve the results of an older change) and mostly J in words where OA had J, though Speaker 5 has GazIr ‘deep sea’ (S51) and, from the same root, Speaker 9 Gizar (S9-3) (compare the Jizr of the latter’s interlocutor, his nephew, who spoke an urban B dialect). The morphologisation of the g/G developments of OA q are a feature of the speech of conservative speakers of the A dialects such as these, e.g. S4-3, ss verb: mA allah waffag lihum maHHAr ‘if God did not grant them any clams’, and S4-6, ps verb: lEn allah yiwafGvh ‘if God grants him success’. The ghawa-syndrome is in evidence, but not all words are affected, e.g. all speakers have maHmal/ maHmil ‘ship’ rather than mHamil. There are some individual peculiarities. Speaker 5 has a tendency to raise final -a to -i in non-emphatised environments, e.g. bridi ‘hail’ (< barada), riHni ‘we went’, and daSSEni ‘we put to sea’. This is an old feature of the A dialects, particularly of Mu¥arraq and al-Ýidd, which already at the time of my research appeared to be disappearing. Like many A speakers, all of these have a tendency to use (hA)Di, the overtly feminine form of the demonstrative, when referring to masculine nouns or male persons, e.g. (S6) Tawwar Di ‘that man fired into the air’. Speaker 8: male; Budayya{ (m1/44): Communal Relations text 2, Work text 2, SawAlif text 2 The dialect of S8, aged about 60, conforms closely to the sketch given above of the A dialects above, though with a few idiosyncrasies which may be vestiges of his community’s historically south Najdi origin, such as his use of hummalE as a presentative particle, and hintEn rather than normal A TintEn ‘two’. An examination of S8’s treatment of words containing reflexes of OA q and J in Communal Relations text 2 gives an idea of the complexity of this variable. In the commonest words, and local technical terms, the dialectal reflex of OA q is g, e.g. gAl/ yigUl, gaPad, gAm, gital, fOg, buga, tifag, and G in a few, e.g. Gid (< OA qad) and vmGaflIn ‘having closed the (pearling) season’. These are the normal reflexes of OA q for elderly uneducated A speakers like Speaker 8 in such ‘core’ dialect words. But in a few words, Speaker 8 realises q as either a fricative
xxxvi
language notes
J, e.g. taJrIban ‘approximately’ or a voiced uvular stop: GImatta ‘its value’ (repeated several times), GurQAn ‘Koran’, and maGbUl ‘accepted’. In these cases, J and G seem to be attempts at an ‘educated’ pronunciation of q in words which the speaker deems require it for contextual emphasis (the repeated GIma instead of normal A GIma) or because the word itself is not part of the dialect vocabulary (taJrIban, GurQAn). In the case of the reflexes of OA J, Speaker 8 varies unpredictably between J and G: JalIba ‘defeat’ (twice), vf Jafla ‘by surprise’, JlEVa (name), but RGIr/ RGAr ‘young’ (twice), GarSa/ aGrAS ‘drinking vessel’ (four times), GOR ‘pearl diving’ (three times). It was often difficult to be certain of the transcription in these cases: voicing and a retracted point of articulation were always present, but the degree of retraction and the presence of a fricative release were variable. For this A speaker, and many of his generation, J and G (and for some speakers (especially women) q) would seem to be in free variation as dialectal reflexes of OA J. As far as etymological q is concerned, what seems to be happening in the case of neologisms imported from MSA (e.g. taJrIban), and MSA analogues of words that normally have another dialectal reflex altogether, e.g. GIma (normally GIma) for MSA qIma, is that the dialectal allophones of J are being applied to their pronunciation, again apparently in free variation. Speaker 10: female; Ar-Rif¸{ ash-Shargº (m1/51): Childhood texts 2,4,8,13 Speaker 10, aged about 50, speaks an A dialect which is ‘conservative’ in several ways. Notable are (a) occasional ps verb forms in which the vowelling is a-a rather than the expected i-a or a-a, e.g. nagPad ‘we remain’ (text 4, S10-1)—this is recognised by Bahrainis as an ‘old’ Bedouin A feature, not geographically specific, and now less common; (b) like many women of the older generation, S10 frequently uses diminutive forms, e.g. HlEwa ‘nice little’ (text 2, S10-2); (c) manAFir RJErAt ‘little mirrors’ is another example of strict noun-adjective agreement in non-human nouns, the plural of a feminine singular noun, manFara, being given feminine plural agreement in the adjective (see notes on Speaker 1 above). Speaker 15: female; al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma (m2/7): Marriage text 2, Domestic Life texts 3, 4, 7 Speaker 15 speaks a Man¸man A dialect very similar to that of the Speakers 18 and 19 (qv under Ba¥¸rna dialects). She shows sporadic mildly formalising features, such as non-dialectal q in, e.g. yitqaddam. Speaker 21: female; Qu¤aybiyya, Man¸ma (m2/10); Speaker 22: female; Al-Ýidd (m1/45): Domestic Life text 5 Both these A women (neighbours) were living in Qu¤aybiyya, though S22 was originally from al-Ýidd. Both speak an A dialect, though in the case of S21 it is of a more ‘mixed’ type: where she has HaGAGIm ‘itinerant peddlers’, and occasionally other words like mIHtAGIn with G < G, S22 has categorical y. S21 also has a more front variety of A, compared with S22’s backed and somewhat rounded
language notes
xxxvii
quality. This is a salient difference between the dialects of those from the A community born and brought up in Man¸ma and those of their co-religionists from Mu¥arraq and al-Ýidd, and is particularly noticeable in the speech of women. Speaker 146: male; Al-Ý¢ra, Man¸ma: Work text 3; Speaker 150; male; Al-Ý¢ra, Man¸ma: Work text 1 These two men speak Man¸man A dialects. That is, while both show phonological features typical of all A speakers, e.g. y < G, G < g (in GirIb ‘soon’ (S150-2)), these are not categorical: thus xarG (S146-3) ‘pocket-money’ not xaray, tiHarriGvh (S150-8) not tiHaryvh, gaffal (S150-8) not Gaffal. There is also an absence of the typically A ghawa-syndrome, with forms like naJsil not nJasil (S146-1) and yiHkumvh not yHakmvh (S150-6). A speakers of the same generation from Mu¥arraq or al-Ýidd tend to have the A variant on such variables categorically. Morphologically, the A negative particles mub (S150-2) and humb (S146-3) occur, as does a hollow verb form of the type rAHEt ‘I went’ (S146-3), a marker of older, ‘conservative’ A speech. Ba¥¸rna dialects (B) Phonology Consonants: As a group, all, or almost all the Ba¥¸rna dialects share the following consonantal features:
f d B B
OA T D B F
Examples falAfa ‘three’ hAdi ‘this’ Baww ‘fire’ Ball ‘he remained’
However, a cluster of B villages immediately to the west of Man¸ma, notably San¸bis (m1/33), seem to have had D < OA D, not d, the most frequently encountered B village reflex, as their original dialectal from, even if it now varies unpredictably with d in some words. In other words, D for those B (old) village speakers who have it consistently is probably not the result of recent dialect contact with the A speakers. There are further local differences as follows: (a) The treatment of OA G
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language notes
For the vast majority of villagers and townspeople alike, the normal B reflex is a voiced alveolar affricate G. The exceptions are one quarter of Man¸ma, R¸s Rumm¸n (m2/5), and the villages to the immediate west of the capital—San¸bis (m1/33), Mani (m1/23), ad-D¹h (m1/9) and, several miles further west, ad-Dir¸z (m1/11), in all of which the dialectal reflex is a semi-vowel y, as in the A dialects and in the Ba¥¸rna dialects of neighbouring eastern Saudi Arabia. In the central villages of {@lº (m1/3) and B¢ri (m1/7), the reflex is a palatal affricate [d∆], or a palatalised velar stop [g∆] similar to the reflex of OA G found among northern Omani sedentaries and mountain dwellers. However, this pronunciation is now typical only of the older speakers in these villages. (b) The treatment of OA q The main groups of B villages in the north, west, southwest, and east of the main island, as well as the B villages of Mu¥arraq all have a voiceless velar k, as in kAl ‘he said’, though categorical use of k at the time of fieldwork was found only among the oldest speakers, especially uneducated women, with g varying with it unpredictably. In a group of village dialects immediately west of the capital Man¸ma—Bil¸d al-Qadºm (m1/6), Zinj (m1/42), Jidd Ýafª (m1/16), San¸bis (m1/ 33), Mani (m1/23), and ad-D¹h (m1/9), some of which are also exceptional in their treatment of OA G—as well as in Man¸ma itself, the usual reflex is g. The same is true of the village of ad-Dir¸z (m1/11). In all these ‘exceptional’ villages, however, occasional instances of k < OA q do occur, which leads one to suspect that g, at least in Man¸ma and the B villages close to it, may be a ‘levelling’ feature acquired via long-term contact with the A dialects. There was no historical dialectal affrication G < g < OA q in the B dialects, but occasional instances in particular lexical items, probably as a result of borrowing, do occur, and routinely so in some common personal names which are not community-specific, e.g. GAsim (< gAsim < OA qAsim), fAGba (ultimately < OA TAqiba). (c) The treatment of OA k In the main group of village dialects, OA k was fronted and affricated to C but, unlike in the A dialects, unconditionally, so it occurs quite commonly in backvowel environments, e.g. dOC ‘shell-fish’ SOC ‘palm-tree thorns’, BuHC ‘laughter’ as well as in many common lexical items in front vowel environments in which it never occurs in the A dialects, e.g. Cil ‘all’, aCbar ‘older’, aCfar ‘more’. In the central villages of {@lº (m1/3) and B¢ri (m1/7), it is for some older uneducated speakers a palatal affricate [tC], the voiceless counterpart of [d∆] < OA G, or a palatalised velar stop. In the capital Man¸ma, and the group of nearby villages which have g < OA q (see above), the conditions on the historical affrication of k seem to have been similar to those which conditioned affrication in the A dia-
language notes
xxxix
lect, or it may be that here again we have a case of the long term accommodation of the B dialects to the A in conditions of contact. Vowels: The B dialects in general do not have the restrictions on the occurrence of a in open syllable that the A dialects have (see above), and nor do the labials have the same backing and raising effects. Final A and AQ are similarly shortened and raised, e.g. aSya ‘things’. In some types of form in which OA final AQ occurred, the glottal has been replaced by y e.g. bannAy ‘builder’. Except in emphatic environments, A in the B dialects is a front vowel; there is none of the general backing and rounding typical of A speakers’ pronunciation, which is particularly extreme in Mu¥arraq. The B village speakers, especially in the east of the main island, preserve the diphthongs ay and aw where B urban speakers, and the A speakers, have E and O. In some B villages in the east (Sitra region) and southwest of Bahrain (Karzakk¸n (m1/20), Shahrakk¸n (m1/37), Õadad (m1/36), there is a noticeable tendency to lower U to O, e.g. S-itkOl? ‘What are you saying?’ There is noticeable imAla in some B village dialects, and also in the R¸s Rumm¸n quarter of Man¸ma, though the degree varies from speaker to speaker, and appears to be commoner in women’s speech, e.g. ktIbi < kitAba ‘writing’ (Sam¸hºj (m1/32), R¸s Rumm¸n (ms2/5)), mi < mAQ ‘water’ (Sitra (m1/41), Abu Õaybi{ (m1/1)): compare A dialects and ‘educated’ B mAy, in the A case with a backed and rounded variety of A that is almost O. Syllable structure and consonant clusters: The B dialects do not have the ghawa-syndrome, and nor are concatenations of short open vowels unstable, i.e. CvCvCv(C) is allowed, e.g. SaGara ‘tree, plant’. However, as in the A dialects, unstressed i in open, non-final syllables is usually elided, e.g. B village smiPuh ‘he heard him’ (< simiP + uh). In ps of hollow verbs, forms of the type inAm ‘he sleeps’ (< ynAm < yinAm), iSidd ‘he pulls’ (< ySidd < yiSidd) are normal in relaxed speech. Final CC clusters: (a) CLA CaCC: (i) If C2 is a guttural, CaCaC is normal, e.g. baHar ‘sea’, Sahar ‘month’. (ii) In all other cases, the B dialects retain CaCC, e.g. kalb/ galb ‘heart’, danb ‘sin’, wark/ warC ‘thigh’, Habl ‘rope’, Vabx ‘cooking’, xamr ‘alcohol’. (b) CLA CiCC and CuCC: (i) If C3 is l, n, or r, CvCvC is normal, usually with vowel harmony, e.g. SuJul (but also SuJil) ‘work’, Buhur ‘noon’, kufur ‘amount’, dihin ‘oil, fat’.
xl
language notes
(ii) In all other cases, CvCC is normal, e.g. PilC ‘chewing gum’, binC ‘essence’, Pirs ‘marriage’, xubz ‘bread’, RubH ‘morning’, rizg/ rizk ‘sustenance’. The initial v of CvCvC forms that result from (b)(i) is deleted by rural B speakers when such forms are preceded by the definite article, and an epenthetic midvowel inserted, e.g. dihin ‘oil’ → l-vdhin ‘the oil’, Buhur ‘noon (-time)’ → l-vBhur ‘the noon (-time)’. CCC clusters are generally stable, though some B village speakers (e.g. {@lº (m1/ 3)) break up clusters that result from suffixation by vowel insertion after the second C, giving forms like SaHmvha ‘its fat’, laHmvha ‘its meat’, while in others the cluster is broken up by vowel insertion after the first C of the cluster, e.g. Pirisha ‘her wedding’ < Pirs + ha (San¸bis (m1/33)), buridha ‘its (a boat’s) side’ < burd + ha (R¸s Rumm¸n (m2/5)). With Pind and kill, unlike in the A dialects, the B dialects reduce the cluster (= Pidkum, kilhum/ B village Cilhum) rather than epenthesise. Where the first two consonants in CCC are the same, the cluster is usually reduced, as in the A dialects, in doubled nominal forms: Hagg + na → Hagna, but usually epenthesised in verbal ones, e.g. Saggvha ‘he tore it’; in certain urban B dialects (al-Mukh¸rga (m2/2), R¸s Rumm¸n (ms2/5), an-Nu{¹m (m2/ 1)) the epenthetic vowel is long and stressed, e.g. SaggÁha ‘he cut it’, HaVVÁha ‘he put it down’, but such forms are now highly stigmatised and typical only of older uneducated speech3. Phonotactics: The b- modal prefix signalling ‘proximate intent’ > m- before 1st pl imperfects, e.g. minrUH ‘we’ll go’. J > b in the imperfect forms of the verb baJa ‘to want, need’ e.g. abba, tubba, etc, which for some speakers then dissimilates, e.g. amba, tumba ‘I, you want’ etc. t in ti- imperfect verbal prefix is assimilated to: V, d, B, C, G, s, R, S as a consequence of the deletion of unstressed i in open syllable, e.g. (i)RRIr ‘she becomes’, (i)GGUn ‘you (pl) come’. Morphology It is in their morphology that the B dialects, in particular the villages, diverge most strikingly as a group from the A dialects.
3 The Man¸ma Ba¥¸rna comedy duo J¸sim Khalaf and Õ¸li¥ al-Madanº made heavy use of such forms for comic effect in their sketches and plays broadcast on Bahrain Radio in the 1970s.
language notes
xli
Pronouns: independent All B dialects ana (f ani in villages) inta intIn/ intIna hu/ huwwa hi/ hiyya iHna intUn/ intUna hum/ humma
suffixed B urban -i (poss), -ni (obj) -k -S -ah/ -vh -ha -na -kum -hum
B villages -i (poss), -ni (obj) -C -S -uh/ -ah/ -vh -ha -na -kim/ -Cim -hum/ -him
The B village masculine sing -C and the common pl -Cim forms are highly marked, being different not only from A, where -iC marks the fem sing form, but B urban speech too. Consequently, they are rapidly receding, being commonly heard at the time of my research only in the speech of elderly speakers from the east (especially Sitra and the nearby villages on the main island), and in the B villages of the extreme southwest. Communal differences in the shape of suffixed pronouns, in combination with differences in preferred syllable structure generate contrasting forms in common types of verb and noun phrase. The B dialects have consonant-initial 2nd sing pronoun suffixes, the A dialects have vowel-initial; the A dialects elide the first vowel in CvCvCv forms, the B dialects maintain it. The following are thus typical contrasting forms: B urban Barabk arayyiHS GaddatS
B villages BarabC arayyiHS GiddatS
A dialects Frubik arayHiC yiddatiC
‘he hit you(m)’ ‘I give you (f) relief’ ‘your (f) grandmother’
Interrogatives: In addition to the stock of common interrogatives already noted, the following are specific to the B dialects: wES (urban), wEShu/wEShi, wESin, wE, ay So (various villages) ‘what?’, (wE)S-rang ‘what sort?’, prep + wES formations, e.g. Pala wES, li wES, Hagg wES ‘why?’, minhi (f) as well as minhu ‘who?’, ayhu/ ayhi ‘which one?’ anu (villages) ‘who, which?’
xlii
language notes
Verbs: (a) Suffix stem: In the B village dialects, the factor determining the theme vowel is best explained historically, corresponding to the CLA split between ‘dynamic’ roots with v2 a, which have a dialectal a-a pattern, and ‘stative’ / ‘medio-passive’ roots with CLA v2 i or u, which have a dialectal i-i or u-u pattern, the latter being normal if C2 or C3 is a labial. The B urban dialects are a compromise: verbs that in CLA have v2 a are a-a, but CLA verbs with v2 i or u which are transitive are reclassified into the a-a group (although ‘mixed’ i-a forms of the Sirab-type are also heard), while intransitives have an i-a or u-a pattern (again, the choice depends on the consonants in C2 and C3 position) rather than i-i or u-u, e.g. B villages Sirib/ Srib ziPil/ zPil Cufur/ Cfur Barab katab dafaP
B urban Sarab ziPal kufar Barab katab dafaP
CLA Sariba (trans) zaPila (intrans) kaTura (intrans) Baraba kataba dafaPa
‘he drank’ ‘he got upset’ ‘it grew more numerous’ ‘he hit’ ‘he wrote’ ‘he pushed’
Suffix stem paradigm: katab ‘he wrote’ 1st 2nd m 2nd f 3rd m 3rd f
sing katabt katabt katabtIn(a) katab katabat
pl katabna katabtUn(a) katabaw
Verbs with an i-i/ u-u (in Man¸ma i-a/ u-a) stem have 3rd person forms of the CvCCvC-type, e.g. simPat, ziPlaw, kufrat/ Cufrat. In final-weak verbs with theme vowel a, the B dialects, unlike the A, preserve the radical y in perfect forms, e.g. nisyat, nisyaw. In the three B Mu¥arraqº villages of D¹r (m1/10), {Ar¸d (m1/2) and Sam¸hºj (m1/32), one encounters ss forms of strong verbs in -Et such as taPallamEt ‘I learnt’, exactly like the forms described earlier for the A dialects, and normally regarded as A-dialect markers. These forms occurred nowhere else in B village communities, and are probably to be explained as the result of dialect contact with the large community of A-dialect speakers in Mu¥arraq. When suffixed, or followed by a prepositional complement that is treated as part of the same phonological word, the 3rd pl -aw ending always becomes O, e.g. katabOha ‘they wrote it’, katabO liha ‘they wrote to her’. It is noticeable that this O is also now heard in non-suffixed forms.
language notes
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(a) Prefix stem: The theme vowel generally mirrors that of historical CLA: a where CLA has a, and a high vowel i or u (depending on consonant environment—labials favour u) where CLA has i or u. The prefix vowel is always i when the theme vowel is a or i, but, for some speakers, the prefix vowel is u if the theme vowel is u. Thus while some speakers have yiPruf ‘he knows’, yiRbur ‘he is patient’, others have yuPruf, yuRbur (compare A dialect yParf, yaRbir). In suffixed forms, the shape of the stem depends on whether the theme-vowel is high or low: -CvCC- if high, -CCvC- if low. Prefix stem paradigms: Theme vowel i or u: yiktib‘he writes’ 1st 2nd m 2nd f 3rd m 3rd f
sing aktib tiktib tikitbIn yiktib tiktib
pl niktib tikitbUn yikitbUn
Theme vowel a: yismaP ‘he hears’ 1st 2nd m 2nd f 3rd m 3rd f
sing asmaP tismaP tismaPIn yismaP tismaP
pl nismaP tismaPUn yismaPUn
In final-weak verbs with theme-vowel a (and for some speakers theme-vowel i also), the prefix stem suffixes are -En and -On rather than -In and -Un, e.g. tinsEn, yirBOn. These -En and -On endings are now also heard in strong verb forms in some speakers’ speech. See above on the spread of -O as an ss pl ending at the expense of -aw. Active participle constructions: In all the B dialects, there is an obligatory -in(n)- infix between the sing ap and a pronoun suffix if the ap has verbal force e.g. for ‘I/you/he/she has/have written it’:
xliv masc fem
language notes kAtbinnah kAtbatinnah
kAtbinha kAtbatinha
The plural forms are as in the A dialect and most other Arabic dialects: pl
kAtbInah
kAtbInha
Weak and hollow roots follow the same pattern, e.g. bAninnah/ bAninha, etc. Where a participle is used as a noun, it lacks the infix, so: huwa mPalliminnah ‘he has taught/ informed him’ but huwa mPallimah ‘he is his teacher’. Clitics: In the B dialects, there is an optional d- verbal prefix used with imperatives as an exhortative, e.g. d-itkallami, gUli Say! ‘Speak, why don’t you? Say something!’ and also to mark continuous or habitual aspect, e.g. kil mA bEn falAfat SuhUr dyiSrabha ‘He would drink it every three months’. Not all B speakers use these prefixes. A question particle v, after vowels hv or yv, may be suffixed to the questioned word or phrase to form a question, e.g. awlAdiS imSattatIn-v? ‘Have your children been split up?’ This is found in all B dialects, but is especially noticeable in speakers from rural areas. Brief notes on individual speakers Speaker 9: male; Mu¥arraq (m1/48): Pearl diving, text 4 Though a Ba¥r¸nº, S9 had lived all his life in Mu¥arraq, and, like all urban Mu¥arraqis, whether of the A or B community, spoke the A dialect. This was true of a whole community of B weavers (HayAyIC, sing HayyAC) who lived in their own quarter in Mu¥arraq. Notes on this speaker’s dialect are included in those covering Speakers 4,5,6,7 above in the {Arab section. Speaker 16: female; al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma (m2/7): Marriage text 2, Childhood text 7, Domestic Life text 3, 4, 7 Speaker 16 had been born in Qatar and moved to Bahrain as a child. She has, essentially, an A dialect—obviously so in verb morphology—but, phonologically, her speech betrays the influence of the B dialects: A in non-emphatic environments had a much more fronted quality than in the A dialects; there are instances of G in common vocabulary items where the A dialect always has y; occasional d and B instead of D and F; but, typical of the A dialects, she often has q (= [F/ G]) for J, and no instance at all of the B shibboleth f < T. There is vacillation
language notes
xlv
between alternatives like B Id ‘hand’ and A yad, but the participial construction involving the insertion of -in(n)-which is typical of all B speech is avoided in favour of the A alternative. There is one example in Childhood text 7 of B -S rather than A -C for the 2nd fem pronoun. Still, when describing her experiences at Koran school, she uses the B term mPallim rather then the A one mVawwaP. As with Speaker 19 (below), this mixing of forms probably has to do with the influence of the A communities among whom it appears this speaker had lived for much of her life. Like Speaker 15, she shows occasional formalising tendencies like q in yiqiblOn as a gloss of the more dialectal yirBOn ‘they accept’. Speakers 18: female; Man¸ma, Guf¢l (m2/9): Marriage texts 1 and 3, Domestic Life text 10; Speaker 19: female; Man¸ma, Salm¸niyya (m2/8): Marriage text 1, Domestic Life text 10. Both these women, who live in recently developed suburbs of Man¸ma, speak a dialect that is basically A in character, although they are from the B community. But there is again some evidence of dialect mixing. Speaker 19 in particular has some tokens which diverge from A norms, e.g. in Marriage text 1, ahli ‘my family’ (S19-7, 18) rather than hali, and axBar ‘green’ (S19-19) rather than xaFar (lack of ghawa-syndrome in both cases); occasional verb forms such as xiVabOni (S19-6) rather than xVibOni (non-A syllable structure rules); and in the lexical domain, the startling use of the modal particle aTarAt ‘perhaps, it would seem that’ (S19-9) which is a stigmatised lexical marker of B rural speech in the form Pafar or PafarAt4. On the other hand, S19 has some distinctly ‘old-fashioned’ A forms, e.g. a-a vowelling of some ps verbs, e.g. nagPad (S19-26, 28) (but also tigPad (S19-32) the normal A Man¸man form), and an ss verb form PirfEt ‘I knew’ (S1912). Speaker 18 also has a dialect which, though clearly A in its general phonological character, e.g. in Domestic Life text 10: y < OA G, D < OA D, affrication of g in words like Gidir ‘cooking pot’, ytiGAbilUn ‘they face each other’ (S18-1, 5), and q < J in qasal IdEh ‘he washed his hands’ (S18-11), nonetheless shows variability in other forms, e.g. alongside the expected hali ‘my family’ (S18-1, 4) and txadim ‘they work’, which show the effect of the ‘ghawa-syndrome’, she also, like S19, has forms which do not show it, e.g. gahwa (S18-11), maHVUVa (S1811), maHlabiyya (S18-7). In morphology, however, her dialect largely conforms to A norms. Both speakers 18 and 19 have a more forward, lip-spread realisation of A, compared with the very backed and rounded realisation typical of Mu¥arraq (and in particular of its women). 4 So much so that the B community is sometimes jokingly referred to by A speakers as awlAd il-Pafar ‘the boys who say Pafar’.
xlvi
language notes
Speakers 34 and 35: both female; R¸s Rumm¸n, Man¸ma (m2/5): Childhood text 11 R¸s Rumm¸n is an entirely B community of former fishermen, stonecutters and seafarers east of the centre of Man¸ma, directly opposite Mu¥arraq at the end of the causeway that first linked the two. As noted above, it is dialectally anomalous, for although in most phonological and morphological respects its dialect is similar to that of other B quarters of the capital, it is one of the few B communities in the country that has y as its normal dialectal reflex of G. It is also unusual in a number of other features, notably in the treatment of ss strong verbs + pronoun suffixes, as in CaffitAh ‘he tied its legs together’, dibHAh ‘he slaughtered it’, SaggAha ‘he cut it open’. Such forms were occasionally heard in other B areas of Man¸ma (al-Nu{¹m (m2/1): RaffAhum ‘he lined them up’), but in R¸s Rumm¸n they are the norm. The two speakers here, illiterate young women in their 30s, are typical R¸s Rumm¸n dialect speakers: f for T (falAf, fAni), y for G (yihAl, yat, but note HGAra ‘stones’), d for D (hAda), and CvCvCvC ss verb forms (xarubat, in which a → u because of the labial). Speaker 36: female; ad-Dir¸z (m1/11): Childhood text 6 This speaker was born in ad-D¹h (m1/9), which, as already noted, is exceptional among the B villages in the same way as ad-Dir¸z in its treatment of OA G and q (reflexes = y and g respectively). The phonology of S36’s dialect is as expected: f < T (yinafrUn), d < D (niCdib), y < G (misyid, yabbab, rayAyilna), g < q. There are a couple of noteworthy points: rayAyil ‘feet, legs’ is the pl of ryUla; in B villages which have G, the forms are rGUl or rGUla (sing) raGAyil (pl), forms which are also heard in the B quarters of the capital. (In the A dialects the forms are rIl pl ryUl, with an alternative pl arAyil). The phrase da l-Hin ‘now’ was not noted for any other speaker, the normal phrases being al-HIn/ il-HIn. Speaker 38: female; San¸bis (m1/33): Domestic Life text 2, 9, Childhood text 12, SawAlif text 1 Speaker 38 is a woman in her 40s with little education. She is from that group of B villages west of the capital (Zinj, Bil¸d al-Qadºm, and San¸bis) that have g, not k, as their normal reflex of OA q. Older speakers from San¸bis like S38 also tend to have D, not d as their reflex of OA D, which possibly reflects another original local feature which deviates from the main body of B village dialects. San¸bis is further exceptional in having y < OA G as its normal reflex in common words like yAhil, ya, yAb, although there are items, not always neologisms, in which this speaker has G (niGAra ‘carpentry’, PilAG ‘treatment, HAGa ‘need’, HawAyiG ‘household goods’). A few other oddities that need explaining are the G in iGAbilha (maHHad yigdar iGAbilha ‘no one could confront it’) in SawAlif text 1, and GudUP ‘snack’ in Domestic Life text 9 S38-1, where in both cases G < g. And tanyIl ‘carrying (of water)’ in Domestic Life text 2, S38-1 from the historical root n-q-l, has the y as the end result of a historical chain of a change q→ g
language notes
xlvii
→ G → y. This chain of change did not go this far even in the A dialects, where, although OA G → y was virtually categorical, it did not occur where G was the result of dialectal affrication of g, rather than an etymological G. Thus A speakers have tanGIl, not tanyIl, for this word. Furthermore, g → G, the second stage of this chain, did not occur in any Bahraini B dialect. In explanation, one can only surmise that y and G in the San¸bis dialect in cases like tanyIl, iGAbilha and GudUP are the result of isolated lexical borrowings from the A dialects, and that, in the first case, tanGIl was borrowed, and then underwent the normal (for San¸bis) G → y change which was, unlike the similar change in the A dialects, not sensitive to the origin of the input G. Also, it is worth noting that in a text from the neighbouring village of Jidd Ýafª (Speaker 41 below, Domestic Life text 1, S4115) where neither the g → G nor the G → y stages in the process occurred systemically, G turns up in the same verb as y < G < g occurs in San¸bis: nnaGGil ‘we used to carry (water)’, but in no other lexical item, as far as could be ascertained. This would tend to support the hypothesis of borrowing. Speaker 41: female; Jidd Ýafª (m1/16): Marriage text 4, Domestic Life text 1, 8 The speaker’s dialect here is that which is typical of the ring of B villages to the immediate west and south of Man¸ma—Zinj, Bil¸d al-Qadºm, and San¸bis (though the last named is exceptional even within this group, having y < OA G). See the notes on Speaker 38 immediately above. The verb naVa instead of PaVa was recorded only in Jidd Ýafª and in the neighbouring western B suburb of Man¸ma, al-Nu{¹m, and echoes the Muslim dialect of Baghdad and the dialects of southern Iraq, which also have this verb as their normal form for ‘to give’. Speaker 44: female; Nuw¹dr¸t (m1/44): Marriage text 5, Domestic Life text 6 The speaker speaks an eastern B village dialect that shows no external influences. She has 100% k < q, and C < k in a number of words where A speakers and urban B speakers do not, e.g. ACil ‘I eat’, b-atCAllam ‘I was about to speak’, diCCAn ‘shop’. The k in vb kayfvh ‘as he wishes’ (Marriage text 5, S44-18) is normal for all speakers when this word is used as a noun, as here, but CEf ‘how’ when used as an interrogative. Generally speaking, the speaker retains the aw and ay diphthongs in words like zawG ‘husband’, darayt ‘I knew’ where A and urban B speakers have the pure vowels O and E. Like many uneducated village B speakers, particularly of the eastern region, her 2nd person pronoun suffix system is C (masc), -S (fem), -Cim (pl), compared with the urban B -k/ -S/ -kum and A -ik/ -iC/ -kum. A morphological peculiarity of this eastern area is -u in the verb ‘to mean’, viz yaPnu, aPnu which this speaker, and Speaker 49 from nearby Sanad both have.
xlviii
language notes
Speaker 46: male; Barbar (m1/4): Work text 5 From the same B village as S156, S46’s dialect is in most major respects similar, with the expected categorical f < T, d < D, B < F, G < G. He also has C in miCAnAt ‘places’, typical of the B village dialects untouched by outside influences but not of the Man¸ma B, or the A dialects. There is also an instance of C in dAC ‘that’ (S46-4), the only instance recorded in this common lexical items for any Bahraini dialect. Unusually, ‘urban’ g < q predominates over ‘rural’ k, except in a few cases (e.g. akdar (S46-1)). This may have been a consequence of the fact that, unusually, I was the interlocutor on this occasion. Speaker 49: male; Sanad (m1/34): Agriculture text 2 Like Speaker 44, Speaker 49 from a few miles north of her, speaks an eastern B dialect little affected by outside influences. In general S49 has k < q and C < OA k in several items which mark his speech as village B e.g. mvCAn, Cidda, and most significantly, when talking to his relative S2, -Cim for the 2nd person pl suffix (S49-7, 19, 20, 22). Morphologically, Speaker 49 has several local eastern features, e.g. ay So ‘what?’ (S49-24, S49-13), aPnu ‘I mean’ (S49-32) typical only of Sanad, nearby Nuw¹dr¸t (m1/28) and Sitra (m1/41). His vocabulary includes many stereotypically B items, e.g. Jada ‘to go’ (S49-89), and also contains many local terms and expressions, e.g. dAhaS (S49-5), taPabbaf (S49-52) Pabaf (S4986), buVa (S49-70). He occasionally seems unfamiliar with some terminology in use in the rural B community at large, e.g. fRal ‘growing trench for seedlings’ knowing only the local eastern equivalent term kRaf (S49-46). So locally specific were some such terms that AIH, a village Ba¥r¸ni himself, was sometimes at a loss to understand what was meant. Speaker 52: male; ad-Dir¸z (m1/11): Agriculture text 4 Speaker 52 has the typically Dir¸zi y < G , but there is one word he frequently uses, SaGar(a) ‘plant, tree’ in which he always has G. He also has a couple of instances of k < q (e.g. yOkuf ‘it stops’, kablvk ‘before you’), rather than the expected g, and a few of q, explained by AIH as attempts to ‘sound educated’ in my presence. C < OA k generally occurs only in that ‘core’ set of items in which all Bahrainis share it, e.g. Cam ‘how much; a few’, Cidi ‘like this’, CEf ‘how?’ and CAn ‘would, should, it may be that…’, but there is one instance of Cillvh ‘all of it’, a form normally only heard in those B village dialects (not ad-Dir¸z) that have virtually categorical C < k and concomitant k < q. S52’s vocabulary shows a number of items not recorded elsewhere in Bahrain, mostly to do with agriculture, e.g. Haff (S52-10), GAmad (S52-14), baggaS (S52-16), gaSaP (S52-25), qabVan (S52-23), slUl, Paggab (S52-27), CIko (S52-50).
language notes
xlix
Speakers 55: male; Bil¸d al-Qadºm (m1/6): Work text 6; Speaker 56: male; Bil¸d al-Qadºm (m1/6): Agriculture text 3, Communal Relations text 3 As already noted for the B villages immediately to the west of Man¸ma, Speakers 55 and 56 have g < q virtually categorically, with only two instances of ‘village’ k: nikdar ‘we can’ (Work, text 6, S55-3) and akall ‘less’ (end of Agriculture text 3, S56-10). Similarly, their use of C < k is like that found in the B city dialects, rather than that of the B villages more remote from the capital, e.g. they do not have C in words like kill ‘all’, iklu! ‘eat!’ and kbur ‘size, extent’. S56’s variable use of the affricate G < q in the word Gatt/ gatt/ katt ‘lucerne grass’ is not phonological, but lexical; this is one of a small number of words in which the affricate G is regularly used by all Bahrainis, not just the A speakers, whose dialect underwent the affrication of g to G in front-vowel environments. S55 also has one instance of y < G, in yAbOni ‘they brought me back’ (Work, text 6, S55-3). Perhaps one of the most interesting features of S56’s speech is his use of the relative pronoun forms illi di and illadi (Agriculture text 3, S56-4/5). Forms of this type, reminiscent of CLA allaDi, were recorded for B speakers from all over Bahrain—Qurayya (m1/30) in the west, Sitra (m1/41) and Nuw¹dr¸t (m1/28) in the east, B¢ri (m1/7) in the centre, and in the Mukh¸rga quarter (m2/2) of Man¸ma)—but never for A dialect speakers, who always had illi. Landberg notes variants identical to these for Southern Arabia5, one of the many points of morphology and lexicon in which there is a similarity between the B dialects of Bahrain and those of the sedentary populations of southern and south-eastern Arabia. Speaker 60: male; al-Kawara, near Jird¸b (m1/17): Agriculture text 1 Phonologically, Speaker 60 speaks an eastern B dialect, though one showing some outside dialectal influences: k < OA q occurs in some words, though not all, and is otherwise replaced by ‘common Bahraini’ g, though q occurs in a few MSA borrowings, often apparently in imitation of AIH. In some eastern B villages, C < k is virtually categorical; but this speaker has C only in words that have C in all Bahraini dialects, A or B, e.g. Cam, HaCi, CIs, Cidi. Morphologically, however, his dialect has all the hallmarks of B rural speech noted in the sketch above. Speaker 62: male; Karr¸na (m1/19): Childhood text 9 Speaker 62 shows a preponderance of B village forms phonologically: k < q occurs roughly twice as often as g, and f < T, d < D and B < F are categorical. There are some unexpected forms: kidi (S62-6) and igi (S62-25) have palatalised stops that are typical of the central villages of {@lº and B¢ri, rather than the affricates C and G normal in these words in Karr¸na and the chain of B villages which line the
5
DATH 407-8.
l
language notes
main east-west road running from Budayya{ to Man¸ma. Morphologically and lexically there are also several oddities: kaytab as a verbal noun of katab and PuwEgil ‘polio’ were not initially understood by AIH, himself a B villager, and terms like Giffa (< GiTTa) ‘(living) body’, rIH ‘pain’ were distinctly ‘old-fashioned’ usage. Speaker 71:male; Sitra (m1/41): SawAlif text 3 Phonologically, S71 has all the hallmarks of village B speech: his use of f < T is categorical, as is k < OA q and d < D. The affrication of OA k shows the pattern typical of eastern B dialects, in particular the use of -C for the 2nd person masc enc pron, which occurs no less than ten times in the extract provided, mainly in his telling of punning stories; but he uses -k in the question-and-answer session with AIH when trying to prove he is more learned!6 Instead of the diphthong O he often has aw, as in fawk ‘above’, again typical of the eastern dialects. On the morphological side, his pronominal forms are typical of the B dialects (e.g. intIn, intUn), though the use of -him rather than -hum is again more common in the east than elsewhere. baJdi for ‘I’ll go’ is typical of B village speech, though again, was heard more commonly in eastern dialects than in others. Speaker 72: male; B¢ri (m1/7): Marriage text 6 Speaker 72 has a typical B village dialect in all respects. His use of k < q is almost total with only a couple of examples of g. The distribution of C < k is that normally found in B villages remote from the capital, and it occurs occasionally in back vowel environments (PilUC S72-29). Like Speaker 44, he has CEf ‘how’ but kEf when this word is a noun. There are several examples of -C as the masc object pronoun (S72-7, 21, 22), another B village dialect marker. There are two examples of a (palatalised) velar stop reflex of OA G (PagIb S72-7, gat S72-22), which is found only in central Bahrain and is now being rapidly replaced by G. The speaker’s treatment of the OA D and F is mixed: he has mainly the stop reflexes, but, not infrequently, fricatives in certain very commonly occurring words like hADa/ hADAk. There are a number of stereotypically B village lexical items, including Jada ‘to go’ and the modal particle Pafar ‘perhaps, it seems that’, and the speaker makes frequent use, both in addressing AIH, and in recounting conversations with others, of the so-called bi-polar address system, e.g. yAxUk, yA nasIbvk, a feature now associated only with the old and uneducated of both the A and B communities. Speaker 74: male; {@lº (m1/3): Communal Relations text 1 The main phonological feature distinguishing this south-central village and its neighbour B¢ri (see Speaker 72 above) from the other B village dialects is the
6
Variation in the form of pronouns that is linked to pragmatic factors is examined in CF.
language notes
li
way the reflexes of OA G, k, and q are configured. As far as one can see through the confusing fog of contact-induced variant forms, and if one can trust oneself to transcribe accurately the speech of old men with no teeth, in {@lº, OA G seems originally to have become sometimes a voiced palatal affricate [d∆], and sometimes a palatalised velar stop [g∆]; correspondingly, OA k became sometimes a palatal affricate [tC], sometimes a very fronted variety of k. OA q was fronted to k, as elsewhere in the B villages, but not as far to the front as k < OA k7. At the time of field-work, the palatal and velar reflexes of OA G were receding before the alveolar reflex, the commonest one for the B community as a whole, but Speaker 74 still produced a number of examples: PaGam and GazzArIn (both S74-6) with palatal affricate realisations (not marked in the transcription), and furUg, surUg, gisir (several examples), gAk, and gES (S74-7, 8, 9) all clearly pronounced as palatalised velar stops. Otherwise, this speaker used alveolar G like other B speakers. Morphologically, the use of -him for ‘they, them’ is an oddity of this area also. Speaker 76: male; {@lº (m1/3): SawAlif text 4 Phonologically, Speaker 76 speaks a typical B village dialect (k < OA q, f < OA T, d < OA D), but with the special features typical only of the central villages of {@lº and B¢ri (see the notes for Speakers 72 and 74 above). With S76 the reflex of OA G is usually a palatal affricate, and occasionally a palatalised velar stop, transcribed here as g (e.g. gAyib (S76-8), gAy (S76-10), sigiyya, sagAya (S7626)); its voiceless correlate, transcribed as C, is also usually a palatal rather than an alveolar affricate. The incidence of C rather than k follows the B village pattern, with Cil ‘all’ and CIllvh ‘always’ having the affricate in contrast to urban B and all A dialects which have k in these words. -Cim for the 2nd person pl pronoun enclitic, occurs in three out of three occurrences (S76-1, 3, 24), with occasional instances of -C for the masc sing form (S76-18). -him for the 3rd person pl forms, another idiosyncrasy of the central and eastern B dialects, is used throughout. However, in the final part of the excerpt where the talk turns to religious matters, and there are Classical phrases such as QUlU l-Pazm, g < OA q, the ‘areal standard’, occurs variably with ‘local’ k. Speaker 78: male; Abu Õaybi{ (m1/1): Agriculture text 6 In all respects, S78 speaks a typical B village dialect, but with some variation. f < T, d < D and B < F are all categorical, and G < G almost so, with just a single example of y (yild in S78-3). However, there is considerable fluctuation between k and g as reflexes of OA q, particularly in the most commonly occurring site for this variation, the verb gAl/ kAl ‘to say’. Here, S78’s performance varies seemingly randomly between g and k. Less common vocabulary items, agricultural
7
Certain Omani mountain villages have a structurally similar set-up: see HOL 451-2.
lii
language notes
terminology, and idioms specific to the B village communities are more likely to have k, e.g. sawAki, bAkawwim, yikhurni, yidbaHni min il-kahar, akUm bi PEla, taHkil. Variability may be related both to the relative saliency of an item, and to its idiomaticity. This seems to be borne out by the verb yiski/yisgi: where the word has the literal, everyday meaning of ‘water, irrigate’, it occurs unpredictably with k and g; where it is used idiomatically, k is used, e.g. yiskIni l-JaRAyiR (S78-11), sAkyitinni l-JaRR (S78-18), as it is in other idioms with a similar meaning, yidbaHni min il-kahar, ana mkAsi l-ahwAl). Other points of variation are between -uh, the B village 3rd m sing pron ending and -ah, typical of B urban and A dialects. A few examples occur of the B village 2nd m sing pron ending -C: HAliC and liC (both S78-33), and naPVIC (S78-40), but in all other cases S78 has the more dialectally neutral variant -k, though he consistently follows B morphophonological rules in using it, e.g. tsAPidk (S78-33, 34). At the time of my research, this masculine -C, possibly the original form in most of the B villages, was still relatively common in the eastern and southwestern communities, but receding rapidly in those of the northern coastal strip and the immediate vicinity of Man¸ma. S78 also has the typically B village form aba- (variant abba-) of the particle signifying proximate intent (S78-8: ab-Akil SabPati ‘I’ll eat my fill’). This form of the particle is restricted to the 1st person, and seems to be a reduced form of abba < abJa ‘I want’. Speaker 128:male; R¸s Rumm¸n, Man¸ma (m2/5); Work text 4 Speaker 128 speaks the B urban dialect of R¸s Rumm¸n, the northeastern quarter of Man¸ma, once famous for its pearl divers and seafarers. Like the two females from the same neighbourhood, S34 and 35 (see above), S128 has y not the usual urban B G in ‘core’ vocabulary items such as ya/ iyi ‘to come’, wAyid ‘much, many’, yawwad ‘to hold, grab’, ryUl ‘foot, leg’. But there is evidence of outside influence on the phonology of his dialect which is hardly noticeable at all in the case of the women: variation between d and D rather than categorical d < D, an instance of T instead of f < T in TalATa ‘three’ instead of categorical f. In geminate verbs, S128 has communally neutral forms of the type HaVVvh ‘he put it’ with the short pronominal suffix -vh, rather than the form with lengthened and stressed A vowel (HaVVAh), a marker of the B speech of R¸s Rumm¸n and other ‘traditional’ B neighbourhoods of the capital. It is possible that his occasional use of these less saliently local forms was a consequence of the fact that I was interviewing him rather than another Bahraini. In other respects, e.g. the morphophonology of forms such as yAkilk ‘it’ll eat you’ and yiBrubk ‘it’ll attack you’, his speech conforms to general B norms. Speaker 156: male; Barbar (m1/4): Agriculture text 5 This speaker speaks a B village dialect with little or no evidence of outside influence: he has k < q, d y in this item when it has this meaning, e.g. tanyIl il-ma Pala rAsna ‘carrying water on our heads’ (text 2 below) but normally tangIl in the sense of ‘transplanting seedlings’. 11 In the A communities, this kind of flat sweetened bread is known as xubz iRfAH 12 Done with a muHwAr ‘rolling pin’. 13 baxa or baxxa ‘to quilt’ < Pers baxya. The head covering of the daffa was quilted using red and green silk thread. 14 SaGGar ‘to decorate a garment by sewing patterns (SaGarAt) onto it’. 15 saff and its derivates ‘to weave palm fronds together’, as in CLA. 16 bi l-karwa means any service for which one gets paid, cf CLA kirwa ‘hire’. 17 Pl of simma ‘palm-leaf matting’ (CLA summa with the same meaning). This was a standard building material, especially used for the roofs of barastaGAt and kbAra. 18 nafAB is the shaking of the palm-tree to dislodge the fully ripe tamr en masse, which were caught in large baskets known as musgaV; xarAf is the picking of individual rVab at the stage before they become tamr. It is unclear whether the samIm referred to was to make baskets for the nafAB, or was in the form of sheets on which the tamr might be left to further dry out. 10
domestic life
S41-21
S-20 S41-22
207
n-naxIl nrUH ninfaB... inGIb irVab nGIb it-tamr...E, mA gaRRarna (***********************************************) Pidna bagar, niHlibhum bi l-bagaratEn, niHlibhum, innaffiPhum 19, nisgIhum mA... inxuBB il-laban, E... wES baPad? inxumm, inrUH l-inxIl inGIb l-irVab, nixruf irVab trUHIn b rUHiS lO wiyya GamAPa? nrUH fintEn, inrUH... yOm ani u PallAm, u yOm sayyid GawAd il-vHsEniyya20 yirUHUn... hAdi fi l-biCra21… naxIl isammUnha l-vmbaSrAt, yiraVVib gabil JErha... lEn RAraw tammarat in-naxla, yaPni nuBiGat u tammarat, yirUH lEha riGAl yinfaBha u yigiRR vPDUgha, E... yinfaB it-tamr, u yixruf l-irVab
Text 1: translation S41-1 S-1 S41-2 S-2 S41-3 S-3 S41-4 S-4 S41-5 S-5 S41-6 S-6 S41-7
S-7
19
When our children were ill, we took them to the doctor’s. Right. Where was the doctor’s? There was only the American (Mission Hospital). You went there, to Man¸ma? Yes, Man¸ma, there was only the American. In the old days were there taxis to take you, or not? There were, but they were few. Not everyone could get a taxi. So how did you go? Some people walked, some on donkeys. Right, and you, when your children were ill, how did you take them? In a taxi, me and their father. (***********************************************) Was there (running) water in the houses in the old days? No! Just springs, we went to the springs, to the irrigation channels. We went to wash, to wash our rice and our clothes, all in the irrigation channels… and we’d go, and play tricks on each other… This girl would steal that one’s food, and another one would hide someone else’s. Ýaªª¢m, the daughter of Sayyid N¸ªir, never let us down on that score…One time, she took—at that time we had the builders in—she took half, half the prawns she took… yes, it was during the building of {Alawº’s room… she came, and the prawns had been peeled, and {All¸m had gone to wash them. So she went and crept up on her… and took half of them and hid them! Goodness!
This verb was only recorded as being used with animals. vHsEniyya is a synonym for mAtam, the Shº{º funeral house. 21 Alternative pronunciation of biSra, the phase when early-fruiting trees (mbaSSirAt) give their first dates. 20
208 S41-8
S-8 S41-9 S-9 S41-10 S-10 S41-11 S-11 S41-12 S-12 S41-13 S-13 S41-14
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S-17
chapter five When we came home and {All¸m brought back (the prawns), lo and behold, there were none left of those two rubPas of prawns! So her aunt—from Sayyid Jaw¸d’s family—says to her, “Goodness! Is that all the prawns there are?” She replies, “I’ve just peeled them, washed them, and brought them back.” She was the eldest of us, and her father was Sayyid Jaw¸d. We’d only been sitting there a moment, when she (=Ýaªª¢m) comes with the basket, the other basket, which she’d taken. She was going to hide it and then bring it back to the village… yes! … just as a joke, you see? She’s still alive, that old trickster… she never let us down! She’d pinch fish, rice… she just had to pinch something from every basket— Didn’t she have any of her own? —in the old days, we used to wash (food) in baskets. Didn’t you have large pots? No, they always washed things in baskets, in the old days, everything in baskets. Did you eat rice in the old days, or grain? Yes! Just rice … and then milled wheat. Tell me about this milled wheat. Milled wheat came in one year, and people ate it for ten years, ten years. Why? There was no rice… only a little. There wasn’t any. Yes, there was no rice... you were lucky if you could get hold of a rubPa … a rubPa cost—I don’t known, they say fourteen rupees, fifteen rupees, a rubPa of rice, during the time of milled wheat… we used to grind the wheat, grind it first, then wash it, and winnow it, and wash it again and cook it… we’d cook it like rice. What did you do in your family? Everybody had a day that was ‘her day’… we’d cook and sweep… we’d carry water… we had a baker’s shop…the head of the house, the father of my children, was a baker. His job was just baking? Yes, he was a baker… and we’d look for eggs for him, for the bread, for that yellow kind of bread that we made differently, with an egg. The one they call ‘sweetened bread’? Yes, they call it ‘sweetened’, the one with the yellow, with eggs. They roll it out with a pin and put egg on it and smear it on, and stick it to that… stick it onto (the wall) of the clay oven, what they call the baker’s clay oven … yes… we did everything… we made clothes— In the old days what clothes did you make?
domestic life S41-18 S-18 S41-19 S-19 S41-20
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We made trousers, dresses… we would quilt, sew patterns on them. Eating mats too? Some people sewed them; they’d weave mats and sew them as well. And when you sewed, did you sell, or—? No, we didn’t do it to order, we just did it for home… we made straw mats, eating mats, palm-leaf matting… when we had dates to get off the trees, we made matting… when we had the palms (to tend) we went and shook the trees… we’d bring back the fresh moist dates and the fully ripe ones… yes, we did everything. (***********************************************) We had cows, we’d milk them two at a time, we milked them, fed them, watered them… we would churn the milk, yes… what else? We swept, went to the palms to get fresh dates, we’d pick fresh dates. Did you go by yourself or in a group? Two of us went… sometimes me and {All¸m, and sometimes the people from the Sayyid Jaw¸d funeral house would go… That was in the early season… there are palm-trees they call ‘early-fruiting’, which give ripe dates before others… when they get to the point when the dates are fully mature, that is, they’ve ripened and become fully mature, men go and shake them off and cut off the racemes… yes, they shake off the fully ripe dates and pick the fresh ones individually.
Text 2: Speaker 38: San¸bis (m1/33): village reminiscences (II) The speaker is a B village woman in her 40s. She gives an account of life as a young female member of the household going to the well to fetch water, doing household chores, and collecting windfalls, observing in passing how much more ‘fun’ life was then compared to now. She describes the types of rudimentary housing which were the norm for many Bahrainis in the 1930s, the jobs the men did, and rationing during the Second World War, finishing with a description of transport before the advent of the car. Her interlocutor (S) is her daughter. S-1 S38-1
il-awwal mA miS hADa fi l-vbyUt, mA miS mAy... ambAS22 itgUlIn lI wEn vtrUHUn u mata tiVlaPUn? nrUH awwal PEn Jarbiyya, u PEn mani, u PEn il-fasla, u PEn atwakkal, wi l-mAlHa, w il-gaRR, wi l-HOVa ..baPad immA nrUH l-vPyUn, nvJsil, nsawwi HawAyiGna ...tanyIl il-mA Pala rAsna ...bIb, willa zIla, willa siVil, willa
22 bb < bJ further dissimilates →mb in certain B village dialects (San¸bis, D¹h, {@li, Barbar, al-{Ikur, Karzakk¸n) in the singular ps of baJa: timba ‘you want’, yimba ‘he wants’ (Karzakk¸n yambi).
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chapter five drAm u nAxiD xammatna min il-bEt sIda, min madda, ila HaRIr, ila bsAV, ila xalaga23 ...u nvJsil u nyI zEn, trUHUn mata u iGGUn mata? nrUH iR-RubH u nvJsil u nvJsil ..ndiSS l-vnxIl ..nlAyim24 min lOza, ila rummAna25, ila hADa wES ismvh irVaba, ayyAm l-vgrUf26 ..hAdAkhu killvh nlAyim... Silna nAklvh, nAklvh hnAk, willa nlAymvh nyIb il-bEt zEn ay aHsan, l-awwal lO al-HIn? illa l-awwal nafAhatha27 aHsan min al-HIn ... al-HIn kil wAHid minxaSS fi bEtvh, mA yadri bi l-fAni... lAkin il-awwal, kil waHda itsOlaf wiyya l-fAnya, tiBHak wiyya l-fAnya, tistAnis wiyya l-fAnya ..u yiVlaPUn min il-PEn GamaPhum ...tAli, kil min yirUH bEtvh, ha-n-namUna... PAd wE ? il-awwal yibnUn byUthum min HaSIS ... fi l-iSta fi wES yigaPdUn? hAkhu ummahAt il-barastaGAt, zafAn ....ummahAt l-vkbAra, hAkhu kabar28 ... u abu d-dAr, hAkhu fi dAr ...mifl iHna gaPadna fi dAr, allah yidfaP il-bala, dAr mVayyaHa min naRIfatha, nuRR u nuRR, u iltammEna fIha u PiSna ... u hAdaHna Rirna niswAn... u min il-faqr allah yidfaP il-bala, kil wAHid yixAf min il-fAni... awwal mA fattaHna fi d-dinya faqr ... u tAli, al-Hamdu lillAh, allah VarraS Pala PibAdvh bi l-xEr ... wAHid min29 tamm, allah yidfaP il-bala fi bEtvh, halAC lEn mAt, u wAHid min allah xallA lih vwlEdAtvh, kubraw, u irtafaP HaFFhum, barakAt allah vwlEdAthum ... min abUyi u bAgi l-GamAPa... ha-n-namUna. wES yiStvJil abUS? abUyi baHHar. il-awwal? il-awwal, E, binCvh... ayyAm JOR JOR, ayyAm bHAra bHAra30... ilEn addat31
23 The ‘listing’ of alternative, near-synonymous lexemes at a particular point of structure within the same syntactic frame is a very pronounced feature of S38’s speech style. 24 lAyam ‘collect’ is used in both the A and B dialects, and seems to be a development of lAQam (see GLOS 2646 sub lamm, to which it is related). 25 Cash crops like pomegranate, mango and papaya were normally grown in the shade beneath mature palm-groves. 26 girf pl grUf refers to the outer skin or rind of any fruit, but especially the pomegranate, and was used to make a dish called mgarrafa, a curry flavoured with its pulverised skin. 27 Cf southern Iraqi tnaffah ‘to take things easy, relax’ (NAQ 49). 28 barastaG/ barasti (also know as PiSSa) is a hut built out of palm-fronds; zafAn is a high-quality type of palm-leaf matting used in such buildings, especially roofs. Unlike the barastaG, the kabar had walls and eaves built of sea-stone (frUS) and mud faced with gypsum (GaRR), but with a palmleaf roof. The word dAr refers here to a house built entirely of stone and solid materials. 29 This speaker makes heavy use of min after pronominals of vague reference: wAHid min... wAHid min... ‘one … another …’ hADa min ...hADa min... ‘this one… another one…’ kil min ‘everyone’. 30 Before the advent of BAPCO in the 1930s, many divers supplemented their meagre income in the off-season (giffAl) by fishing. 31 adda ‘to come’, but only used in this sense in the 3 rd person with subjects denoting periods of the day or seasons, and often in the B village dialects, as here, with a feminine ending even if
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l-vBhvr, yiSwUn lEna simiCatEn min il-baHar ... yilaymUnna Pala nitfat gurR u nitfat tamr u nAklvh u nistaHmad rabbna ... u bEza mA nSUf, VUl in-nahAr ...u yOm baJEna l-bEza nrUH il-baHar nlayyim dOC32 Hagg il-baHAHIr ... hADa min yaPVIna AntEn, hADa min yaPVIna arbaP AnAt, hADa min mA yaPVIna Say ... ha-n-namUna, baPad wE? (***********************************************) zEn wi l-mihin illi Pidkum il-awwal, bass ibHAra? baHAra, falAHa, w illi fi l-kubbani, w illi fi Sarikat il-mA, w illi yilaymUn VaPAm, w illi yibIPUn faHam min Pala s-sIf ...kil Say yilaymUn yibIPUn min Pala s-sIf. kubbani yaPni wE? mAl hADa, Sarikat bAbko. bass hADelEn? u nAs baPad fi l-maVAr ..nAs fi l-inGAra fi s-sUg ... kil makAn yiStvJilUn il-PAlam... lAkin yOmiyyathum mu mifil al-HIn... yOmiyyathum PaSar AnAt, yOmiyyathum sitt AnAt, yOmiyyathum nuRR rubbiya, yOmiyyathum arbaP AnAt ...DAk min DAk illi Pindvh adnAt iS-Say ... mifil hADi—ayyAm il-baVAyig33... yiwaddUnna min sanAbis li l-xamIs, yirUHUn iyyAna min l-vBhvr, xalf il-Jada, w ila CAn iyIbUnna fi xalf il-PaSyAt, ha-n-namUna ...ummna HAmlatinna, u HAmla zabIl it-tamr fOg rAsha ha-n-namUna ... is-saPId illi yinAl DIk it-tamra u yiVlaP vbha, wi s-saPId illi yAxiD Habbat Sakar, Habbat PES, willa Habbat Habb ... willa mA miS baPad yiriddUn bi Safyathum34... lAkin maPISathum ahna min al-HIn baPad .... im35 baJEtIn il-PAfya hum bi PAfya... im baJEtIn il-xEr hum vb xEr... im baJEtIn il-Hamdu lillAh rabb il-PAlamIn... kil Say xEr vb tayyAr36, aHsan min al-HIn baPad. zEn il-awwal mA miS sayyArAt ..lEn tabbUn trUHUn min makAn li makAn...
the subject is masculine (perhaps there is an understood Hazza ‘time, period’ = ilEn addat Hazzat lvBhvr). Strangely, the most commonly encountered form of the phrase encountered in the A dialects is lE adda, which, in a reverse of the situation in the B village dialects, often occurs when the subject is feminine gender. A speakers sometimes collapse this phrase into ladda, when it functions as a conjunction, e.g. ladda riHt... ‘when I left…’. OP 439 records a similar usage for Oman. See Pearldiving, n. 95. 32 It is unclear what kind of shellfish is meant, but DON (I) gives the word as meaning ‘cockle’. These creatures were used as bait in beehive fish-traps (gargUr pl garAgIr)—see Work, text 5. 33 In the description that follows, the speaker is referring to the rationing of food during the Second World War. Rationing of rice, flour, sugar and tea was introduced in 1940. 34 The sense is that they return from the markets where the rations were distributed with no food but with their desire (Safya) for it still intact. Cf KURP (III) SifA ‘desire, longing’. 35 im < in because of the following b. 36 vb tayyAr was explained as ‘a lot’. It is possibly a variant of VayyAr ‘complete, ready, finished’ (lit. ‘flying’) which occurs in Oman and south Yemen (GLOS 2240) or ViyAr ‘ready, finished’ (REIN 49).
212 S38-10
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chapter five kil makAn nrUH namSi... sitra, fi GawAlbIt ...wi l-vmHarrag yirUHUn fi GawAlbIt, yigVaPUn ...u minni l-manAma yirUHUn maSi... is-sihla maSi, karrAna maSi, karbAbAd maSi, id-dEh maSi, al-HaGar maSi, abu bhAm maSi... hADi wES isimha ...kil makAn illi tubbEn, killvh maSi... yiVlaPUn min gahwat iR-RubH, yiwaRlUn yumkin nAs mitJaddIn, gAymIn min il-Jada ha-n-namUna ...Hatta SEx vHsEn lEn baJa yizUrUnvh37 maSi ...SEx Pali bin HamAd maSi, SEx mIfam 38 maSi, killvh maSi... lAkin PAfyat il-insAn aRaHH min al-HIn, wEn u wEn... al-HIn maHHad yigdar yamSi Hatta min ihni li hni baPad zEn... fi ayyAmkum hast mustaSfayAt? E, hast mustaSfayAt ... hast yOm il-xamIs, fi l-xamIs ...u yOm l-ifnEn fi daxtar in-nvPEm mAl il-HukUma... killvh Pala HsAb il-HukUma... il-miHtAG yiwaddUnvh, willi mA lih HAGa, hAkhu mA lih HAGa fIh nAs yaPni yiPAlGUn fi l-bEt? fIh... PilAG mAl bEt mAl daxAtir, il-bEzAt v? lA, yaPni mAl il-awwal yaPni fi l-bEt ihni fi sanAbis willa JErha? E lA, mA miS.
Text 2: translation S-1
S38-1
S-2 S38-2
In the old days, there wasn’t any—in the houses there wasn’t any water…I want you to tell me where you used to go (to get it), and when you’d go out. In the old days we’d go to the western well, and Mani well, and Fasla well, and Atwakkal well, and M¸lha, and Gaªª and al-Ý¡«a wells…when we went to the well, we’d wash (clothes) and do our chores…carrying water back on our heads… in a 5-gallon drum, or a jerry-can, or a bucket, or an oil-drum… and we’d take our stuff straight from the house— runners, and mats, and rugs, and cloths—we’d wash them and come back. Right. When did you go, and when did you come back? We’d go in the morning and wash and wash… we’d go into the palm-groves, and collect almonds, and pomegranates, and what-d’youcall-it, ripe dates… days (when we wanted) pomegranate rind… we’d collect all of that… we’d pick it up and eat it, eat it on the spot, or we’d collect it and bring it home.
37 In verb strings of this kind, it is not uncommon in the eastern Arabian dialects in general for the governing verb not to show plural concord. 38 All of the places mentioned are local Shº{º shrines.
domestic life S-3 S38-3
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Were things better in the old days, or now? It was more fun in the old days than it is now… nowadays everyone hides away in their houses, not knowing anything about anyone else. But in the old days, every girl would chat with every other one, laugh with them, have fun with them, and they’d all leave the well together… then, each would go to her home. That’s how it was… What else? In the old days they built their houses out of grass, (so) where did they live in winter? Some lived in palm-branch huts, made with woven fronds… some lived in stone-and-mud houses with palm-frond roofs… some lived in stonebuilt houses… us, we lived in a stone house, God save us from calamity, a stone house that was half falling down, half up, half down. But we lived together in it and survived… and now we’ve grown up into women… and because of poverty, everybody was afraid of everyone else… when we first became aware of the world, there was poverty… and then, praise be to Him, God bestowed bounty on His creatures… There would be one person who just stayed at home starving to death, may God save us from calamity, and another whose children God spared, and who grew up, and who were fortunate, whose children got God’s blessings… like my father and the rest of the community… That’s how it was… What was your father’s job? My father was a seaman. In the old days? In the old days, yes, in the real old days… when it was the pearling season, he went pearling, when it was the fishing season, he went fishing … When it was noon, they would grill us a couple of fish from the sea, gather us together around a bit of flat bread and a few dates, and we’d eat it and praise the Lord… We never saw a penny, the whole live-long day… but when we wanted money, we’d go down to the sea and collect shell-fish for the fishermen (to use as bait)… one would give us a couple of anas, one four, one nothing at all… that’s how things were… What else? (***********************************************) Right, and the jobs you had in the old times, just going to sea? Fishing, farming, people working in the ‘company’, in the watercompany, people who collected date-stones (for use as cattle fodder), people who sold coal they’d collected from the shore... everything they gathered from the shore they’d sell. The ‘company’—what was that? The what’s-it, BAPCO. Is that all the jobs there were? There were people working in the airport as well… carpenters in the
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chapter five market… people worked everywhere… but their daily wage wasn’t what it is now… they got ten annas a day, six annas, half a rupee, four annas… it was only one in a thousand who had the least little thing… like those— those days of ration-coupons… they’d bring us from San¸bis to Khamºs… they’d leave with us around noon, after lunch, and they might bring us back after dinner, something like that… our mother would carry us, and carry a date-basket on her head… it was a lucky person who got hold of a date and left with it, and a lucky one who got a few grains of sugar, or rice, or wheat… or there was nothing at all, they came back empty-handed… but the way they lived was healthier than it is now… if what you’re getting at is health, they were healthy, if what you mean is the good things in life, they had them, if you mean… praise be to God, Lord of the Worlds, everything was really good, better than now, too. In the old days there were no cars… when you wanted to go from one place to another — We went everywhere on foot… to Sitra, by boat… and to Mu¥arraq, they went by boat, they’d cross by boat… from here to Man¸ma, they walked, to Sihla, they walked, to Karr¸na, they walked, to Karbab¸d, they walked, to D¹h, they walked, to Ýajar, they walked, to Abu Bh¸m, they walked… to what-d’you-call-it… everywhere you wanted to go, you went on foot… they’d leave after having their coffee in the morning, and they’d arrive perhaps when people had finished lunch, were getting up from having lunch, that sort of thing… even (the tomb of) Sheikh Ýs¹n, when they wanted to visit it, they went on foot… or Sheikh {Alº bin Ýam¸d’s (tomb), or Sheikh Mºtham’s (tomb)… it was all on foot… but people’s health was better than it is now, there’s no comparison… These days people can’t even walk from here to here! In your day, were there hospitals? Yes, there were hospitals. There was one on a Thursday, in al-Khamºs village… and on a Monday there was a government doctor in Nu{¹m… all at government expense… they’d send anyone there who needed treatment, and the ones who didn’t need it, didn’t need it. Was anybody treated at home? There was… you mean treatment at home by (proper) doctors that you paid for? No, I mean, in the old days. You mean, at home here in San¸bis or other places? Yes. No, there wasn’t.
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Text 3: Speakers 15 (A) and 16 (B): al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma: meals at home The text describes the daily routine of meals. The interviewer, T, is a teacher in the illiteracy eradication centre that both speakers were attending. S16-1
T-1 S15-1
ha-l-awwal, yiVbaxUn l-PaSa PES wi il-Jada PES... lEn adda fi l-lEl SAlaw lihim ligma bayyUta39... wi xaSSOha... lawwitOha b nitfat xalag, HaVVOha fi l-millAla40... u lEn adda F-FiHa, lEn trayyago min iR-RubH, iSrubaw il-gahwa u rAHaw il-PEn u vJsilaw u xalliRaw, xammaw... yaw iF-FiHa41 u nazzilOha, mlawwata b xalag... HawwalOha, HaVVOha... CAn Pindvhum yaPni smiCa galOha wiyyAha, Pindvhum laban, kalOha wiyyAh... mA Pindvhum, matUt42, hal l-awwal, hast matUt... yAxDUnvh, yAklUnvh wiyya HlAya... yiHuVVUnvh wiyya l-ligma l-bayyUta u yAklUnha... yAklUn il-PaSa PES, u yitrayyagUn u yAklUn il-bayyUta, u yAklUn il-Jada PES... mA RArat fIhum idbAb wilA mtinaw... u al-HIn, waGba waHda, u kil waHda dabbatha wES kubrvha, u kil waHda tgUl min il-PES matnAna, u kil waHda tgUl “ani CiDi u ani CiDi” u hADa, kil Say il-PAfya min allah, subHAnvh! u asma, yallah! iHna baPad, yAxDUn il-PES, yaPni yiVabxUn il-Jada, u yiVabxUn il-PaSa... u CAy mA miS, iR-RubH... PAd yAklUn iR-RubH ha-t-tamar wi l-gahwa... CAy awwal abdan mA miS fi l-baHrEn43... hAy Pala HayAt ummi u abUy, mub aHna 44 fi zamanna... fi zaman ummi u abUy yisOlfUn vhummv baPaFhum, CAy mA miS, yigUlUn Pindvhum fi l-baHrEn... yiSIrbUn il-gahwa wi t-tamar... wi l-Jada PES u simaC aw laHam, il-PaSa baPad kaDAlik45 ... u yiSirbUn PalEh46 laban... yAxDUn il-PES miTil il baytUnvh47 iliffUnvh iHuVVUnvh bi l-mirfaPa, u yAklUnvh iF-FiHa
39 Here used as an adjective bayyUt, though it is used by in S15-2 in the form bayyUta as a noun to designate ‘left-over food’. 40 A wooden hoist that could be raised towards the ceiling by ropes. This is the B term. The A term is given by S15: mirfaPa. 41 iF-DiHa the ‘forenoon’ was the period from late morning to noon. 42 matUt are small fish, similar to anchovy or small sardines (PUm) which are dried, ground up, and mixed with lemon juice to make an accompaniment to rice: throughout the Gulf, a poor person’s dish. The collective HlA (sing HlAya) is any kind of dried fish in B parlance; the A communities call it mAliH. 43 Tea started to be imported from India at the turn of the 20th century, and was initially thought of as a European and Persian drink. This occasioned an amusing debate poem written in the 1930s: see Holes C. D. ‘The Dispute of Coffee and Tea: a debate-poem from the Gulf’, in Smart J. (ed.) Tradition and Modernity in Arabic Language and Literature, Curzon Press London, 1996, pp. 30215. 44 Sic. iHna is the usual form. 45 An MSA form, probably caused by awareness of the tape-recorder. 46 Lit ‘to drink on it’—the idiom means to drink something as an accompaniment. 47 < illi yibaytUnvh
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wES isammUnvh? il-JabIb iHna nsammIh... vhummv isammUnvh bayyUta48 iHna nsammIh JabIb... hAy yisaxnUnvh u yAklUnvh... wi lA RAr fIhum Say... wi lA gaV infaxat49 PalEh dUda, wi lA gAlaw infaxat PalEh Say, wi lA gAlaw RAdvh HAyif, wi lA gAlaw Say... yAklUnvh, u kil waHda digg il-yirIda... u al-HIn kil waHda S-mitinna u S-PariFna!
Text 3: translation S16-1
T-1 S15-1
T-2 S15-2
48 49
Folks in the old days, they cooked rice for dinner and rice for lunch… when it was nighttime, they would take a bit of left over food, and put it away… they wrapped it up in a bit of cloth and put it in the hoist… Then in the morning, after they’d had their breakfast, drunk coffee and gone to the well and washed, and finished (their chores) and swept… they came back in the late morning and lowered it, wrapped up in a cloth… they brought it down, and served it up… If they had a (fresh) fish, they fried it with it, if they had butter-milk, they ate it with it… if they didn’t have any of that, they ate dried sardines, people in the old days, they had sardines… they’d eat it with dried fish … they would serve it with the left-overs from the night before and eat it—they would eat rice for dinner, and have breakfast, and eat the left-overs… they’d eat rice for dinner and for lunch, and they didn’t get fat bellies or put weight on … but now, one meal, and every woman’s got a big spare tyre, and every woman says she’s got fat from eating rice, and every one says ‘I’ve got like this, and I’ve got like that’… but all of this, well, health comes from God, may He be glorified! Asma, your turn. Us too, we would take rice and cook it for lunch, and cook it for dinner… there was no tea, in the morning… in the morning they ate dates and coffee… there was no tea at all in Bahrain in the old days… that was in the lifetime of my mother and father, not us in our time… some of them used to chat about it in my mother and father’s time… there was no tea, they used to say, in Bahrain… they would drink coffee, and dates…lunch was rice and fish, or meat, and dinner was the same…and they’d drink butter-milk with it… they’d take the rice, like what they’d left over, wrap it up and put it in the hoist, and eat it the next day. What did they call it? We called it JabIb…. they called it bayyUta, but we called it JabIb…
JabIb and bayyUta are another example of contrasting A and B terms for the same thing. Lit ‘blew on’.
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people warmed it up and ate it… and they never came to any harm… no maggot ever tainted it, people never said anything had tainted it, or that it had gone off, or said anything… they just ate it, and everyone was as thin as a rake50… but now, how fat and wide we all are! Text 4: Speakers 15 (A) and 16 (B): al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma: illness and its treatment The same two speakers as in the previous text describe illness and its treatment in the 1930s and 40s. T-1 S15-1
T-2 S15-2
50
awwal hast mustaSfayAt, yaPni? lA, mA miS mustaSfayAt... PAd fi zamanna hast, mAl ihni... Pind rAs rummAn... il-kUt51 isammUnvh, fi zamanna Hna... amma yaPni zaman ummi u abUy, yigUlUn lina kil maraF, abdan il-maraF RAdna, iGIna waham... bass insaxxin yOmEn TalATt ayyAm, isaxnUn52 yimUtUn... yAxiD... yaPni, mUl, il-firIG killvh yirUHUn bi s-sitta, sabPa min Pindvh, yimUtUn... aVibbA53 mA miS, Pala duwa l-Parab mAl il-HawwAy54... yiStirUn minnvh u yaPVUnhum... aw Pala l-HalUl... yAxDUn ha-l-HalUl55 u yiVabxUnvh u yiSirbUnvh, hADa duwAhum...fi zamanna Hna, min VilaPna hast aku56 hADa l-kUt, mAl rAs rummAn... wallah, PiSna, mA fIna Say trUHIn yaPni mustaSfa? E, arUH u twaddIni ummi...tAxiDni ummi twaddIni iDa Rirna maraFa... u VilPat HarAra ihni fi rAsi Ana, grAHa ha-l-mitin yOm kint vRJIra... tigUl
Lit ‘as thin as a palm stick’. This is a reference to the Queen Victoria Memorial Hospital, the rather grand name for what was actually a small adjunct to the original British Political Agency building (called il-kUt, probably < Eng court since the building also doubled as the court-house in legal cases involving subjects under British or Indian law) situated on the edge of R¸s Rumm¸n, in the northeast corner of Man¸ma. This was the only other hospital apart from the American Mission Hospital until the 1940s. The Agency was rebuilt in 1955 and became the British Council building in the 1970s. 52 S15 switches between her mother’s description in her own words and her own third person description. 53 An ‘educated’ from, which this speaker uses interchangeably with Bahraini daxtar pl daxAtir. 54 HawwAG/ HawwAy is a seller of local remedies. The word is used throughout the Gulf and southern Iraq. It is apparently derived from HawAQiG ‘household things, requisites’. 55 An all-purpose laxative and purgative made from PiSrig or sinAmakki, that is, senna, prepared from the dried pods of the cassia tree. 56 aku ‘there is’, used here alongside the typically Bahraini hast with the same meaning, is basically a Kuwaiti and southern Iraqi form, though it is occasionally heard in Bahrain (both communities); hAkhu/ hakku, which has a similar range of existential and presentative uses, is confined to the B rural communities. See S15-6 below for an example in a co-ordinated negative structure. 51
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chapter five liC yaPni tJarbalat yallah57 VAbat... liQannvh mA miS daxAtir Padla... id-duwa, willa CiDi yiJislUnha bass u yaPVUnha iyyAh, mA miS aVibbA... u sintEn u nuRR ha-l-HarAra fi rAsi Fallat... al-HIn [*]58 maSgUg SigAg ihni... mA miS aVibbA miTil al-HIn, Qubbar u adwiya... al-HIn aHsan min l-awwal yA xti! fAVma, wES awwal aVibba yOm intIn— aVibbA yOm iHna GihhAl mA Cift... illa tAli yaPni Pagal SlOn yaPni? min GIna ihni il-baHrEn, Cifna l-aVibbA yaPni... amma hnAk Pindvna mA Pindvna aVibbA wEn baladiC? dOHa, qaVar... mA fIha aVibbA yaPni... lEn, fi sana Hasana59, lEn Gaw, VabIb iHuVVUnvh fi bEt, titkAsar60 il-PAlam PalEh, lEn fIhum maraB lO fIhum Say... Pindvna ummi, umm ummi yaPni, Pan61 VabIb... Pan VabIb... yaPni lEn waHda marIBa, wi CAfatha yaPni mA Rarat zEna, vrSimatha bi raSma62 fi rAsha Cayya Cayya... isammUnha raSma... aw taHrig lEha PaVba63 u yaPni tiSammimha fi xaSimha, hAdi ummi l-POda, Pan VabIb... wallAda, twallid yaPni, Hatta l-mitPaRrIn64 taPrif lihum, tiwallidhum yaPni... RArat killiS illi fIh iftAg itParf lih65, mdAwIn l-awwal mA miS Hagg l-iftAg, PamaliyyAt willa JErvh... bass timruxvh, mA dri wES isawwUn fIh u iRIr zEn, hAy rAPi l-iftAg... nAs wAGid yaPni fIhum...iRIr bass iGIbUna lEha timruxha w iddAwIh 66... maTalan waHda PuyUna67 fIha Vall68, lO fIha haSim69 lO fIha yaPni yistawi
yallah here ‘then’, as in Baghdad (W&B 14). Unclear. 59 ‘Once in a blue moon’. 60 In Najd, ‘to haggle’ but here the idea is of people virtually fighting each other to get to see a visiting doctor. PAlam is usually treated as a fem noun. See S15-6, this text, for another example. 61 Pan here ‘in place of’, ‘instead of’, but also ‘tantamount to’, e.g. mara Pan PaSrat rayAyIl ‘a woman worth ten men’. 62 raSim < Aram ‘ring’ is a ‘stamp, impression’, here used as a synonym of Cayy ‘branding’. The latter is a better known term, hence S15’s explanatory intervention. 63 PaVba was a smouldering wad of cotton, a crude kind of smelling salts, used as a cure for headaches or to revive the unconscious. It was also thought to be a means of exorcising spirits from one affected (mistalbis) by them. In CLA, PuVba = ‘a piece of cotton or rag by which fire is taken’. 64 taPaRRar ‘to have contractions, a difficult labour’. 65 Paraf and faham are used with li/ ila/ Hagg in a sense similar to English ‘know about’, ‘have an understanding of’ some skill. 66 Sic. One would have expected iddAwIha. iGIbUna also clearly refers to a female sufferer, though the pron is -a not -ha. 67 Again, (see previous note) vPyUna for vPyUnha ‘her eyes’. The dropping of the h in -ha is a feature of the Man¸ma A dialects, which this speaker shows sporadically. 68 Explained as meaning ‘swelling’ in this context; the word can have the meaning ‘protrusion’ in Egypt (H&B 545). 58
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fIha Say, ssawwi b rUHha id-duwa... tAxid, isammUnvh Ratt70, Ratt il-faVIr 71... u tAxid bOl iB-Babb, tAxid il-maPBidiyya 72, tAxid nitfat il-murra... yaPni kil Say tAxid imminnvh73 Sway... u tisHanvh fi baPBvh baPB... u tisgIh b mAy mAl il-barada hAd illi yiVIH, tisgIh bih... u lEn istuwa, waddatha Hagg ha-l-vPyUn— smilla PalEkum74—fIha haSim, lO fIha Vall, u ddirrvh75, isammUnvh drUr... u ddirrvh min id-dirra...abdan! nArvh inVafat... dIk il-vPyUn illi mA CCUf imminha, iRRIr Cinnha l-PAfya il-awwaliyyIn killvh b ha-l-lOn Pan daxtar RAyra, Pan VabIb zEn, wES raykum fi l-mustaSfayAt? al-HIn wAGid zEna... “il-HwAl Pind il-Pumur yinfaP”76... al-HIn, lA... allah subHAnvh wi taPAla HaVV id-dawa u Amar77 bi V-VabIb... HaVV il-Ada78, u Amar bi V-VabIb... hAda Pilm, min Pind allah subHAnvh u taPAla... “Pallama l-insAna mA lam yaPlam”...E... hAda Pilm, min allah al-HIn il-aVibbA zAdat, w al-amrAF zAdat... l-awwal mA miS amrAF ha-l-kiTir.... wi lA ku maraF il-kila, wi lA ku79 iltihAb80, wi lA— mA miS illa masAkIn iDa yabbUn81 yimUtUn mA yParfUn Sinhu mOtathum Pala ay Say is-sabab... al-HIn tixassasat il-amrAF u VilPat il-aVibbA u iftahamat il-PAlam... u ha-l-vHbUb, u ha-l-adwiya, u ha-l-Qubbar, yaPni wAyid VilaP in-niFAm Padil, aHsan min l-awwal.
Cf CLA haSima ‘to crush, bruise s’thing’. A white powder, with the appearance of white lead, imported from India, which was combined with other medicaments to make an eye-ointment, known in southern Iraq as Radd (HAN 215). Bahraini informants claimed that Ratt was in fact a lead salt. 71 faVIr ‘fresh, newly prepared’ as in CLA. Definite noun-adj phrases of this type, without the article prefixed to the noun are common in the BA dialects. 72 HAN 356 glosses this as a Bedouin term for zarga used in folk medicine, which is known as zinGAra niyya in Baghdad or ‘verdigris’ (copper acetate). 73 immin + pronoun suffix for ‘from, of…’ is a feature of the B dialects of certain quarters of Man¸ma, notably R¸s Rumm¸n. 74 i.e. bismillAh PalEkum—one of a number of formulaic phrases uttered when something unpleasant is mentioned which one does not wish the listener to be afflicted with. 75 < Darr ‘to sprinkle with powder (Dirra)’ 76 HwAl here is a verbal noun from HAwal ‘to try’. The phrase is a common saying roughly equivalent to ‘when at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again’. 77 Amar (ps yAmir) is a more common form of this verb than amar among older Bahraini speakers, and is widespread beyond the Gulf: it occurs in central Arabia, southern Iraq, Tunisia and Tripolitania (GLOS 113-4). Another hamza-initial verb, Aman, behaves in the same way. 78 < ADa (CLA QaDA). 79 lA ku... wi lA ku is co-ordinated negative with this existential particle. See n.56 above. 80 Lit ‘inflammation’. She probably means iltihAb al-mafARil ‘arthritis’. 81 Here ‘to be on the point of’ dying. 70
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Text 4: translation T-1 S15-1
T-2 S15-2
T-3 S16-1 T-4 S16-2 S15-3 S16-3
S15-4 S16-4
Were there hospitals in the old days? No, there weren’t… In our time there was… the one here, in R¸s Rumm¸n… ‘The Court’ they called it, in our day… but in my mother and father’s time, they’d say to us about every illness that we weren’t ill at all, every illness that affected people was just their imagination… but they’d just run a fever for a couple or three days, they’d run a fever and die… an illness would take—I mean the whole neighbourhood, they would die six or seven of them at a time … there were no doctors, they just used folk remedies from the man who sold them… they’d buy stuff from him and give them it… or purgatives… they’d take some senna and boil it up and drink the liquid, that was their medicine… in our day, when we grew up, there was ‘the Court’ in R¸s Rumm¸n… anyway, we lived, there was nothing wrong with us. Did you go to the hospital? Yes, I went, my mother took me… my mother took me if we were sick… I had an inflammation here on my head, an ulcer this big when I was small… (my mother) would just say (about illness), ‘she became poorly, then she got better’… because there were no proper doctors… there was medicine, or they just washed you and gave it you… there were no doctors… I had this inflammation on my head for two and a half years… now [*] was all cut open here… there were no doctors like there are now, needles and medicines… things are much better now than they were, my dear! Fatima, what about the doctors when you— I never saw any doctors when we were kids… only afterwards. How was that? When we came here to Bahrain, we saw there were doctors… but when we were over there, there weren’t any. Where are you from? Doha, Qatar. There were no doctors…. And when—once in a blue moon—when they came, and they put a doctor in a house, people would fall over themselves to get to him, if they were ill or there was something wrong with them… In our family, my mother—my mother’s mother, I mean—took the place of the doctor… in place of the doctor… when someone was ill, or she saw that she wasn’t well, she burned her with a burn-mark on the head. A brand. A brand… they called it a ‘burn’… or she’d set light to a piece of rag, and waft it under her nose… that was what my grandma did, acting as a doctor… she acted as a mid-wife, delivering them, even the ones having a difficult labour, she knew how to cope with them, how to
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deliver them… she knew how to deal with people with hernias, there were no people who could cure hernias in the old days, no operations or anything, you just massaged it, or whatever they did with it, and it would be alright, that’s what the people who treated hernias did… lots of people had them… they’d just bring her to her and she’d massage her and cure her… and if for instance a woman had swollen eyes, or a bruise on them, or something was wrong with them, she’d treat it herself… she’d take what they call freshly ground Ratt, or monitor lizard’s urine, or verdigris, or a bit of myrrh… she’d take a bit of everything, and pound it up all together, and pour water on it that you get from hail stones that fall from the sky… and when it was ready, she would put it on her eyes…and —if you don’t mind my mentioning it—there was a bruise, or a swelling, she’d sprinkle it on… they call it ‘sprinkling’, she’d sprinkle on the powder… and … All gone! The inflammation had gone! Those eyes that she hadn’t been able to see out of were as right as rain! The old-timers were all like that. She was instead of a doctor, instead of a physician. Right—so what do you think of hospitals? Now they’re very good … In this life you have to try as hard as you can… now, no (implied ‘it isn’t like it was’)… God, may He be glorified created medicines and ordered the doctors—created pain and suffering and ordered the doctors (to cure it)…that’s knowledge, that comes from God, may He be glorified… ‘He taught mankind that which it knew not’… yes… that is knowledge, from God. These days there are more doctors, but more illnesses too… in the old days there wasn’t this amount of illnesses… or kidney illness, or arthritis, or—there were just poor wretches, who, when they were about to die, still had no idea what the cause was… these days illnesses have got worse, but we’ve got doctors, and people understand things more… what with these pills, drugs and needles. There’s a proper (medical) system now, it’s much better than before.
Text 5: Speaker 21 (A): Qu¤aybiyya, Man¸ma (m2/10) and Speaker 22 (A): Al-Ýidd (m1/45): peddlers These two A women, both in their 40s were interviewed by T, their B teacher at an illiteracy eradication centre. This excerpt concerns itinerant peddlers (HaGGAm, fem HaGGAma pl HaGAGIm) who formerly sold folk medicines and household goods. They were originally, as their name suggests, cuppers82, but with the advent of 82
The cupper bled his patient by making an incision in the patient’s flesh (yiSigg SigAg) and
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modern hospitals in the early 20th century and fall in demand for their services (though in the B villages of the 1970s cupping was still practiced83), they switched to the selling of household goods such as sewing cotton, needles, nail varnish and the like. Latterly, these peddlers were often women, and came from outside Bahrain. T-1 S22-1 S21-1
S22-2 S21-2
T-2 S21-3 T-3 S21-4 S22-2 S21-5 S22-3 S21-6 S22-4
wES yaPni Pan il-HaGAGIm? ingaVPaw il-HayAyIm! HaGAGIm iyUniC fi l-bEt... hADi baPad vmrayHIn in-nAs kAn, il-awwaliyyIn, yaPni mirtAHIn minhum... miTil Pindvhum manFara, Pindvhum yaPni miSaV, Pindvhim maSAbis84, Pindvhum ubbar, Pindvhum yaPni... kil nAHya illi tabJa, Pindvhum Hanna l-aFAfir PAd ityi Pind il-bAb tOguf tigUl “HaGGAm! buxUr, aJrAS”... ddiSS, yigUlUn “lA ddiSSi”... yidaxlUnha u tigPad, tbaVVil CIsha u tigPad... hAy tabbi manFara, u hAy tabbIC85 yaPni RubJ aFAfir, yaPni ay Say Pindvha tiStirIn? I, niStiri baPad, SlOn? miHtAGIn mA nigdar nrUH is-sUg, lAzim niStiri dikkAn, yaPni I, lAkin al-HIn lO tyi malAyIn Pind il-bAb, maHHad yiPtibirha baPad baPad mA tyi, ingaVPaw killvhum al-HIn tyi is-sUg, fi sUg il-arbaPa86 gAPdIn al-HIn kibar rUshum il-HayAyIm, mA aCUf iyUnna... lAkin sUghum aHsan min— lO yiCUfUn waHda fi S-SAriP bikasrUnha l-yihAl, al-HIn... wallah! bilaHgUnha min maHall yiwaRlUnha n-naJl il-PAmm87!
Text 5: translation T-1
What about the peddlers?
placing a small bottle, in which a vacuum had been created by burning paper in it, over the wound. The vacuum then sucked out the ‘bad blood’ (id-damm il-fAsid). Typically, the hair on the back of the patient’s neck and lower cranium was shaved off, and the incision made there. 83 See text 6, S78-7, in the chapter on Agriculture. 84 Sing miSbas ‘hair-grip’. For the lower Gulf HANZ 575 gives maSAbIR ‘women’s hair ornament’. In Bahrain SabbARa is a pair of pincers. The roots S-b-s and S-b-R (and S-b-V) all have to do with ‘gripping’. 85 The suffixation of -C to this verb was explained as a rhetorical feature similar to the use of the ethic dative in narratives (SAL 22-3). 86 The Wednesday market in central Man¸ma, where, at the time of this recording, pottery, mats, baskets, clothes and other things made in the villages were still being brought in and sold in an area near the former vegetable market. 87 Lit ‘public transport’. J < q.
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They don’t come any more! The peddlers used to come to your house… they really used to do a useful service to people in the old days, they were very glad of them… for instance, they had pocket mirrors, combs, hair-grips, needles, er… anything you wanted, they had it. Nail varnish. She would come to the door and stand, saying ‘Peddler! Incense… drinking vessels…’ She’d come in (without being asked), and people would say ‘Don’t come in!’ Then they’d let her in and she’d sit down, open her bag, and sit there… one woman would want a mirror, another nail polish, she had everything. Did you buy? Yes, we bought, what else could we do? We needed things and we couldn’t get to the market, we had to buy. It was like a shop. Yes… but now if she came, there’d be millions round your door, no one respects her any more. But they don’t come any more, they’ve all stopped. Now they come to the market, they set up at the Wednesday market. Now these peddlers have got above themselves, I don’t see them coming to us— But the market they have is better than— —but if they saw her in the street, the kids these days would attack her … By God they would! They would follow her from any place and take her to a bus stop (to get rid of her)! Text 6: Speaker 44: Nuw¹dr¸t (m1/28): childbirth
Speaker 44 was an illiterate village Ba¥r¸ni woman around 40 years old. Orphaned at about 6, she had been put to work helping clean other villagers’ houses while her mother worked as a labourer on allotment farms. She had been married at 9, and had had twelve children, eleven at home, and one in hospital. T is an A teacher working at an illiteracy eradication centre where S44 worked as the cleaner (farrASa). In childbirth, one of the mother’s elderly female relatives or another experienced female from the village or neighbourhood, would usually act as mid-wife, termed in the B villages kAbila (though S44 uses a different word), the verb being takabbal il-mara ‘to deliver a woman’ of a child. ‘Labour’ is Valg/ Valk as in the descriptions yaha V-Valg (A) ‘she went into labour’ and tiVlik, tiVlik, tiVlik, ilEn mA allah sallamha u GAbat walad (B village) ‘she pushed and pushed and pushed until God brought her through safely and she gave birth to a boy’. ‘To have a difficult labour’ is
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taPaRRar/ taPassar88. ‘To miscarry’ or ‘to cause to miscarry’ is in the B dialects sakaV, as in the statement of one village woman: abJa baPad al-HIn sabPa u bitt u askuV tAli ‘I want seven boys, and one girl, and then I’ll make myself miscarry after that’. The whims and cravings of pregnant women are called HOma89, as in Gatha l-HOma ‘she got a craving’. The period of forty days after parturition is known as nifAs, the verb tinaffas used of a woman who is recovering during this period. In the days immediately after giving birth, the new mother would be given fenugreek (Hilba), which was thought to counteract anaemia and help restore the blood she may have lost at the birth (yiraGGiP PalEha d-damm). Dishes of harIs, a dish of wheat and meat porridge90, and maBrUba, a dish of savoury rice, were also fed to a newly delivered mother (wAlid). Sometimes after childbirth, as in the description below, the mother was packed internally with salt; this has been explained as a means of tightening her muscles in order to increase her husband’s sexual satisfaction91, but may simply have been to prevent infection. Conception and childbirth were surrounded by a number of superstitions, one being that if a recently delivered woman kalat min awwal iR-REd Hagg il-HAFra, taCbisha ‘eats from the first catch of a (new) fish-trap, she will jinx it (with sterility)’. Continued failure to conceive caused some women to make a vow (naDar (A)/ nadar, naBar (B)) that if conception occurred, the newly pregnant women would perform some charitable or meritorious act in thanksgiving. A Ba¥r¸nº woman from Sitra, for example, reported that a neighbour had made the following vow to her: in allah faCC PawkI, baPVIS ziyAra ‘if God relieves my affliction (= here, inability to conceive), I will pay for you to go on a visit’, meaning in this case a pilgrimage to the Shº{º holy places of Najaf and Kerbela in Iraq. The speaker had always wanted to make this visit, but had never had the money to do so. Women from the {Arab communities on Mu¥arraq Island would visit a sandbank off al-Ýidd on which there was a rock known as Bu Sh¸hºn in order to make vows which were often to do with failure to conceive, or difficult pregnancies: iDa l-mara Hmilat92 aw il-mara marIFa, aw il-mara fIha Say, vnDaraw Pala bu SAhIn ‘if a woman conceived, or was ill, or there was something wrong with her, they would make a vow to Bu Sh¸hºn’.
88 This verb sometimes had emphatisation, sometimes not. Cf CLA QaPsara ‘to have a laborious childbirth’, taPaRRara ‘to become difficult (affair)’. See also text 4 S16-4 above. 89 Cf the CLA waHimat ‘she had a craving, longing’ said of a pregnant women. HOma < H-w-m may be a metathesis of the CLA root. In Oman (OP 468) wAHim is ‘pregnant’. 90 This dish is also strongly associated with Ramadan (see text 10 below). 91 PC 91. HAN 362 mentions that the Bedu of Kuwait and Iraq have the same practice, though without giving any explanation of it. 92 In this case, the supplicant would be asking that her new child be a particular sex (usually a male).
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T-5 S44-5 T-6 S44-6 T-7 S44-7 T-8 S44-8 T-9 S44-9
93 94 95 96 97
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SlOn kAn twildIn? wEn trUHIn lEn yIti bitUladIn93? awlid94 fi l-bEt yaPni min taHtiC95 u hADi? taHti HAbbat awlAd96 min ihni min id-dIra... awwal kAnat Pammati Sinhi HAbbat il-awlAd? tukPud taHtna! yaPni illi twallid il-mara E, twallid il-mara, tukPud taHtna...hAdi min Gibt ha-l-vbVUn97 al-HIn, mA JadEt illa [*] hAdi al-HIn illi Gibtvh... bass fakaV twaffat... wallah, iHdaPSar Bana98 Cillvh fi l-bEt... min mAtat Pammati, twaffat Pammati, RArat waHda dUnha99, hAkhi mawGUda bass waHda tyIbIn fi l-mustaSfa? bass waHda wi l-bAgi killvh fi l-bEt? E, Cillvh fi l-bEt yaPni zEnab vwlidat fi l-bEt? E ay aHsan, ihni lO— ihni aHsan...ihni astar100 astar...gaRidkum yaPni inna l-wilAda fi l-bEt astar min il-wilAda fi l-mustaSfa? E [*] al-HIn hAdi HAbbat l-awlAd, yaPni lO waBaPtIn, yaPni lEn allah PAVinniS101 il-PAfya, mA tiftikirIn fi HAbbat wilid wi lA JEruh... bitkUmIn tsawwIn aSJAliS, mA tifham... HAbbat il-awlAd iGGi tvJsil rAsiS102 u tiVlaP... lA mPAbal103 iB-Bana wi lA JEr iB-Bana... Cillvh PalES intIn... mPAblat
Ga/ yA + bi + ps verb means ‘to be about to, be on the point of’. Typically, like many B villagers from the east of Bahrain, S44 has a diphthong aw not O. taHt means ‘next to, adjacent to’ in the Gulf dialects as well as ‘below’. This term appears not to have been known to T, or to B informants from other villages. In Gulf Arabic, baVin pl bVUn means ‘pregnancy’ or, as here, ‘child’, as well as ‘stomach,
guts’. 98
Cf CLA Binw, Banw ‘children’. Here ‘in her stead’. 100 astar ‘more discrete’. This is a popular sentiment among the older generation, who prefer their own relatives to strangers when it comes to the management of intimate matters like childbirth. 101 Lit ‘has given you’. This is the ap of PaVa ‘to give’ with the -inn- infix before an object suffix. 102 ‘She washes your hair’: a euphemism for washing away the blood and afterbirth. tiJasil rASha, said of an adolescent girl, means that she has reached the age of menstruation (Cf DICK 162). 103 mPAbal and mPAbala, verbal nouns < PAbal ‘to look after’. This, and several derivatives such as PabAla ‘trouble, effort’ appear to be local B variants of the CLA root H-m-l with similar meanings, cf CLA HAmala ‘to help s’one carry s’thing’. In other B villages, HamAla is used with the same sense as PabAla. 99
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chapter five iB-Bana... mPAblat iB-BanA u...tikramIn, l-awwal milH … l-awwal mu miflAt al-HIn.
Text 6: translation T-1 S44-1 T-2 S44-2 T-3 S44-3 T-4 S44-4
T-5 S44-5 T-6 S44-6 T-7 S44-7 T-8 S44-8 T-9 S44-9
How was it when you gave birth? Where did you go when you were going to deliver? I gave birth at home. Who was with you, and so on? A mid-wife (HAbbat il-awlAd) from here in the village… first, it was my aunt. What is a HAbbat il-awlAd? She stays with you! You mean she delivers the woman. Yes, she delivers the woman, she stays with her… When I had these children, I only went [*] the one I’ve just had… but she died… By God, I’ve had eleven children, all at home… when my aunt died, when she passed away, another woman took her place, and she’s still alive. You just had the one in hospital? Just one. The rest all at home? Yes, all at home. You had Zenab at home? Yes. Which is better, here or — Here is better… it’s more discrete. ‘More discrete’… you mean that having children at home is more discrete than it is in hospital? Yes… Now this mid-wife, I mean, when you’ve delivered, and you’ve come through it alright, you’re not thinking about the mid-wife or anything else… you just do what you have to, she doesn’t understand what’s going on… the mid-wife just ‘washes your hair’ and leaves— she doesn’t look after the child or anything else… it’s all up to you, looking after the child, looking after the child and—excuse me for mentioning it—(putting in) the salt, in the old days… the old days weren’t like now.
The following three texts deal with women’s clothes and jewellery. Much of a woman’s wardrobe was the product of her own labour, it being cheaper to make one’s own than have it made at the tailor’s (id-darzi), which also involved potentially embarrassing visits to his shop to be measured.
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Text 7: Speakers 15 (A) and 16 (B): both from al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma (m2/7): everyday dress in Man¸ma These are the same speakers as in texts 3 and 4 of this chapter. T-1 S15-1
T-2 S16-1
u wES libisha yaPni, il-bint? SlOn, wES tilbas? awwal, tilbas darrAPa104 u buxnag105, il-Parab... bass darrAPa, u buxnag... wi l-mara tilbas darrAPa u TOb u milfaP106 u daffa107 umm l-vsmiCa108... wi l-banAt, lA, bass darArIP u baxAnig, iHna kilna... w al-HIn baPad istuwEna nafAnIf u sufUr sufUr w il-Paba Pa Fahr rAsha... xallI iValPUn ubuhAtna u iCUfUnna! awwal nistaHi min rAPi l— il-HammAl, inxiSS rUHna! u rAPi l-kandar, inxiSS rUHna... al-HIn lA! wi lA abdan mUl sufUr iHna wAgfIn inHACihum w il-ixit fAVma, wES awwal il-bint tilbas, wES illi tilbas awwal109? iHna, libisna il-baHArna, tilbas sirwAl110, wa darrAPa wa TOb, wa buxnug u miSmar111, il-banAt... u miSmar fi l-bEt... mA tiVlaP lO abUha giddAmha...
104 A full-length, narrow shift with a neck opening and long, very narrow sleeves to the wrists, with patches at the sides to allow free movement. This was all that a girl or woman needed to wear inside the family home. The CLA term darP meant exactly the same thing (L 872). 105 buxnag/ buxnug: a kind of combined bonnet and shawl worn by pre-pubescent girls that covered the head, was tied under the chin, and left the face free, and extended to about half way down the girl’s body. It often had piped edges (siffa) and was embroidered down the front (mxawwar), and for special occasions was decorated with gilded cord (zari). The word is attested for CLA, and indeed, occurs in a line of al-Mutanabbi’s early poetry: yuqtalu l-PAGizu l-GabbAnu wa qad yaPGizu Pan qaVPi buxnuqi l-mawlUd ‘The impotent coward, who may even be incapable of cutting off the hood of a newborn babe, is killed’. 106 The black filigree face-veil, that came in a wide variety of types, e.g. vmfarrax ‘with a flower pattern’, naJda ‘with gold and silver lamé (for special occasions)’. On puberty, girls switched from the buxnag to the milfaP as head covering in public places. 107 daffa is a synonym of Paba and PabAya, the black combined cloak and head covering worn by women in public. 108 A type of black cloak that had threads of gilded cord woven onto the sides at waist-level, like a belt. The name apparently derives from the similarity of the shape of this ‘belt’ to that of a fish. 109 The teacher asks the second speaker the same question because she is from the Ba¥¸rna community, which has a slightly different form of female dress. 110 Women’s under-trousers (western-style underclothes were not worn) that had various types of decoration, but were all normally loose fitting at the hips and upper thigh and gradually tapered to be tight fitting at the ankles. 111 The miSmar is a quintessentially Ba¥¸rna garment. It is a loose fitting over-dress incorporating a head covering of the same material, and ones for everyday wear are lightweight and made of brightly
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chapter five mA tiVlaP illa b miSmarha, miltaffa... Pindvna PEb, l-awwal... al-HIn mA miS, hADi mA yaPmal... wa l-mara lEn yaPni maTalan ligAha xaVIbha fi l-bEt, mA iCUfha lO hu wiyyAha fi l-bEt, yaPni... lA! tinxaSS! lO iCUfha min dAk il-bAb, tiVlaP min ha-l-bAb... tindaPis, mA iCUfha lO itimm Sahar wiyyAha lO SahrEn lO sana u hu wiyyAha fi wasV il-bEt mA iCUfha... daffatha taHatha u gAPida... min tismaP Hissa min il-bAb itlaHHafat bi d-daffa u tJamJamat... wi n-niswAn TyAb il-batta112 u TyAb l-ibrIsam, l-vmfaHHaH113, l-vmPOraG114, E... u hADi, Sismvh, is-sarAwil il-hADi— l-aJlas115... wi l—... mAl nagSa mAlat il-gaVAfa illi isammUnha... u TyAb il-batta, darArIP il-batta isawwUnha... u dOsat il-baSSa 116, al-HIn isammUnvh “bu warda”, hADi l-vTyAb... wi l-manAris117 ... al-HIn hADa killvh mA miS... E, u maSAmir iz-zari... wi S-SElAt118... hADi killvh mAl il-awwal.
Text 7: translation T-1 S15-1
What did girls wear? What kind of clothes? In the old days, they would wear a shift and a hood, the {Arab would... just a shift and a hood… and women would wear a shift and an overdress, and a black filigree face-veil, and a cloak with a fish-pattern at the waist… but for girls, no, just shifts and hoods, all of us… but now we’ve started wearing (western-style) dresses and going unveiled, with our cloaks pushed back on our heads… just imagine if our fathers come out and saw us! In the old days we were shy of the… porter, we’d hide ourselves! And the waterman, we’d hide ourselves… but not now! We stand there completely unveiled and talk to them.
coloured printed cottons. The miSmar zari however is a heavier over-dress with gilded braid worn only on special occasions, such as weddings. 112 batta is a type of light silk, though informants were unsure in what way it differed from ibrIsam 113 This is a type of loose fitting silk dress, often worn by brides, with very long, pendulous sleeves, made from rectangular pieces of different, brightly coloured silks sewn together—usually green, violet, black and orange. The four colours form a horizontal, flag-like pattern in the sleeve when the arms are held out at 90º to the body, and a vertical one from the waist of the dress to its hem. The neck opening is decorated to the waist with heavy gold braid and gold designs sewn on in patterns. 114 A dress with a zigzag pattern. The C¡CaC pattern is associated with colours, shapes and movements: HOmar ‘to be reddish’, POraG ‘to zigzag’, HObal ‘to roll (ship)’. 115 In CLA, Jalas ‘darkness before dawn’ 116 baSSa is a type of large, light-coloured duck. dOsa ‘footprint’. 117 A sari-like garment made of silk < H banArisi a type of silk from Benares, a city in India. 118 A headscarf of fine black material, often with silver lamé (called naJda), which is wrapped around the head and hangs down as far as the chest.
domestic life T-2 S16-1
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And F¸«ma, what did girls used to wear, what did they wear? Us, the Ba¥¸rna, our dress was under-trousers, and a shift, and an overdress and a hood, and an over-mantle, for girls… an over-mantle in the house… a girl would never appear, even if it was just her father before her, without her over-mantle, she’d be all covered up… for us it was shameful, in the old days… now, there’s none of that, it doesn’t apply any more… and a woman, when, say, her fiancé met her in her house, he wouldn’t see her even if he was with her in the house… no! She’d hide! If he saw her from one door, she’d go out of the other one—she’d hide. He wouldn’t see her even if he spent a month in her house, or two months, or a year—he still wouldn’t see her. She’d be sitting there, with her cloak next to her. As soon as she heard the noise of the door (opening), she’d cover herself up with her cloak and conceal herself…And for women, there were over-dresses made out of fine or ordinary silk, there was the striped dress, and the one with a zigzag pattern and those—what’s-their-name—dark grey-coloured trousers, and the ones with spots on, as they call them, that the Qa«ºfis wear… and silk dresses, and the silk shifts they used to make…and the ‘duck’s foot’ pattern, the one they now call the ‘rose-pattern’, those were the dresses… and those dresses like Indian saris… that’s all gone now… yes, and mantles with gold thread in them… and cloaks… those were all the old types of garments.
Text 8: Speaker 41: Jidd Ýafª (m1/16): everyday dress in a Ba¥¸rna village I-1 S41-1 I-2 S41-2
wES tilbasIn? nilbas il-gEVAn119, nilbas xyAVa—sarAwla yisammUnhum “xyAVa”... nilbas marAri120, miSxaR121... buxnug iHna labasna yOm iHna fatAya yOm intUn RJAr? il-fata122 min tiParris mA tilbas buxnug il-awwal, yaPni ha-l-buxnug tilbasha im dAm iHna fatAya ... u min yiParsUn yilbasUn malAfPa... E.. malAfPat naJda, imSaGGari
119 sirwAl gEVAn or sirwAl abu gEVAn or simply gEVAn are all terms for women’s under-trousers of an everyday type. gEVAn is the name of the fringe of fine cotton threads that hangs down from the ankle-band. 120 Sing mirriyya a type of gold necklace. 121 A term used for throughout the Gulf to refer to any coin- or globe-shaped pieces of gold used in women’s traditional jewellery. The word originally seems to have been a noun of place, the name for a coin with an effigy or image (SaxR) stamped on it. 122 fata pl fatAya for ‘unmarried girl’ was heard in Jidd Ýafª, San¸bis and an-Nu{¹m only.
230 I-3 S41-3
I-4 S41-4
chapter five fIhum zari fIhum zari... u hAdi axadat milfaPi wi lA GAbatvh baPad! E! kil wAHid tilbas min Pind il-fAni yaPni, lAbis baPBna baPB—kil wAHid lEn GAz lEha Say-in Pind rafIgat-in123, lAbis baPBna baPB yaPni kil wAHid tirBa? E!
Text 8: translation I-1 S41-1
I-2 S41-2
I-3 S41-3
I-4 S41-4
What did you wear? We wore (trousers with a) cotton ankle-fringe, we wore our ‘sewing’— they called trousers ‘sewing’– we wore gold necklaces, gold coins… we wore hoods when we were young girls. When you were small? Girls in the old days, when they got married, didn’t wear the hood any more … they wore a hood as long as they were unmarried… when they married they wore a face-veil… yes… face veils with gold and silver lamé, or with patterns on them. There was gilded cord in them. There was gilded cord… and there’s a woman who took my face veil and hasn’t brought it back yet! Yes! One girl would wear another girl’s clothes, we clothed each other—when someone took a fancy to something her friend had, she’d let her wear it. Everybody was happy to do that? Yes!
Text 9: Speaker 38: San¸bis (m1/33): clothes for special occasions and jewellery I-1 S38-1
nzEn... lEn gaPadtUn l-awwal, mA ssawwUn xyAVa, willa ttaPallamUn, willa ssawwUn Say? min wES mA yitPallamUn xyAVa?yiguPdUn vb GamPathum... in CAn hi fayat iR-RubH, fayat iR-RubH, in CAn fayat il-PaRir, fayat il-PaRir, in CAn hum fi l-layawAn124, fi l-layawAn... u yiguPdUn, hAdi bi sAlfatha, u hAdi bi
123 Dialectal tanwIn. Its function here is to emphasise non-specificity: Say-in ‘something or other’, rafIgat-in ‘some friend or other’. 124 layawAn/ lIwAn is an amalgamation of the CLA IwAn and the definite article. The same phenomenon is observable in a few other words, e.g. ligEma, lahAna. In Bahrain, the layawAn is a covered and recessed veranda or arcade along one side of the interior of the house, which gives onto its central courtyard.
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sAlfatha, u hAdi bi sAlfatha... u BuHkaw, anAsa, u xErAt... u hAdi min tyIb dallatha vb GudUPha125, u hAdi tyIb JUrIha vb GudUPvh, u hAdi min tyIb gahwa u CAy... Pala hawa l-insAn! Hagg wES mA yiStaJilUn? hAdi bi siffatha126, u hAdi bi xyAVatha u hAdi bi muhratha, hAy txayyiV naJda, hAy txayyiV vmSayyara, hAy txayyiV mirtubAn127 mAl awwal mA SiftUnvh... kil arbaP SaGarAt masbUCIn fi baPaBhum baPB... u xalf hAdelEn yiHuVVUn minni dagg u minni dagg u minni dagg... irabPUn iS-Say arbaPat tarAbIP... mA laHagtUn128 Pala xyAVa l-awwal wES rangvh... hAdi l-vmfaHHaH, wi l-PurEGa 129 wi l-vswEsa130... hAdi kilhum vfyAb isawwUnhum, yilbasOnhum... xuRUR hAy il-ParUs iDa Pindha fOb POda, yigUlUn fOb mAlat Pirisha... wES rangvh fOb Pirisha? gAl fOb vmrakkab... sirwAl vmHaGGal131, milfaP naJda, miSmar ibrIsam—hADa mAl ParUs, mAl Pirs, il-awwal... gaHfiyyat vwrEgAt vb miSxaRha132... il-mirtubAn... iS-SmEla133, banAGiri Habb il-hEl, tarACi “RabAH il-xEr”134, aryAS mAl hADa abu saPaf, mAl abu naxla bi fRUR fintEn, aryAS135 mAl abu baVVa, RanAGIq136 mAl hAda— ummahAt vfRUR, ummahAt danAdIn137, SanAJIq Cidi miflAt il-malAzim... kil wAHid Pala hawAh... miznad138 fi l-Halg... hAdi yAsmIna139... glAda umm HAfir140... awwal mA ummi illi yiPiddUn Pan ROJha, mA fahamna lEha illa SarrUx minni SarrUx minni... Cinnha bint faqIr.
125 G < g is not a regular sound change in this or any other B village. See the Language Notes for this speaker. 126 Lit ‘weaving’, but the term is used both for weaving palm-fronds to make baskets, eating mats, etc, and for sewing piping onto the edges of garments like the buxnug. 127 mirtubAn is, according to informants, a type of embroidery. Martaban is a town in India famous for its large glazed clay jars, which are known in the Gulf, and to which the town gave its name. It is unclear whether there is any connection between the town and mirtubAn embroidery. 128 Lit ‘to catch up with’, always used in the sense of ‘be alive to see’, ‘see with one’s own eyes’. 129 Another name, apparently, for l-vmPOraG, a dress with a zigzag pattern. 130 I was unable to discover exactly which type of dress was meant by this term. 131 A type of decorated under-trouser with embroidered anklets (mHaGGal), worn on special occasions such as weddings. 132 A cap, usually made of green and red material and edged with gold coins. 133 A type of broad bangle with groups of pink and turquoise stones inset and embossed. 134 Pendant earrings, with between two and four crescent shapes, increasing in size. 135 rISa pl aryAS is an elongated hair-clip, studded with stones. 136 Plain oval-shaped hair-clips. 137 Sing dandUn. These are pendant chains attached to one edge of the rISa. 138 A pearl choker with a central pendant at the neck. 139 The word used is normally the local one, rAzGi ‘Arabian jasmine’. Garlands of this are placed round the bride’s neck. 140 I was unable to discover exactly what type of necklace this was. HAfir means ‘horseshoe’.
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chapter five
Text 9: translation I-1 S38-1
Right… when you were at home in the old days, didn’t you sew, or learn, or make something? Why wouldn’t they have learnt how to sew?! They would all sit together… If it was the time of morning shade, they sat in the morning shade, if it was the time of afternoon shade, they sat in the afternoon shade, if they were under the veranda, they sat under the veranda… and they would sit there, this girl with her work, and that one with hers, and another one with hers… and they would laugh, having fun, with lots of good things—this one would bring her coffee-pot and snack, that one her tea-pot and snack, another one coffee and tea… just as they liked! Why wouldn’t they work?! This one would be weaving palmfronds, that one making clothes, another doing her job…this one would be sewing cloth with gold and silver thread, another sewing in geometrical patterns, another mirtubAn embroidery of the old days, that you haven’t seen …sets of four individual patterns, each intertwined with the other… and behind them they sewed reinforcements, one here, one here, one here… they divided their work into four squares… you aren’t old enough to remember the old styles of dress-making…the striped dress, the zigzag, the swEsa… these were all different types of dress they made and wore… especially the bride, if she had a big dress, they said it was her wedding dress… what was it like, her wedding dress? A dress assembled (from many parts)… trousers with embroidered ankle-bands, a filigree face-veil with lamé, a silk over-mantle—that was for the bride, for the wedding, in the old days… a cap with gold leaves and gold coins attached … the mirtubAn… broad bangles with pink and turquoise stones, bangles with cardamom-pod embossments, ‘good-morning’ earrings, hair-clips in the shape of palm-fronds, hairclips shaped like palm-trees with two stones inset, ‘duck’ hair-clips, oval hair-clips with stones inset, ones with pendant chains, ones that looked like safety pins… everyone did it their own way… a choker with a central pendant, round the throat… jasmine garlands (round her neck)… a chain of the umm HAfir type… My mother, who they still talk about because of her jewellery collection, all we can remember about her was her wearing a rag here, a rag there… looking like a poor man’s daughter.
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Text 10: Speaker 18 from al-Guf¢l (m2/9) and Speaker 19 from Salm¸niyya (m2/8): ramadan Both speakers are urban Ba¥¸rna from newly developed suburbs of Man¸ma, but speak an A dialect (see text 1, Marriage, and Language Notes). The main speaker, S18, describes the foods that were typically eaten during Ramadan, the social obligation of offering food to one’s neighbours, especially the less well off, and neighbourhood visiting (yisayrUn Pala baPFhum baPF) during the course of the month. The children’s practice of gargaPUn/ grEgSOn at the halfway point in Ramadan (in-nARfa) will be described in the chapter on Childhood. S18-1
T-1 S18-2 S19-1
mAl ramaFAn, allah yisalmiC, hADi, kAn l-awwal, hali, vhummv nawAxDa141, u yisawwUn Pindvna daCCa142 Pala l-baHar minnAk... u hADi l-yazwa, kil il-yazwa hi yitfaVVarOn143 Pindvna... yiHuVVOn liC144 Gidir u Cam min rubPa— harIs... u bisawwUn145 ha-s-sAgu bass Sinhu S-Say il-PAdi, yaPni, fi rmaFAn, illi yiRIr Pind kil in-nAs? il-harIs wi T-TarId146... wi s-sAgu wi n-niSi, hADi— FarUri
141 S18 is alluding to the fact that the nOxaDa had considerable standing (and relative wealth) in the local community, and generosity during Ramadan was a social expectation of him, even if it was not always fulfilled. 142 daCCa has several meanings. Here it refers to a platform or bench set up against the outer wall of the house, on which Ramadan food was laid out for visitors and passers-by. The word is also used for the stone step of a house, and, metaphorically, for someone young and having little knowledge or common sense. 143 This was a form of alms giving, known as fiVra (or in CLA Radaqat al-fiVr—see L 2416 sub fiVr). The same name was used for the purchase and distribution of uncooked rice (il-PES in-nAy) at the end of the fasting month. 144 An example of the ‘ethic’ dative, a device to involve the listener in the unfolding narrative. See SAL 22-23. 145 Throughout this text, S18 has a variable tendency to use the b- proclitic when describing habitual actions in the past. The force of b- in the Gulf dialects is normally, however, proximate intent, like English ‘going to’, ‘intending’. It seems, by using b-, as if S18 is describing things from the point of view of the actors, describing what they would do next in a sequence, rather in the way English ‘would’ is used as a future-in-the-past to describe intentions. A particularly clear example is S18-6: ‘and they would crumble it into these stews, then they would ladle out the meat porridge, and put it out on the mats’. 146 These two dishes, for all Bahrainis, are (or were) the essence of traditional Ramadan. harIs is a thick, dough-like porridge of cracked wheat and meat; TarId is a dished of braised meat and its juices into which rounds of thin unleavened bread (xubz irgAg) are crumbled (Tarrad ‘to crumble (bread)’—whence the name—see S18-5). In former times it was common, before the start of the fasting month, for fasters to take PiSrig ‘Meccan senna’ (cassia italica) to purge themselves before embarking upon the month-long oily, fatty, sugary Ramadan diet.
234 S18-3 T-2 S18-4 T-3 S18-5
T-4 S18-6
T-5 S18-7 T-6 S18-8 T-7 S18-9 T-8 S18-10 S19-2 S18-11
chapter five wi l-PES l-vmHammar147 wi s-simiC il-maglay, hADi Hagg is-saHrAt148 Vayyib, Hagg— Hagg is-saHUr...hADi PAd, allah yisalmiC, yisawwUn ha-l-harIs, u hADi bEt hali yiHuVVUn ha-d-daCCa kilha mafrUSa imdAd... Hagg iB-ByUf killv yOm Hagg iB-ByUf killv yOm...hADi wi l-aJrAS149 Pala VUl id-daCCa vmbaxxarIn, Hagg il-mAy... yibaxrUnhum il-CanAyin wa l-PabId... yibaxrUn u yiHuVVUn... yitarsUn, min iR-RibH, u biRuffUnhum Pala d-daCCa... u yiwaddUn l-vsfar... u yigPadUn Hagg ha-l-harIs u yiFarbUnvh u yiTardUn ha-l-xubuz l-irgAg, yiHuVVUn ytiGAbilUn... xubuz irgAg lAzim Hagg— E, lAzim Hagg ramaFAn, xubz irgAg... u biTardUn ha-R-RawAlIn 150 u biniCbUn ha-l-harIs, u bidazzUnvh killvh Pala ha-l-vsfar... wi tamar, wi l... sAgu, wi n-niSi, wi l-kabAb awwal mA Pindvkum miTil maHlabiyya? bala, bala, yisawwUn maHlabiyya, hADi yisawwUnvh wi s-sAgu... xabIR151... maHlabiyyat PEs yisawwUn, Pala HalIb Gili152 u Di mA fIh? lA, lA, Gili mA fIh... hAy killvh Hagg il-fuVUr? E... u byigPad abUy, allah yirHamvh, u kil mA marr wAHid gAl lih “itfaFFal!” mu miTil al-HIn yisikkUn... VabPan awwal iRallUn— iRallUn Pugub il-fuVUr yiHuVVUn hADa l-fuVUr, u kill-in153 ya yifVar... wi l-gahwa maHVUVa, wi
147 That is, cooked rice to which molasses (dibis), brown in colour, have been added to make it sweet. The dish was also known as baranyUS < Pers birinG ‘rice’, yUS ‘dark’. This, together with grilled fish, was also the normal evening meal of the crew on a pearling boat, its high sugar and carbohydrate content being a cheap way of giving the divers the energy they needed for a strengthsapping job. 148 saHra or saHUr, the meal taken just before dawn, immediately before the fast began. 149 JarSa is now the normal word for a bottle of (e.g.) soft drink, but was originally a small clay vessel from which water was drunk. 150 Pl of RAlUna < H sAlna, sAlan ‘curry’. Throughout the Gulf, the word refers to any spicy stew. 151 One of the sweets, along with sago and rice pudding, inextricably associated with traditional Ramadan. It is made from a roux of flour to which clarified butter, sugar, water, saffron and cardamom are added. 152 < British Eng jelly, which became popular with the influx of English employees at BAPCO in the 1940s and 50s, along with other delicacies such as l-vslEs < slice, the ‘cream slice’, a type of English patisserie. 153 Dialectal tanwIn with kill is common in the A dialect.
domestic life
T-9 S18-12 T-10 S18-13 T-11 S18-14 T-12 S18-15 S19-3 S18-16 S19-4 S18-17 T-13 S18-18 S19-5 S18-19 T-14 S18-20 T-15 S18-21
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l-CAh154, u kill-in tfaFFal, qasal IdEh u Sarab il-gahwa wi l-CAh, u miSa l-masyad... awwal yifaVrUn Pala t-tamr wi l-mAy155, VabPan— u irUHUn iRallUn— baPadEn iGUPUn— Hagg il-akil... u yAklUn... yiHuVVUn Hagg id-darArIs156 baPad, Hagg illi yidirsUn... kil bEt, maylisvh kil lEla? kil lEla... id-darArIs lEn yiVigg bu VbEla157... id-darArIs...itsaHHar, yiHuVVUn Hagg il-Jabga158, wi l-awAdim iyUn yAklUn miTil hADa n-niSi wi l-harIs yaPni fi ramaBAn mA fIh irgAd, yaPni killvh sahar? lA, lA, killvh sahar li R-RibH... lEn aDDan iR-RibH u Rallaw, bass, irgidaw... VUl iF-FiHa rAgdIn, iF-Fihir yAyIn mirtAHIn wi n-niswAn txadim awwal fi l-lEl yihAl killvna nilPab u nistAnis fi ramaFAn, yaPni... al-HIn mA miS! is-sahar, yisayrUn Pala baPFhum baPF, mA miS al-HIn al-HIn maHHad yirUH abdan! Di bisayyir Pala Di, u Di il-yOm Pind hADi Jabga, bACir Pindi Jabga, bACir Pind hADi Jabga... kil yOm Pind nAs kil yOm id-dOr Pala— kil yOm dOriyya, isammUnha dOriyya al-HIn min tfaVVaro, daggo159 b rUHhum maytIn maraFa! al-HIn zAd il-kisal! l-awwal Pala HaVab yiVubxUn awwal liQannvh mA fIh lEtAt, mA fIh aSya, killvh yiVlaPUn barra, saharkum barra fnAra al-HIn aysiyya160, yitxaSSaSUn fi l-vbyUt! wallah, kil waqt wiyya waqtvh Hilu
CAh and CAhi are the ‘old-fashioned’ pronunciations; now, virtually universally, it is CAy. A date and a glass of water is the traditional way of breaking the daily fast, followed by attendance at the mosque and then a full dinner. 156 Sing darrAs: ‘a student of the Koran during Ramadan’. 157 Abu VbEla ‘the man with the small drum’ touring the streets on foot was still, into the early 1970s, the normal means of rousing sleeping fasters for the pre-dawn meal during Ramadan. 158 This is the midnight meal taken during Ramadan. The word has a Classical pedigree, cf CLA Jabaqa ‘to give s’one a late evening drink (JabUq)’. The daily routine was fuVUr, a large meal at the end of the day’s fast; Jabga, a light meal taken at about mid-night; and saHUr or saHra, a meal taken just before dawn. 159 An idiomatic expression meaning here ‘sleep’. dagg lit ‘knock, beat’, has a number of idiomatic meanings centred on the idea of doing something continuously or over a long period, e.g. daggEnAha maSi ‘we covered the whole distance on foot’, the implication being that it took a long time. 160 Pl of aysi < Eng A.C. (‘air-conditioner’). 155
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chapter five E, RaHH kil waqt mA yistiHi min waqtvh... il-gEF Hilu vb gEFvh, wi l-iSta Hilu b iStah... u kil waVar161 wiyya waVrvh... Hamdillah! Cifna awwal u Cifna l-HIn allah yiVawwil Pumurkum!
Text 10: translation S18-1
T-1 S18-2 S19-1 S18-3 T-2 S18-4
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As far as Ramadan is concerned, God save you, my family used to be sea-captains, and they would set up a platform at our house by the seashore over there… and the crew, all the crewmen would break their fast at our house…they would put out a cooking pot and a few 4 lb lots—of meat porridge… and they’d make sago. But what were the usual things in Ramadan, that everyone had? Meat porridge and meat-broth with bread… and sago, and cornflour pudding, that was— Obligatory. And rice cooked with molasses, and fried fish, that was for the meal eaten before dawn. Right, for— For the pre-dawn meal… and again, God save you, they’d make meat porridge, and at my family’s house they put out the platform, all covered with runners. For the guests every day. For the guests, every day… and drinking vessels for water, along the length of the platform, cooled by evaporation… the young women of the house, and the servants would cool them… they would cool them down and put them out… they would fill them in the morning and line them up on the platform… and they would put out eating mats… and they would sit down to make the meat porridge and pound it, and they would crumble that flat bread into the meat-broth… they would put it out, sitting opposite each other.
161 ‘Time, era’. Also used in the UAE in the same sense (HANZ 661). The same word among Bedouin in the Buraimi area of Oman (@l B¢ Sh¸mis) has the slightly different meaning ‘hard time’ as in xaVaf PalEna waVar ‘we lived through hard times’ (cf wagt ‘time’ which has undergone a similar semantic development in Najd where it means ‘period of drought and hardship’). In neither sense does waVar seem to be connected to its CLA homonym, which means ‘object desired’. It may historically be a metathesis of CLA Vawr ‘time, state, condition’, in support of which hypothesis one notes the Bahraini Arabic verb twaVVar ‘to develop, evolve’ which is a clearly a later metathesis, from the same root, of MSA taVawwar, and with the same meaning.
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There had to be flat bread for— Yes, there had to be flat bread for Ramadan… and they would crumble it into these stews, then they would ladle out the meat porridge, and put it out on the mats… and there were dates, and—… sago, and cornflour pudding, and kebabs. Did you have things like rice pudding? Yes, yes, they made rice-pudding, they made that, and sago… and xabIR… They made rice pudding, with milk. Wasn’t there jelly and that kind of thing? No, no, there wasn’t any jelly. Was all that for breaking the fast? Yes… and my father would sit there, may God have mercy on him, and every time someone walked by, he’d say ‘Please, come and eat!’ Not like now, when everyone closes their doors. Of course, they would pray first— They’d pray. After breaking their fast. They’d put out the fast-breaking meal, and everyone would break his fast… and the coffee would be put out, and the tea, and everyone would help themselves, wash their hands and drink coffee and tea, and go to the mosque. First of all, they’d break the fast with dates and water, of course— And go and pray— Then they’d feel hungry— For food… and they’d eat… and they’d put food out for the Koran students as well, for the ones reading the Koran… every house would do it, in the sitting room. Every night? Every night…the students, when the drummer came round… the students… would have their dawn meal… and they would lay food out for the mid-night meal, and people would come and eat things like cornflour pudding and meat porridge. No one went to bed in Ramadan, everyone stayed up? No, no, everyone stayed up until morning… when the morning call to prayer came, that was it, they went to bed… sleeping all morning, then they’d come back at noon, relaxed, while the women worked. In the old days all us kids would play and have fun in Ramadan… now there’s none of that! Staying up, they’d pay each other visits… they don’t do that now. Now nobody goes. At all! This person would visit that one, and that one would hold the midnight meal at his house, and tomorrow it would be my turn, and
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chapter five then someone else’s turn the day after… every day at a different person’s house. Each day it would be the turn of— Every day in turns, they called it ‘turns’. Now, when they’ve broken their fast, they just go to sleep like they were dead or ill! Now people are lazier! In the old days they cooked on a wood stove. In the old days, because there was no electric light, there was nothing, they always went outside, they spent their nights outside. There were kerosene lamps. Now there are air-conditioners, they hide away in their houses! By God, every age has its good sides. Yes, true. No season should be ashamed of itself… the summer is nice when it’s summer, and the winter’s nice when it’s winter… every era is alright at the time… Praise be to God! We saw the past and we’ve seen the present. May God give you a long life!
Domestic life in vernacular poetry: all¸h yi¯¸zºk y¸ zam¸n ‘God punish you, o time!’ The Bahraini poet {Abdurra¥m¸n Rafº{, born in1936 in Man¸ma, from the {Arab community and by profession a schoolmaster, became famous throughout the Gulf in the 1960s and 70s for his humorous, often satirical vernacular poems162, published in several collections, the best-known being QaRAQid ShaPbiyya (‘Popular Odes’) (1970). Many of the poems, such as AyyAm zamAn (‘The Old Days’) are concerned with Gulf domestic life and the changes that were beginning to take place as a result of increased oil-wealth163. One of his most well known poems is allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! (lit ‘God punish you, o time!). On the surface, it is a long complaint about the fancy, expensive ways of the modern world, with a refrain of complaint about rising prices (echoed by one woman interviewed in the course of this research, who called them Baww HarIGa ‘a raging fire’). But at the end, the poet seems to accept that the old times have gone for good. The general sentiments expressed are similar to those frequently expressed by the generation of Bahrainis who were interviewed for this research. A couple of extracts from this long poem are reproduced here, liberally translated. 162 His poem on the expense of getting married, iz-zawAG il-Padil has already been mentioned in the chapter on Marriage, n. 2. 163 By 1976, Man¸ma had become one of the most expensive cities in the world to live in.
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allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! ‘God punish you, o time!’ allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn, mA lik amAn164 iS-SiPri165... ir-rubPa vb TamAn!166 allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn
God punish you o time! To trust in you: a crime! Four pounds of SiPri’s eight rupees— God punish you, o time!
gAlaw lI: mA fI blAdna ha-l-ayyAm fagIr iS-Sirb bElar167 wi s-sawAHli168 RAr HarIr w aHsan dyAy rAyiH u yAy w ahl il-barastiyya iJtanaw friSaw nahAli w vHrigaw DAk il-HaRIr id-dinya JEr w in-nAs fi xEr
They told me: ‘In this land of ours, These days, there’s none who lack. The water’s sweet as nectar, and — Our clothes are silk, not sack. The choicest type of tasty fowl Is there for all to eat; The palm-hut folk’re rich now: look! Carpets beneath their feet! They’ve burnt that tattered ancient mat … This world has changed a lot, See, everyone’s in clover now, (And worries? Not a jot!)
gilt: yimkin in-nAs yiRadgUn hADi yihUn killvh yihUn bass illi mub fi muxxi dASS iS-SiPri, lES iS-SiPri ir-rubPa vb TamAn? allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! (***************************)
‘If that’s what people think’, I said, That’s absolutely fine; No problem with that thought…but hey! What never crossed my mind: Four pounds of SiPri… eight rupees?! God punish you o time! God punish you o time!
sUg is-simiC matrUs rayAyIl u HarIm w allah karIm... xErAt baHarna mA liha Pidd169 kil wAHid vb DAlik Sahid
The fish market is choc-a-bloc With men, and women too… Dear God, you bless us generously With bounties from the blue. To that we all bear witness but —
164
Lit ‘you can’t be relied on’. A common, cheap type of fish of the snapper-bream family, usually caught in traps rather than nets. 166 i.e. eight rupees = 800 fils. 167 < Eng boiler. Sweet water, formerly sold from pannier tanks by itinerant water sellers (rAPi l-kandar) and then from motorised tankers. 168 Type of rough cloth. Cf Baghdadi xAm sawAHil rough, unbleached cotton cloth (W&B 215). 169 A deliberate play on words by the A poet, at the expense of the B community. As it stands, the line can be read two ways: ‘there are no limits to the bounties of our sea’ (xErAt baHarna), or as ‘there are no limits to the bounties of the Ba¥¸rna’, baHArna being pronounced almost identically to baHarna. This is an apposite pun, since the Ba¥¸rna fisherman at the time had a monopoly over the sale of fish in the market. In later printings of the poem, this line has been changed to xErAt blAdna... ‘the bounties of our country…’. 165
240 w ihnAk PayUz SAyla GifIr bAyin PalEha marat fagIr170 “yA xAla lES mA tiStirIn? kil is-simiC zEn u simIn.” gAlat: “yA wildi S-AStari? allAh yiPIn il-mislimIn! iR-RAfi yiJla, mA PalEh il-CanPad yiJla, mA PalEh l-izbEdi172 yiJla, mA PalEh iS-SiPri... ir-rubPa vb TamAn?! allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn!” Pindi axu Pugb it-taPab RAr Pindvh mAl, iSwayya mAl gAlaw: “taPAl!” dazzOh Pala173 bint il-HalAl w il-bEt kubar yAbO lih bass darzan yihAl! lES yA fagIr?! Danbik xaVIr gAl: “il-gaBa... Say mA baJEtvh w istuwa!” marrat PalEh isnIn PiDAb yOmEn simiC, usbUP Padas lEn mA yibas!174 w il-yOm iDa marrEt PalEh tilgAh yiRaffig lik b IdEh w igUl, wi kil wAHid igUl allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! iS-SiPri, ir-rubPa vb TamAn! ams zArni RAHib RidIG yIrAnna min ahl il-firIG git lih: “taPaSSa Pindna, il-yOm simiC VAbxIn li hal175!”
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chapter five There’s one old crone stands by, An empty basket on her head, ‘Why don’t you buy?’ say I, ‘The fish look good and big and fat!’ ‘What can I buy?!’ says she. ‘God help poor Muslims in these times! When SiPri’s eight rupees!171 If RAfi’s dear, well never mind! If CanPad’s dear, no crime! zbEdi’s dear? I couldn’t care! God punish you o time! God punish you o time!’ Me, I’ve got a brother who Had saved a bit of bread And after all this effort, his Folks told him ‘Time to wed!’ They wed him to a decent girl, And kids—they had a lot: A dozen at the last count…! Why? Afford it they could not! That really was an awful sin ‘It’s fate’, he said, ‘’s to blame, ‘’Twere nowt to do with me!’ but still He suffered years of pain! For two days he’d eat fish but then, A week of lentil gruel… To look at him, with cheeks so thin (You felt you’re being cruel!) These days, if you drop in on him, He’ll wring his hands and whine, And say the same as we all say, That oft-repeated line: ‘Four pound of SiPri—eight rupees? ‘God punish you o time!’ An neighbour dropped in yesterday A friend from down the street I said to him ‘Have lunch with us! It’s fish, and cooked a treat!’
Lit ‘Looking like a poor man’s wife’. The order of the lines has been slightly changed in the translation to fit the rhyme scheme. 172 RAfi, a fish of bream-snapper group (the commonest type is rabbitfish), CanPad king mackerel, zbEdi Malabar jack are more expensive types of fish. 173 Lit ‘they pushed him in with…’, referring to what happens in the farSa ‘wedding chamber’ on the lElat id-daSSa ‘the night of consummation’. 174 Here ‘to wither, dry up’. 175 Lit ‘for family’. 171
domestic life Raffag u gAl: “fOg in-naxal! hAtvh, u xannA ndigg PalEh!” sAPa gaPad yifrik IdEh
He clapped his hands: ‘That’s brilliant! Let’s dig in now!’ he said, He rubbed his hands an hour in glee, Expecting to be fed!
yibt iS-SuJil... Cam ismiCa, u Rurrat bagil gilt: “yA l-axu, PAd lA tlUm, Axir iS-Sahar, Pizzik yidUm! S-insawwi fi Axir zamAn176? iS-SiPri, ir-rubPa vb TamAn! allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn! allAh yiGAzIk yA zamAn!
All nicely cooked, I brought it in: Some greens, some little fish, And said to him shamefacedly, ‘That’s it! May you flourish! It’s end of month—what can I do?! Except repeat the rhyme: “Four pounds of SiPri eight rupees?! God punish you o time!”’
id-dinya timba mdawwara iPyAl u rayyAl u mara w in-nAs malAyIn yirkuBUn w il-xAsir illi tamm wara! mA tismaP id-dIC illi yiRIH w igUl, wi kil gOlvh RaHIH “inVamm177 u xall ROb il-HaCi! mub bi l-HaCi in-nAs tistarIH!
This world is just one big round ball, With husbands, wives, and kids, And millions running to keep up: Drop back? You’re on the skids! Can’t you hear that crowing cock? He’s telling us what’s what: ‘Pipe down and leave the talking out! Words won’t improve your lot!’
gUm, yA l-axu... fattiH, tara iS-Sams vVlaPat wi ayyAm iz-zamAn itJayyarat SiPri178 xarAbIV mA yifId insAn zamAnna l-yOm HadId! gUm, yA l-axu... xUB il-baHar w irkab Pala BlUP il-xaVar yimkin mayAdIrik tiRId180
So come on, brother, on your feet! The sun’s come up! Look! See! The old days now have gone for good— These lines? Inanity! For men today are tough as steel179, So rise, plunge in the sea! Surmount the perils of the times Perchance, you’ll catch SiPri!!
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Lit ‘in these recent times’. inVamm or inVabb, throughout the Gulf = ‘shut up!’ 178 A pun: SiPri ‘my poetry’ or the name of the cheap fish whose price has risen. 179 Lit ‘iron’. 180 The last two lines also involve a pun. BilP, pl BlUP can mean several things: (a) one of the ‘ribs’ of a plank-built boat (the normal local term is SilmAn); (b) a hill or high point. In the case of (a) the reference might be to a wrecked boat which has capsized (= ‘the old times’?), and onto the top of whose ‘ribs of danger’ a shipwrecked man clambers for survival; in the case of (b), the reference might be to the commonplace vernacular poetic trope of climbing a hill (= ‘modern times’?) to gain a commanding view, here, perhaps, of the future. But there is a third possibility: BilP is also the name of a small fish of the snapper-bream group, not much bigger than a sardine, smaller than a SiPri. The final two lines could thus also mean: ‘Why don’t you climb on the back of these dangerous little BlUP-fish, and perhaps you might catch some!’ in which the poet is perhaps making light of the ‘dangers’ of modern life, as his ‘man of steel’ plunges into the waves of uncertainty. It is unclear which of these three meanings is intended, or whether perhaps all three are. 177
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CHAPTER SIX
CHILDHOOD The texts in this chapter cover the following topics: children’s customs associated with the Muslim year; education at the Koran school; children’s games and pastimes; adults’ attitudes to children; children’s life at home and at work. {›d al-}A¤¥¸: Ýiyya Biyya—a children’s ‘sacrifice’ ritual1 At the time of the field-work for this book, Hiyya biyya, as a popular Bahraini ritual, was falling into desuetude, but it was still recalled by women then in their 40’s and 50’s, and has recently been revived as part of a conscious national effort to preserve popular national heritage. This ritual was performed over the first ten days of Dh¢ }l-Ýijja. Young girls planted seeds (Habb) or pulses (mAS) in small pots made of palm fibres (guffa, pl gufIf ), or any other suitable small potshaped container, filling them with earth, and watering them regularly. The seeds or beans would rapidly germinate, and by the time of the {›d, there would be a rich green growth in the plant pots. On the night before the {›d (lElat il-PId), the girls of the neighbourhood would walk in procession, followed by their brothers and other boys, down to the sea-shore, or, if they lived inland, to the well of Ýn¹niyya near Ar-Rif¸{ Ash-Shargº which is roughly in the centre of Bahrain Island, or, among Ba¥¸rna farming communities, to an irrigation channel (sAb). There they would whirl the plant pots, suspended by a length of palm-rope, around their heads, singing a ditty as they did so, and fling them into the sea, well, or water channel as the case might be. A key element in the ritual was that the pot had to be thrown into water. The girls would then return home. I reproduce below verbatim a couple of descriptions given by the middle-aged Bahraini women. Text 1: Speaker 1: al-Ýidd (m1/45) Speaker 1 is from the {Arab community, aged about 50. S is her educated niece, aged about 20, also from al-Ýidd. S-1
1
zEn, al-HIn baJEt asQaliC Pan il-aPyAd gabil u S-kintu... yaPni gabil la iyi l-PId il-yihAl yisawwUn Say
Much of the material on Ýiyya Biyya first appeared in HIB.
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E, yisawwUn Hiyya biyya gabil la... yaPni min awwal PId il-aBHa, yibtidi S-Sahar, zirPaw lEhum il-Hiyya biyya Hiyya biyya hAy Sinhu yaPni ? yAxDUn lihum gawAVi ananAs aw maTal HfErAt RJeyrAt u yisawwUn... yiHuVVUn iR-ROn 2 wiyya Habb aw SPEr aw yaPni ay Say u yiHuVVUnah yiPalgUnah, kil yOm yaPVUnah mAy yasgUnah yasgUnah lEn miTil yat il-PId, rAHaw l-iRbayAn tyAmaPaw, rAHaw Pala s-sIf u giPdaw “Hiyya biyya, Hiyya biyya”. lEn iPyizaw 3, gaVVOhum fi l-baHar u yaw il-bEt farHAnIn. iRbaHaw iR-RibH, illi itsabbaH u illi itzabbar4 u irUHUn yiPAydUn yaPni hAy l-Hiyya biyya yiguVVUnha gabil il-PId bi yOm ? lElat il-PId, E.
Text 1: translation S-1 S1-1
S-2 S1-2
S-3 S1-3
S-4
Right, I’d like to ask you about the {›ds in the old days and what you… I mean, before the {›d came, the children used to do something. Yes, they would do Hiyya biyya before the… I mean before the {›d al-}A¤¥¸, when the month was beginning, the planted their Hiyya biyya. This Hiyya biyya, what was it? They would get (empty) pineapple tins or like little (planting) holes, and they would make… they would put donkey manure in with seed, or barley or, I mean, anything, and they would put it, they would hang it up, every day they would give it water. They would water it. They would water it until the {›d came. The boys went and assembled, and they (all) went down to the seashore and kept on (saying) “Hiyya biyya, Hiyya biyya”. When they could do it no more, they threw them (= the pots) into the sea and came home happy. They got up the next morning, and there would be some who would take a bath, and others who would spruce themselves up, and they would go {›d-visiting. You mean they would throw this Hiyya biyya into the sea the day before the {›d?
ROn in southern Iraq and the Gulf generally means ‘dung, droppings’ of riding animals. Cf H&B 515 ROl with the same meaning, for Egypt. 3 < iPGizaw. 4 HAN 158 notes zabbar for Baghdad as meaning ‘to trim, prune’ the branches of a tree. itsabbaH < iytsabbaH, itzabbar < iytzabbar. 2
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The night before, yes.
Text 2: Speaker 10: Ar-Rif¸{ Ash-Shargº (m1/51) Speaker 10 is aged about 50, from the {Arab community. S is a teacher, also from the A community: S-1 S10-1 S-2 S10-2
zEn, asma, S-kAn 5 isawwUn fi PId il-aBHa, gabil il-PId u TAni l-PId, S-isawwUn yOm il-PId? Hiyya biyya SlOn yaPni Hiyya biyya, mita tsawwUnah? yizirPUnha yaPni CiDi gab— CiDi PaSrat ayyAm yizirPUnah u yisgUnha, nasgIha, nizraPha nasgIha. yOm ikbarat, RArat yaPni iHlEwa, faSfaSat6, kil wAHid yitqAran iT-TAni “S-kubur HiyyatiC ?”—gAlat S-ismah, ha-l-kubur, lE Qadda lElat il-PId, nguVVha fi l-baHar.
Text 2: translation S-1
S10-1 S-2 S10-2
So, Asma, what did they used to do in {›d al-}A¤¥¸, before the {›d, the second of the (two) {›ds, what did they do on the day of the {›d? Hiyya biyya. What was Hiyya biyya, when did you do it? They would plant it like, before—like ten days (before) they’d plant it and water it... we’d water it, we’d plant it and water it. When it grew big and strong, flourished, every one would compare with each other: ‘how big is your Hiyya?’ And (the girl asked) would say ‘this big’, until the night before the {›d came, and we’d throw it in the sea.
Both these speakers were from the {Arab community, but similar descriptions were given by Ba¥¸rna women. The usual local explanation of this ritual (gAnUn)—though given by educated people, not by those who described it— was that it was a children’s mimicking of the feeding, and eventual ritual slaughter of a sacrificial beast (DabIHa), usually a sheep, at the conclusion
5 It is not uncommon in the Gulf dialects for auxiliary verbs to be singular when the main verb is plural, or for verbs that govern others in object clauses to be singular when the governed verb is plural. 6 faSfaS ‘to flourish’. Cf CLA (L 2400 faSSa l-qawm ‘the people became fat (after leanness)’).
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of the rites of the pilgrimage to Mecca. Shaml¸n7 describes a similar ritual for Kuwait. His explanation of the meaning of Hiyya is that it is the result of the sound change G → y which occurs all down the Gulf littoral, and thus in his view Hiyya is to be identified with Classical Arabic HiGGa ‘pilgrimage’. However, the speaker in the second Bahraini text above seems to be referring quite clearly to the plant as the Hiyya. Moreover, the words of the Kuwaiti rhyme which Shaml¸n says was sung by the young girls as they twirled their Hiyyas around their heads also seem to be at variance with his at first sight plausible etymology: yA Hiyyati yA biyyati Hiyya li ummi, Hiyya li abUyi sabaP HiyyAt.
‘O my Hiyya, O my biyya, A Hiyya for my mother, A Hiyya for my father, Seven Hiyyas’.
One can plausibly make a connection between the reference to ‘seven Hiyyas’ and the seven-fold circumambulation of the kaPba which is one of the main rituals of the pilgrimage. But HiGGa means ‘pilgrimage’ not ‘circumambulation’, and why should there be ‘one pilgrimage for my mother’, and ‘one for my father’? And what could the interpretation of the first two lines be? The ditty is difficult to make sense of if it is simply assumed that Hiyya is simply CLA HiGGa via G → y. There are alternative possibilities. Landberg8 notes that throughout southern Arabia, HiGGa, very often pronounced Hiyya, means ‘thing, object, matter’. This, as we shall see below, would make more sense in the ditty, but unfortunately HiGGa/ Hiyya with ‘thing, object’ as its meaning has not been recorded in Bahrain or anywhere else on the Gulf littoral as far as I am aware. Dickson9 notes that in Kuwait, the phrase PId iB-BaHiyya ‘festival of the sacrifice’ is used to refer to the festival at the end of Dh¢ }l-Ýijja. Could Hiyya then be some kind of abbreviated form of BaHiyya? In Bahrain, in support of this speculation, the following variants of the rhyme were noted: From a Ba¥¸rna woman aged about 30 (Speaker 34) from the R¸s Rumm¸n quarter of Man¸ma (m2/5), who called the plant grown not Hiyya but, similarly to what Dickson notes, BiHiyya: yA BiHiyyati l-maPmUra yA umm is-salAsil, wi d-dahab wi n-nUra
7
‘O my cultivated sacrifice, O mother of chains, gold, and lime’ (?)10
SHAM 238-9. GLOS 355-6 9 DICK 596. 10 The translation here is questionable. Similar lines to these occur in the Kuwaiti (HAN 8
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The Bahraini folklorist Al-{Urayfi11 notes the following variant: Hiyya biyya Pala darbiyya l-iHnEniyya yA Hiyyati, yA biyyati Hiyya li abUy Hiyya li ummi
‘Hiyya biyya on the road to Ýn¹niyya O my Hiyya, o my biyya A Hiyya for my father, a Hiyya for my mother.’
Al-{Urayfi’s brief description accords with the Bahraini women’s accounts of the practice which I recorded, except that he says the children throw HiyyAt into the air either on sea-shore or in the barAH (or barAHa), an open space which was a traditional feature of the village and urban neighbourhood, used for social gatherings and children’s play. Both boys and girls are shown in the original photograph he provides12. In the Bahrain National Museum’s displays on local culture, a tableau depicts the Hiyya biyya ceremony at the seashore, and a written version of the rhyme is given in the following form, addressed to the plant (my translation): Hiyya biyya, rAHat Hiyya wa yAt biyya Pala darb l-iHnEniyya PaSSEnAk u JaddEnAk wa lElat il-PId lA tiddaPIn Palayya HallilIna w ibray Dimmati maPa s-salAma, yA Hiyyati!
‘Hiyya biyya A Hiyya has gone, and brought me back On the path of Ýn¹niyya. We fed you lunch and fed you dinner, So on the night before the {›d, don’t make accusations against me! Absolve me and exonerate me! Good-bye, my Hiyya!
In other words, by sacrificing the plant the sacrificer will be absolved from sin, guilt, or blame. What alternative explanations might there be for this custom? Rituals observed in neighbouring areas, described in the anthropological literature, provide some possible clues. The following description of the ‘gardens of Adonis’ occurs in Drower’s account of the ancient use of food as a ritual idiom in the Middle East13:
312), and southern Iraqi (DAL 41-42) versions of the ‘Trick or Treat’ ditty (see below) sung by children during Ramadan, but in the ‘Trick or Treat’ ditty these three things are predicated of Mecca: yA makka yA maPmUra, yA imm is-salAsil wa D-Dahab wa n-nUra which Dalishi explains as indicating that Mecca is the city possessed of ‘gold chains’ and the one that ‘gives light’, without further elucidation. However, nUra does not usually mean ‘light’ in the Gulf dialects (or CLA): as well as being a common female name in the region, it normally means ‘quicklime’. 11 UR (I) 83. 12 Apparently taken in the 1950s or 60s, and reproduced as Plate 1 in my article referred to above in n. 1. 13 WW 41.
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‘In the countries bordering the Mediterranean the Adonis-cult inspired the making of ‘gardens of Adonis’, grain forced into temporary growth in receptacles which were later thrown into the sea or river together with images of the god, at the season when women lamented the ‘youth untimely slain’, a season which also commemorated his yearly revival. When I was in Sicily many years ago, I saw in the churches during Holy Week beds of sand, sometimes coloured, upon which were set pots of wheat forced into pale growth by being grown in cellars. These were called sepolcri and on Holy Thursday the figure of Christ was lifted from the crucifix and laid upon them.’
Frazer, in his description of the Adonis ritual, which he states originated in western Asia, claims that it is ‘the best proof that Adonis was a deity of vegetation’, noting that the sowing of wheat, barley, lettuces, flowers, etc in baskets filled with earth was ‘chiefly or exclusively the preserve of women’14. He interprets the ritual as charms to promote the growth or revival of vegetation by a process of homoeopathic or imitative magic: by mimicking the growth of crops, the women hope to ensure a good harvest, and by throwing the dead ‘gardens of Adonis’ into water, they hope to secure a supply of fertilising rain. Coming closer geographically to the Gulf, and nearer in recorded history, Lauterbach, in a lengthy essay on the practice and origins of the Jewish custom of Tashlik, describes one version of it as follows, based on Rashi’s (11th century) commentary on the Babylonian Talmud:15 ‘About two or three weeks before Rosh Hashanah they make baskets from the leaves of the palm-tree and fill them with earth and manure. For every young boy or girl in the house they make such a basket into which they sow Egyptian beans, or other kinds of beans or peas. They call it “propitio”. On the day before New Year’s each person takes his or her basket, turns it around his or her head seven times, saying: “This is for this (evidently pointing to the basket and to himself or herself), this is to be in exchange for me, this is to be my substitute”, and then he or she throws the basket into the river.’
This passage could pass for a description of the Gulf custom of Hiyya biyya as described by my late 20th century Bahraini informants. The timing of the custom—the end of one calendar year and the beginning of the next—is the same. The details of what is grown, who grows it, what is done with it, and where, are virtually identical. Last but not least, the sentiments expressed in the rhyme are uncannily similar to the most likely explanation of what Hiyya biyya means in the Bahraini and Kuwaiti ditties given above: the sacrificial plant (Hiyya) which is thrown into water is ‘instead of me’ or ‘for me’ (biyya)16.
14
GB 337. RE 370. 16 There are some linguistic problems with this interpretation of biyya. In contemporary spoken Bahraini, I recorded only bI ‘for, by me’ < bi + 1 st person pronoun, and this seems to 15
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The seven-fold twirling of the baskets echoes the sabaP HiyyAt of the Kuwaiti rhyme given earlier. The popular Hebrew name for this custom, which Lauterbach regards as a ‘poor person’s’ version of Kapparot, ‘atonement’, is farfisa, a corruption, according to him, of Latin propitio 17—signifying a sacrifice to appease the Devil, who was believed to reside in water. Lauterbach gives a lengthy description of how this custom arose and evolved over the centuries as an element of Judaic lore, observing that it must go back at least as far as the time of the Talmudic commentator Abaye (280-338 AD) who comments on it. On the face of it, it appears that Gulf Islamic Hiyya biyya, like Babylonian Jewish farfisa and Sicilian Christian sepolcri, may ultimately have its origin in the Adonis ‘death and rebirth’ ritual that arose in western Asia. In particular, the requirement that the Hiyya be thrown into water is difficult to explain if the ritual is really a children’s mimicking of the sacrifice ritual of Islam, as local opinion would suggest. The striking similarity of Hiyya biyya, in this regard, with the Mesopotamian Jewish farfisa is suggestive of a common origin. Just as the mediaeval and pre-mediaeval Jewish and Christian versions of the ritual may have had their origins in the pagan Adonis cult, so the modern Gulf version may represent a later, popularised appropriation by Islam of an ancient practice that existed in the Gulf long before the coming of that religion. As I have pointed out elsewhere, the contemporary Arabic dialects of the Gulf coast contain a small substrate of apparently non-Arabic words and expressions in the realm of material culture which, I have proposed elsewhere, may be the vestiges of Semitic languages which were in use in the area before Arabic became the lingua franca18. The Gulf coast has been for millennia a cultural melting pot, and it should come as no surprise that an apparently ancient east Mediterranean/ Mesopotamian ritual symbolising death and rebirth should also turn up there, given the cultural and trading contacts which, in
be the norm throughout the Gulf (EADS 66). In the dialects of neighbouring areas, biyya seems to be the regular form only in Muslim Baghdadi (BLA 121). However, in Bahrain, suffixed prepositional forms analogous to biyya, such as fiyya, liyya do occur, and the ‘for, in return for’ sense suggested by the line is certainly one of the senses in which bi is used in Bahrain. It may be that the extra -ya syllable is merely for the rhyme (as with similar variants in Classical Arabic poetry), but, on that basis, yA biyyati, in the versions of the ditty quoted above by Shaml¸n for Kuwait and al-‘Urayfi for Bahrain, in which biyya is treated as a noun, is difficult to explain—perhaps biyyati is no more than a nonsense rhyme. 17 RE 372. 18 See POT 221, 223-4, 227-8, 244-5 for a sketch of the complex ethno-linguistic situation in eastern Arabia before the coming of Islam. See Vol I xxii-xxx of this study, and especially SEM for examples of non-Arabic, but Semitic (Akkadian, Aramaic) lexical elements that occur in the eastern Arabian Arabic dialects. Further research is required on the origin of a number of other words.
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ancient times, tied these areas closely together19. As far as I am aware, both Hiyya biyya and the ‘trick-or-treat’ Ramadan customs of gargaPUn/ grEgSUn (see below) are confined to the urban and sedentarised village communities of the Gulf littoral and southern Iraq, and are unknown in the heartland of Arabia20.
19
POT 353-4. In the last few years, Hiyya biyya has made something of a comeback in the Gulf States. With the realisation that much of the pre-oil local culture has been lost, has come a desire to preserve what is left and even recreate some of it in a ‘Disneyfied’ form—hence the sections of national museums devoted to wax-works and simulacra of the daily round and neighbourhood customs of 50 years ago, the sea-faring and pearling ‘heritage’ industry, and, most of all, the succession of highly popular television series which exploit the current nostalgia for a by-gone age in which life is depicted as more neighbourly, slower-paced and altogether more fun. When flying to Bahrain in September 1998, I came across an article on Hiyya biyya in the Arabic section of the Gulf Air in-flight magazine written by one Amina al-Zayn, under the general heading mawrUTAt SaPbiyya ‘popular heritage’. In it the ritual is described in detail, with colour photographs of little girls dressed in full national costume performing it in what appears to be a TV film-set (see Plate 2 in the article referred to in n.1). The ritual is described in much the same terms I recorded in the 1970s, including the requirement that the Hiyya must be thrown into the sea, or into a well, or into a water channel. The author states that ‘some of the common people’ (baPB al-PAmma) believe it to have arisen when pearl-diving was the main means of earning one’s living in the Gulf, and that the Hiyya was indeed an ‘offering’ (as in the Jewish Babylonian version of the custom), though here made to the sea to guarantee the return of the pearl-divers from what was always a very hazardous occupation: kAna bi maTAbat Rafqat salAm mA bayna l-aVfAl wa l-baHr bi taqdIm sallat xaBrAQ ilayhi li BamAn QirjAPihi li DawIhim bi salAm min riHlat al-JawR al-maHfUfa bi l-maxAVir ‘it was a kind of ‘peace agreement’ between the children and the sea by means of the presentation of a basket of greens to it in order to guarantee that it would return their kin to them unharmed from the perilous pearl-diving voyage’. The throwing of the Hiyya into a well or irrigation channel, which was what the non-pearl-diving inland communities did, is left unexplained. The magazine account provides a further detail of the ritual, which also features in the Bahrain Museum’s display on the subject, but which I did not record during field-work: the girls who processed down to water to hurl their HiyyAt into it were sometimes provided by their mothers with painted eggs to eat on the journey, in a custom reminiscent of Christian Easter. However, at the end of the magazine article, the idea that the ritual was in any way a ‘propitiation’ ceremony is dismissed, and the standard explanation is once again put forward that Hiyya biyya is a children’s mimicking of the Islamic sacrifice ritual, the involvement of the sea being apparently explained by the fact that the pilgrims formerly had to cross the sea to get to Mecca. This explanation fits conveniently with religious orthodoxy, but the comparative evidence suggests that the custom, like many others that have been taken over by organised religion, is much older. Hiyya Biyya looks like a death-rebirth and a devilpropitiation ritual rolled into one, which, over time, has been given a ‘respectable’ Islamic patina. 20
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chapter six Rama¤¸n: Garga{¢n / Gr¹g±¡n—a Gulf version of ‘trick or treat’
At the halfway point in Rama¤¸n, when the moon was full, Bahraini children performed another ritual that was known as gargaPUn/ girgiPOn/ gargiPU (A communities) or grEgSOn (B). It is also called nARfa ‘half’ in the B communities, the verb being nARaf, in reference to its occurrence halfway through the fasting month. The description given here is of the practice as carried out in Bahrain in the 1950s and 60s, although it appears to have been very widespread in the Gulf, differing slightly from one area to another21. Children went from house to house carrying special cloth bags (xarIVa pl xarAyiV) around their necks, banging and clattering on drums, tin-cans and almost anything else which came to hand and hammering on doors and demanding, in a rhyme, a ‘treat’—traditionally given in the form of mixed monkey nuts (zagg is-sIbAl 22), peanuts (sinbil), almonds (lOz), salted nuts (GOz), chick-peas (naxxaG/ naxxay), bagged sweets (CaklEt) and candies (nugul/ ngil)— to put in their bags, failing which they threatened the offending house, in another rhyme, with dire consequences. The procession proceeded from house to house by moonlight (gumari) or by the lights of lanterns (fanar, pl fnAra) if the moon was obscured. There was always much noise—gargaP and gargaS are onomatopoeic verbs which mean, respectively, ‘to clatter, bang’ and ‘to rattle’23 as well as, by synecdoche, ‘to go trick-or-treating’. The following are verbatim accounts of the custom:
21 SMT catalogues the various usages, different names, and ditties associated with it in Oman, Kuwait, UAE, southern Iraq, Qatar and Bahrain. In Oman, the practice is known as garangaSOh, in Kuwait girgayPAn, southern Iraq gargIPAn, the UAE and Qatar garangaPU. 22 Lit ‘monkey shit’. 23 The verbs are possibly secondary developments of q-r-P and q-r-S. See QUV 104-5. The {Arab term gargaPUn is the generic name given to the mixture of nuts and candies given to the children, the verbal noun being gargaPa. As for the Ba¥¸rna grEgSOn: if verbal noun is what this is, it is a unique form. Dialectal verbal nouns in BA in -An are not uncommon, but only in hollow verbs, e.g. SayalAn ‘removal, carrying’ dawarAn ‘revolving’, fawaHAn ‘cooking’, but no verbal nouns in -Un or -On seem to exist. The few other nouns ending in -Un(a) in the Gulf dialects are all diminutives/ hypocoristics—SwayyUna, rIHUna, tiSSUna, HabbUna all meaning ‘a little bit’, RJayrUn ‘small, unimportant’, and in some personal names such as ÝamdUn—and all probably of Aramaic origin (cf BLA 74, and MAS 72). As among the A community, DAL 40ff considers the Iraqi version of one of the terms, gargiPAn, to be the name of the nuts, candies, chick-peas and other small comestibles that the revellers collect from their victims, rather than the noise they make while doing so, and in his view grEgSOn is the ‘cracking’ noise made by the consumers’ teeth as they eat the gargiPAn.
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Text 3: Speaker 1: al-Ýidd (m1/45) The speakers are the same as those in text 1. S1-1
min in-nuRR min ramaFAn, yiStirUn il-girgiPOn ubuhAthum... axyAS! is-sinbil, wi n-nugul, wi n-naxxay, wi l-HalAwa... u yiHuVVUnah... lEn taPaSSaw il-Parab24 l-iRbayAn yaw... gargaPaw: “girgiPOn, PaVUna min mAlkum sallim allah PiyAlkum PaVUna ha-n-nOba minna PasAkum iddiSSUn il-Ganna”
S-1 S1-2 S-2 S1-3
u nAxiD lEhum bi V-VAsa u nHUVV lihum, msawwIn lihum aCyAs min xalAgIn f irgubattum25... u naPVIhum, yitirsUnah, min bEt li bEt, min bEt li bEt... mA iyUn nuRR il-lEl illa kil wAHid SAHin lih xESa, u yiHuVVUnah lihum Pala VUl il-ayyAm, yAklUn fIh zEn, u mA fIh yaPni Hiyya biyya miTil PId l-aBHa? lA, bass hAda hwa, il-gargaPa yisammUnah, il-gargaPa... il-arbaPtvPaS, w il-xamstvPaS fi n-nuRR min ramaFAn fi n-nuRR min ramaFAn... u iyUniC baPad iRbayAn ikbAr, u yisawwUn baPad Vagg, yiViggUn... u isawwUn baPad hADi— frEsa26... yisawwUn kil Say... kil bEt baPad illi yimiddUn PalEhum, miTil dInAr, PaSar, miTil arbaP rubbiyAt, kil bEt Pala magdUrah, yaPVUnvh l-iRbayAn l-ikbAr, mA yAxDUn gargaPUn... min bidAl Vagghum, yAxDUn bEzAt... u hADa vhummv lE lElat sittaPSar yibandUn
Text 3: translation S1-1
From the middle of Ramadan, their fathers buy girgiPOn…bags of it!— peanuts, salted nuts and candies, chick-peas, sweets—and they put it (aside)… When the men had eaten their dinner, the lads came and… went trick-or-treating: ‘girgiPOn, give us some of your money, And may God protect your children.
24 This word is used among the A community, particularly in Mu¥arraq and al-Ýidd, to mean simply ‘men’. 25 < irgubathum. 26 The hobbyhorse, frEsa, was also formerly a common sight at {›d celebrations.
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Give us a present this time, And thereby you may go to heaven!’
And we would take them some in a small bowl and give it to them… they had made bags for themselves out of cloth, round their necks. We would give them, and they’d fill (the bag), going from house to house, from house to house… and at midnight they always returned with each one of them having filled up his sack. They’d put it aside for themselves, and eat it over the following days. Right. There wasn’t Hiyya biyya like there was for {›d al-}A¤¥¸? No, there was just this, ‘trick-or-treating’ they call it, ‘trick-ortreating’, on the fourteenth and fifteenth. Half way through Ramadan. Half way through Ramadan. And also the bigger boys would come to you, and drum… they would drum… and they would make hobbyhorses… they’d do everything… Every house would offer them something, a dinar, ten, four rupees—every house according to its means, they would give the big boys (money), they wouldn’t accept gargaPUn… in return for their drumming, they took money… And they did this until the night of the fifteenth, and then they stopped.
S-1 S1-2 S-2 S1-3
Text 4: Speaker 10: Ar-Rif¸{ Ash-Shargº (m1/51) The speakers are the same as in Text 2 S-1 S10-1 S-2 S10-2
27
zEn, fi rmaBAn fIh... nAs yisawwUn gargaPUn... SlOn yisawwUn gargaPUn? il-gargaPU? bi n-nuRR fi rmaBAn ngargiP, yigargiPUn... nagPad yaPni ngargiP fi l-lEl, u fi n-nahAr, yaPVunna— S-itgUlUn fi l-gargaPa? gUli lEna magVaP min l-vqniyya illi tiqannUnha— “O gargaPUn PAdat PalEkum, O yA R-RiyyAm [********]27 O rmaBAn yAllah, yAllah, yAllah
Inaudible.
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S-3 S10-3
S-4 S10-4
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yaslam PalEhum waladhum28 waladhum, yA l-HabAb wi sEfah yirgaP29 il-bAb sint il-Jala30 mu RAkkih walla Rakkat tawwAbih31 tawwAbih, tawwAbih gargaPUn, garangiPU PaVUna, allah yaPVIkum bEt makka yiwaddIkum PaVUna min mAl allah isallim lEkum abdallah gargaPUn, garangiPU zEn, hAy l-gargaPU hAy l-gargaPU... w ila mA PaVOna, gilna “PaVUna, Sismah, naxxay u zibIb32”.. CAn mA PaVOna, ngUl “knAr, PasAkum in-nAr33, ndaPPi PalEhum iDa yiValPUn wilA PaVOkum, tidaPPUn PalEhum? iDa mA PaVOna, naHtarr34...nVigg PiyAlhum baPad!
Text 4: translation S-1 S10-1
In Ramadan, there were people who went ‘trick-or-treating’… how did they do that? ‘Trick-or-treat’? Half way through Ramadan we would go
28 The reference is to the son of the house outside which the song is sung, who is named in the penultimate line, here ‘Abdallah’ as an example. 29 rigaP‘to hit, strike’. 30 That is, even if this year is one of high prices, that should not close the door of the house to the ‘trick-or-treaters’—they should be generous and give anyway. 31 This line was difficult to hear on the tape and may be incorrectly transcribed. I take tawwAbih to be the pl of tawwAb which is one of the dialectal pl patterns associated with this form. 32 In Bahrain, zibIb is ‘cheap dry dates’ rather than ‘raisins’ or ‘dried figs’ as in CLA, possibly because their shrivelled appearance makes them look like raisins. In the UAE, they are also known as siHIh is-sUg (‘market dates’) (HANZ 269) and are proverbial for a ‘token gift’ of little value. 33 The rhyme becomes slightly mangled in the speaker’s memory. According to the version of the ditty given by U&M (II) 245, this line is not part of the ‘trick’ if the singers don’t receive a treat, but is completed by the words Hatta tzUrUn al-HabIb ‘so that you will visit the Lord’. But if the revellers were then given nothing, the curse was PaVUna naxxaG u knAr, Hatta tzUrUn in-nAr! ‘… so that you will go to Hell!’ 34 Lit ‘become hot’.
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S-2 S10-2
S-3 S10-3
S-4 S10-4
trick-or-treating, they would go…We’d carry on trick-or-treating at night, and in the day-time, and they’d give us— What did they say when they were doing it? Give us a bit of the song they used to sing. ‘O gargaPUn Has come to you again, O you fasters! [***********] O Ramadan! O God, o God, o God! May their son be safe and sound Their son, o dearest friends! And may his sword beat on the door! A year of high prices will not close (it), Nor will any penitents close (it)! Penitents, penitents! gargaPUn, garangiPU! You give us, and God give you! And take you to His house in Mecca! Give us of God’s wealth! And may He preserve Abdallah! gargaPUn, garangiPu That’s trick-or-treating. That’s it… And if they didn’t give us anything, we’d say ‘Give us chick-peas and dry-dates’, or if they didn’t give us anything we’d say ‘(give us) lotus-fruit, and you may thereby, be burnt by Hellfire by and by’—we’d insult them. If they came out but gave you nothing, you’d insult them? If they gave us nothing, we’d get angry… and beat their kids as well!
The practice of gargaPUn, like Hiyya biyya, seems to be old and common to all the sedentary coastal communities of eastern Arabia and southern Iraq, though there is no report of it in inner Arabia. It is certainly not a recent import from Europe. Dalishi states that, according to the inherited traditions of ordinary people in the area, the practice first arose in the southern Iraqi towns of W¸si« and Baªra in the time of the Caliph al-Ma}m¢n (ruled 813833), adding that the practice may be a ‘play acting’ of the activities of highway robbers demanding booty35. Ramadan is generally a month for giving presents
35
DAL 43.
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of food to the poor, and it is interesting that what the Ba¥¸rna call nARfa, the alternative name for the gift of sweets which the children receive, the {Arab term nAfla (il-Parab yigUlUn “nAfla”, iHna ngUl “nARfa”, as one B speaker put it) which locally means ‘a time of giving presents, doing good works’36 and in CLA can mean both ‘booty’ and ‘alms, gift’. Koran school Until well after the founding of the first government schools which taught a broad curriculum37, and certainly up to the 1930s and 40s, the only education most Bahraini boys received was in the Koran school, known among the A community as l-vmVawwaP and among the B as l-vmPallim. The acquisition by girls of anything beyond the rudiments of reading and knowledge of the Koran was seen as unnecessary or even undesirable by most urban families; in rural areas, even this level of education was unusual. Koran school involved first the rote learning of the alphabet after the teacher, and then the learning by heart (HufF) of portions of the Koran, divided into thirtieths (as one A speaker from Mu¥arraq put it: yixatmUn TalATIn il-yizaw ‘they completed the thirty parts’). The children were taught in mixed groups when young (they started at age 6 or 7) and were divided by sex at puberty. If the child stayed the course, he/she would finish learning the whole of the book by the age of 13 or 14. Such a person was described as having ‘completed’ (xatam) the Koran, and was known as a xAtim(a). The xatma was the occasion of a celebration in which the xAtim(a) was dressed in fine robes and paraded around the houses of the area (yidUrUn bih) to receive presents of sweets and money in return for reciting one of a number of prayers (taHmIdAt) at each door. In the 1930s, girls would wear gold jewellery, boys carry an ornamental dagger (xanyar) in an ornate belt and a sword (sEf) in their hand, and wear Kashmiri head-cloths (aSyAl), an ornamental head-rope (SuVfa), and a long robe with a caftan collar and narrow sleeves (dagla)—the dress of the well off of the period, and mostly, as in wedding celebrations, borrowed. However, many children were withdrawn by their parents from Koran school at the age of 9 or 10 through economic necessity, and added to their family’s labour force. Although the education was rudimentary, virtually anyone who themselves had attained a basic literacy through this system could set themselves up as
36
EADS 100. The Hid¸ya school in Mu¥arraq (1919), which catered for the needs of the Sunni population of the area and the Ja{fariyya school in Man¸ma (1929), which did the same for the sons of the local Shº{a merchants. 37
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a neighbourhood teacher (see text 5 below), charging the children a few pence a week for tuition. Text 5: Speaker 2: al-Ýidd (m1/45) Speaker 2 is an A woman from al-Ýidd in her 50s. First she describes her own time in Koran school, then her experience of setting one up. S is a younger female relative. S-1 S2-1
S-2 S2-2 S-3 S2-3
inti, yA mOza, tiParfIn tigrEn u tikitbIn? E, warAh 38 mA vPArf agra?! Ana ummi HaVVatni min sabaP snIn fi l-vmVawwaP, u HafaFt l-vmVawwaP fi TalAT SuhUr39, il-qurQAn... u Pugub mA xallaRna l-qurQAn, ya l-vmVawwaP u gAl Hagg abUy “yallah, bintik xalliRat, sallim il-flUs u xalna ndUr vbha!” u gAl abUy “inSAllah”... wi tyAmaPaw l-vRbayAn mAl il-madrasa killubUhum 40 il-banAt u l-vRbayAn... u labbisOni T-TOb41, w il-baxnag42 iz-zari w il-mAyward barrizOh, w il-PUd u dArO bI Pala l-firIG, kil bEt rubbiya, nAs rubbyatEn... yistafId minha l-vmVawwaP... u lE xallaR, “bass”, gAl l-vmVawwaP, “al-HIn binitkum xalliRat il-muRHaf”, FahharOni43 hali min l-vmVawwaP zEn, u Pugub FahharOC, S-Rirtay? gaPadt fi l-bEt! l-awwal yiParrisUna min wahal44, arbaPtaPSar sana. (***********************************************) zEn, u inti, Pugub xallaRti l-qurQAn, mA Rirti tgarri bi l-yihAl? bala, HaVVEt li madrasa fi l-bEt, Pindi lIwAn u gilt Hagg il-firIG, illi yabbi wildah aw bintah yigra l-vmVawwaP, Ana mistaPidda... gaPadt,
38 = ‘why?’ or ‘why not?’. This interrogative use of warAh is in Bahrain is exclusively an A dialect feature (and is also found in Najd), though the word is used by both the A and B communities in the phrase min warAh ‘by means of it’ and in other prepositional phrases. 39 As is clear from the rest of the text, the speaker does not literally mean she learnt the whole of the Koran by heart in three months, but probably that after three months of instruction in the alphabet, she could read it. 40 killubU- and killibA- for ‘all of’ are stereotypically A features, also noted for A speakers in Mu¥arraq, Man¸ma, East Rif¸{ and Budayya{. EADS 17 notes the same form for Kuwait. 41 i.e. TOb in-naSal the dress traditionally worn at weddings and other festive occasions such as a xatma. 42 A variant of buxnug, buxnag. 43 Fahar ‘to go out’ and Fahhar ‘to cause to go out’ are marked as A community forms; B speakers, and more educated speakers of both communities, use ValaP and VallaP. 44 min wahal/ vmwahal ‘early’ is used only by the A community. Cf CLA awwal wahla ‘first of all’.
childhood
S-4 S2-4
257
u HaVVEt lI baPad vbyAPa 45, bahluwAn46, zagg sibAl, nuxxay... u agarrIhum, u kil xamIs baPad iyIbUn xamIsiyya, arbaP AnAt, AntEn... u ha-r-rubbyatEn yaPVOnni mAl il-giriyya illi agarrIhum yaPni tistafIdUn minha ha-l-bEzAt? E, rubbyatEn, kil vRbay aw bnayya, iS-Sahar rubbyatEn yaPVOnni, wi l-xamIs, AntEn...yaPni, al-Hamdu lillAh, mPaySIn rUHna fi ha-d-dinya
Text 5: translation S-1 S2-1
S-2 S2-2 S-3 S2-3
S-4
45
Can you read and write, Moza? Yes, why wouldn’t I be able to?! My mother put me in Koran school when I was seven, and I learnt it in three months, the Koran… and after I’d finished the Koran, the teacher came and said to my father ‘Your daughter has completed (the memorisation), give me the money and let’s parade her round the quarter.’ My father said he would, so the boys from the school all gathered together, the boys and the girls… they dressed me in a special dress, and a hood embroidered with gold thread, and made ready the rose water and sandalwood. They paraded me round the quarter, and every house gave a rupee, some two, which the teacher would get the benefit of… and when that was finished, the teacher said ‘that’s it, your daughter has completed the Koran’ and my family took me out of Koran school. After they took you out, what did you do? I stayed at home! They used to marry us young, at fourteen. (**********************************************) After you finished the Koran, didn’t you used to teach children to read? Yes, I set up a school at home. I had a veranda, and I said to the people of the quarter, anybody who wants their son or daughter to learn the Koran, I’m ready to help…So I went on, and laid out some things for sale—sweets, monkey-nuts, chick-peas—and I would teach them to read, and every Thursday they brought the ‘Thursday gift’—four annas, two annas—and the two rupees they gave me for teaching them to read. You got the benefit of this money?
byAPa (pl -At) ‘saleable goods’. This word seems to be a brand name for a type of confectionary. pahluwAn means ‘strongman’, or ‘hero’ in Persian. 46
258 S2-4
chapter six Yes, two rupees, every boy and girl gave me two rupees a month, and on a Thursday, two annas… Praise be to God, we were able to feed ourselves with it. Text 6: Speaker 36: ad-Dir¸z (m1/11)
Speaker 36 is a 24 year-old illiterate village B woman who had married a man from ad-Dir¸z, though she was apparently born in ad-D¹h (m1/ 9). Both these villages are exceptional among the B dialects in having a y reflex of G. She recounts the routine of Koran school and how the children used to play tricks on their teacher. The other speaker, S, is a female friend from the same village. S36-1
S-1 S36-2 S-2
47
l-vmPallim... nRabbaH min iR-RubH nrUH... u nitrayyag fi bEt, ngUl lih47 “vmPallimti, iHna mA trayyagna, nabba nrUH nitrayyag, yA mPallimti mA trayyagna” gAlat “d-trUHi yumma trayyagay!” u lEn riHna PAd nitrayyag, iHna niCdib PalEha... iHna trayyagna fi bEtna, u nrUH nagPad Pala Sway... lEn laPabna Sway, tyi nuRR sAPa lO sAPa, tAli raddEna riHna lEha, ila tgUl “trayyagtUn yumma?” ginna “E” u nigPad Sway... u nxalli naPalatna u nxaSSiShum u nAxid girVAR u nlawwitha fi rayAyilna Pan ir-ramBa48? ... u tAli tAxid Vabga u tlAyim lEna min iV-VarIg, Vabga 49 u Vabga “ilbasu yumma Pan ir-ramBa, lA50 taHrigkum ir-ramBa yv51?” u nilbasha u nrUH PAd bEtna...u tAli niHmil xitna u xUna u niHmilah u nrUH u ngUl “hAwi umma, bitrUH ummi id-daxtar, lO bitrUH makAn, u yAy ixti lO axUy u tigarrIni?” tgUl “d-gUmi52 yumma rUHi bEtkum!” zEn, lAkin tiPirfUn l-awwal il-qurQAn aHsan min hAdi? E, da-l-HIn, da... kil yOm Raff, kil yOm Raff zEn u hAdi, lEn xatamat il-waHda, yiValPUnha bi hAdi, bi CaklEt u hAda?
‘to her’ (sic). ‘The hot ground’, cf CLA ramBAQ 49 Vabga is a single sandal. The speaker means ‘odd sandals’ not pairs. 50 lA here is ‘lest, so that not’. Its chief use as a verbal negative is in subordinate clauses of this type. 51 The B question particle v becomes yv (or hv) following a vowel-final word. 52 In some of the B village dialects (although not all), d- prefixed to imperatives has an exhortative or chivvying force—‘please do…’; prefixed to a ps verb it indicates continuous or habitual action. The equivalent forms in the Muslim dialects of Baghdad are d(i)- and darespectively (ERW 139-140). 48
childhood S36-3 S-3 S36-4 S-4 S36-5 S-5 S36-6
259
E, yinafrUn53 PalEha, u yiwaddUn bEzAt u yiwaddUn il-misyid, yinafrUn PalEha u yiJannOn iyabbibOn yaPni xAtima l-qurQAn E, xAtima l-qurQAn, yiPurfUnha xAtima l-qurQAn, yiJannOn iyabbibOn bass tiHfuB il-waHda il-qurQAn— E, bass, tAli tiPirfuh, kil Say tiPirfuh tAli tamSi fIh54 intIn lES mA riHtIn madrasa? ani yOm ParrasOni baPadha mA ValaPat il-madrasa hnAk fi d-dEh 55, il-awwal mA yiwaddUn JEr id-dIra
Text 6: translation S36-1
S-1 S36-2 S-2
53
As for Koran school, we just got up in the morning and went. We would have breakfast in a house and then say ‘Teacher, we haven’t had any breakfast, we want to go and have breakfast, teacher, we haven’t had breakfast’, so she said ‘Go and have breakfast then!’ So when we went off to have breakfast, we were actually playing a trick on her—we had already had breakfast at home, so we’d go off and sit around for a while. When we’d played games for a bit— half an hour or an hour—we went back to her, and she would say ‘Had your breakfasts now then?’ We said ‘Yes’ and we’d stay for a while. We’d take our sandals off and put them away, and then take a piece of paper and wrap it round our feet to protect them from the hot ground. Then (the teacher) would take an odd sandal and pick up others from the street, odd ones, not pairs and say ‘Put these on so that the hot ground doesn’t burn you, eh?’ And we’d put them on and go home. Then we’d come back carrying our (little) sisters and brothers, and say to her ‘Tut, tut, my mum’s got to go to the doctor’, or some other place, ‘and my little sister (or brother) has come with me, can you listen to me read?’ She’d reply ‘Off you go, now, back to your home!’ OK, but in the old days you knew the Koran better than they do these days? Yes, these days, these—… it was class every day, every day. And when a girl had learnt it all, they would take her round, with sweets and that?
< yinaTrUn tamSi fIh lit ‘she could go in it’, i.e. she had the means to understand it. 55 That is, the speaker, like the one on text 5, got married virtually as soon as she had finished Koran school; the implication is that had there been a government school in her village, that might have been an alternative to getting married. 54
260 S36-3
S-3 S36-4 S-4 S36-5 S-5 S36-6
chapter six Yes, they would shower her with sweets, they would send sweets and take (her) to the mosque… they would shower her with sweets and sing and ululate. Because she’d completed the learning of the Koran off by heart. Yes, she’d completed it, they recognised her as one who had completed it by singing and ululating. A girl just learnt the Koran off by heart— She just got to know it, afterwards she could understand anything. Why didn’t you go to a government school? When I got married the school hadn’t yet opened over there in adD¹h, and in the old days they wouldn’t take you anywhere except within the village. Text 7: Speaker 16: al-F¸¤il, Man¸ma (m2/7)
Speaker 16 is a B woman in her 40s who had spent her childhood in Qatar. She is one of the speakers in text 2 of the Marriage chapter. These are her memories of Koran school. S16
kinna maPa l-vwlEdAt56... Pindvna yaPni vwlEdAt... hAdi yOm il-xamIs, lEn bihiddUnhum... yigrUn lihum “itmassi yA mPallim bi saPAda”57, u yihiddUnhum ila Qadda yOm il-GumPa min iR-RubH, gabil il-QadAn58 kil wAHid yitnAfasOn maPa baPBhum baPB, gabil il-QadAn iR-RubH, yiHimlUn l-vfnAra... illi yaHmil lih fanar, u illi yaHmil lih SimPa, u illi yaHmil lih lEt, mAl yad, u yirUHUn Hagg il-miPallim u yidirsUn, hAy min iR-RubH... yigaPdUn u yidirsUn il-qurQAn fi bEt l-vmPallim, Pind il-miPallim... u lEn BaHBaHat 59 id-dinya, axaDaw rUHhum u VlaPaw... u iHna PAd il-banAt inGammiP lina min dOr is-subUP li dEr is-subUP60... nsawwi hAdi— xallUV, isammUnah mAl awwal, isammUnah xallUV... nsawwi PES u ribyAn u dihin, hAda killah nyamPah min dOr is-subUP li dEr is-subUP... wi nigPad vnVabxah yOm il-GimPa...
56 This word, the pl of vwlEd, is used for children of both sexes, especially those in Koran school. 57 This is the first hemistich of the words of a song called il-masAyAt, sung by the children to their Koran teacher at the week’s end. For a version of the text, see UR (I) 94. 58 A ‘correct’ form with Q, though with B d rather than ‘correct’ D. 59 Apparently < BiHa ‘the late morning’. 60 lit ‘from the end of one week to the end of another’—dOr/ dEr here means the point where one period of time ends and the next begins. dOr is also used in the same sense with sana.
childhood
261
wi nigPad nilPab, nsawwi lEna byUt wi nissAyar61 Pala baPBna baPB— hAy killah fi bEt l-vmPallim min vwlEdAt il-banAt maPa baPBna baPB, nsawwi lEna byUt wi nigPad fIha u kil waHda ssAyir Pala T-TAnya: “S-aHwAliS62?” u “SlOnkum?” u “SlOn awlAdkum? inSAllah zEnIn”, nsawwi ha-S-Sakil... u lEn rAHat l-vmPallima VlaPat Panna, laPabna l-xabRa, u laPabna l-lagfa, u laPabna l-xuSESa63... u nilPab... ilEn yAtvna l-miPallima u simaPna diggat il-bAb, SAradna kil wAHid gAPid Pala qirQAnah... Gawwad qirQAnah u gAPid yigrAh Cinnah mA sawwa Say
Text 7: translation S16
61
We were with the little kids… we had little kids with us… it was on a Thursday, when the kids were about to leave, that they would recite ‘Have a happy evening, Teacher’ and they would leave… until Friday morning came… before the call to morning prayer, each one would be in competition with the next, before the morning call, they would carry lanterns—one would be carrying a lantern, one a candle, one a torch—and they would go to the Koran teacher and study, in the morning… they would sit and study the Koran in the teacher’s house… and when it got to mid-morning, they took themselves off, and left… and us girls, we would save things over the course of the week… and we would make up this ‘mixture’, they used to call it in the old days, ‘mixture’… we would make rice and prawns and cooking oil—which we’d saved up over the course of the week… and we’d cook it on a Friday… and we’d play—we’d make pretend-houses and visit one another—and this was all in the teacher’s house, the little girl pupils in the Koran school playing with each other—we’d make ourselves houses and visit each other ‘How are you?’, and ‘How’s it going?’ and ‘How are the kids? I hope they’re well’—things like that. And when the teacher went out and left us alone, we played xabRa and ‘jacks’, and xuSESa... and… until when the teacher came back and we heard the noise of the door, we ran back to our places, everyone sitting
< tsAyar ‘to pay one another visits’. It is interesting that, although this B speaker usually uses A forms in all areas of phonology and morphology, there are a few where she always has B forms, pronominal suffixes being one. A speakers would always have -iC not -iS for 2nd fem sing. The nominal in this phrase of phatic communion, aHwAl is also a typically B, not A usage. 63 For an explanation of xabRa and xuSESa, see the section on children’s games below. 62
262
chapter six over her Koran, holding her Koran and reading it as if she hadn’t moved a muscle. Text 8: Speaker 10: Ar-Rif¸{ Ash-Shargº (m1/51)
This speaker also features in text 4 of this chapter. The focus here is on the sometimes unusual means used to control the vwlEdAt. S10-1 S-1 S10-2 S-2 S10-3
S-3 S10-4
hast madrasa bass mA daSSOna ahliyyatna64 il-madAris S-kintu tigrUn il-awwal fi z-zaman il-qadIm? il-qurQAn yigrUn yaPni nAs u nAs— yirUHUn l-vmVawwaP? yiSirdUn u Di... yixaSSUnna fi l-xESa, yaPni yixawfUnna iHna...yigUlUn lina yiHuVVUn gaVaw65 fi l-xESa, yiHuVVUn gaVaw fi l-xESa...yaPni hADa l-vmVawwaP willa l-vmTawwaPa [*] iR-RibH, yiHuVViC fi l-xESa, u yiHuVV wiyyAC gaVaw... w il-gaVaw “mEw, mEw” killvna nRarrix Pan il-xOf... willa yiHuVVUn Say yixarriPna 66 “wAy!” u yiVigg l-vmPallim, l-vmVawwaP yAxiD rIlna yiPalligna rAsna taHat u rIlna fOg 67... u yilaSSiVna “taHH”—Cifti iD-DibIHa? miTil iD-DibIHa lli yisalxUnha nzEn yaPni Di, al-HIn lA...al-HIn madAris, u yirUHUn mnassilIn, vmPaddilIn... wEn68 al-HIn? l-vmVawwaP, naSrid!
64 The -iyya suffix noted in previous texts. There seems to be no difference in meaning between ahl/ hal and ahliyya ‘family’. 65 gaVu/ gaVaw is a basically an A form. Urban B speakers also use it, but those B speakers, especially villagers, less affected by the A dialect use a different basic term, sannUr, also used in the sedentary dialects of Oman (REIN 7), the lower Gulf (HANZ 306), and typical of some qvltu-dialects of Anatolia and northern Iraq (AQ 363, JAS (I) 39) but not central and southern Iraq, where the term bazzUn(a) is normal for ‘cat’. However, the references quoted in BLA 147 suggest that sannUr or a related term was used in the old (11 th century) Iraqi vernaculars. The word came into Arabic via Aramaic (FR 112). 66 xarraP ‘to frighten’ is only used by A speakers in Bahrain, but it is also used in Najd. B speakers use xawwaf. 67 The reference is to the GHESa the ‘little donkey’, a device used for suspending miscreants upside down while they were beaten on the soles of their feet, formerly used in Koran schools (and even in some government ones until the mid-1960s, when the xEzarAna ‘the cane’ replaced it). 68 wEn can be used as an exclamation, meaning ‘there’s no comparison!’
childhood
263
Text 8: translation S10-1 S-1 S10-2 S-2 S10-3
S-3 S10-4
There were (government) schools, but our families didn’t send us to them. What did you read in the old days? They read the Koran, some people— Did they go to Koran school? They used to run away from it, and that…they used to put us in a sack, to frighten us… they would tell us they were going to put a cat in the sack, put a cat in the sack (with us)… that Koran teacher, or the woman teacher [*], in the morning they’d put you in a sack, and put a cat in with you. The cat would go ‘meow, meow’ and we’d scream with fright… or they put something else in to frighten us, we’d go ‘Whay!’ And the Koran teacher would beat us, he’d take us by the feet and hang us upside down, and thrash us, ‘whack!’ Have you seen a slaughtered animal hung up? We were like animals hung up waiting to be skinned. Right. But that, now, no! Now they have proper schools, and they go with their hair brushed and their clothes all neat. It’s totally different now! Koran school? We used to run away from it! Text 9: Speaker 62: Karr¸na (m1/19)
Speaker 62 was a B villager of indeterminate age, though probably around 60, who had been crippled when a small child by polio (PuwEgil, fAliG). His disability had then been made worse by a local masseur (marrAx). Of no use to his father as a farm hand, he had enrolled in a succession of rural Koran schools, but never succeeded in learning how to write. He was doing small jobs on the family allotment with the help of a grandson when AIH and I visited the area on our daily rounds. AIH-1 S62-1
69
min zamAn HaGGi hAda69 lO wE? ana? wallah min yOm ana wald tisPat aShur... lAkin al-HIn zitt70... kil mA kubrat il-Giffa71, fuklat72... hAdi r-rGUla73 hAdi, xarAbha min allah
The reference is to S62’s withered leg. Lit ‘I’ve increased’ (i.e. my disability has got worse). 71 < GiTTa via the normal B f < T rule. This word is normal in these B village dialects for a ‘body’ that is still alive, as well as a ‘corpse’. 70
264 AIH-2 S62-2 AIH-3 S62-3
AIH-4 S62-4 AIH-5 S62-5 AIH-6 S62-6 AIH-7 S62-7 AIH-8 S62-8 AIH-9 S62-9 AIH-10 S62-10 AIH-11 S62-11
chapter six min yOm inta RaJIr? min yOm ana RaJIr... hAdIk is-sana yikUlUn hast PuwEgil74 PuwEgil? PuwEgil yaPni rIH75 iGi... lAkin lA miS daxAtir l-awwal miflAt al-HIn, fahamt? kAl wAHid “ana amraxuh76”, kAl li abUy allah yirHamvh, “ana amrax waladk, hAdAk mitPawwir” u inta baPadvk RaJIr ana mA afham! baPad aRIr wald tisPat aShur... u gaPad yimraxni u abUy yirUH il-manAma u yimrax fIyyi ohO! [*] yaPni awwal mu Cidi? awwal mu kidi, RAHi, bass rIH rIH rIH... GAhil... lAkin mA nafham... naRIb! naRIb! al-HIn kAl abUy hAda mA lih, mA lih l-izrAPa77, aHuVVvh fi l-vmPallim... l-awwal baPad mPalmAt78 mA miS... kalIlIn kalIlIn mu miflAt al-HIn, yirUH il-madrasa u yirUH— E naPam, Padil hA? u riHt il-Hilla, Hillat Pabdu R-RAliH79, atPallam... maSi trUH brUHvk? E, wallah wiyyAyi baPad bnayya
72 fuklat < OA Taqulat, via B f < T and k < q.Both f and k are emphatised. Verbs that had a high theme vowel in the ss of the CLA verb have CvCCvC forms in the 3rd person in the B village dialects (kubrat, RuJrat, kufrat, simPat, etc). 73 In some B village dialects, rGUla is the sing form, in others rGUl/ ryUl. Pl raGAyil (or rayAyil in those villages which have y < G). 74 This word was not at first understood by AIH, but was glossed by other B dialect speakers as Salal, fAliG. The adjectives mPargal, and, in the lower Gulf mHaryil (< mHarGil) both mean ‘paralysed, lame’ and may be etymologically related to PuwEgil. The CLA root P-q-l has several words denoting ‘twisting or deformity of the leg’, one of the common consequences of childhood polio. 75 rIH means ‘rheumatic pain’ and, according to GLOS 1535, ‘among the Bedouin can mean any pain’. 76 A marrAx is both a traditional masseur and setter of broken bones. It appears that in this case S62’s affliction may have been made worse by traditional medicine. 77 Lit ‘agriculture is not for him’. 78 This appears to be a pl of mPallim, though mPallimIn, or more commonly, mPalmiyya is the normal pl. It is not credible that the speaker is referring to female mPalmAt, which did exist but taught only girls (and were extremely few at this period in any case). 79 A small B village about half a mile south of the Qal{at al-{Aj¸j (‘Portuguese Fort’) between al-Maqsha{ (m1/25) and Karr¸na (m1/19).
childhood AIH-12 S62-12 AIH-13 S62-13 AIH-14 S62-14 AIH-15 S62-15 AIH-16 S62-16 AIH-17 S62-17 AIH-18 S62-18 AIH-19 S62-19 AIH-20 S62-20 AIH-21 S62-21 AIH-22 S62-22 AIH-23 S62-23
80
265
lA, trUH maSi yaPni? tigdar tamSi PalEh yaPni? agdar amSi... ams, agdar amSi, il-yOm mA amSi illa bi l-PukkAz... wallah, HafaBt il-qurQAn HafaBtvh HafaBtvh, balAkin kaPadt iGi famAn sinIn... kAl baPad “HafaBt il-qurQAn”, nPalmvh il-kaytab80 naPam? nPalmvh il-kaytab! E, hAda l-abu? hAda l-abu. il-qurQAn HafaBtvh! HafaBtvh... baPad il-kaytab! baPad il-kaytab... al-HIn waddAni abu RaybiP... Pind wAHid yisammUnvh RAliH iz-zACi RAliH min? RAliH mAl mgAba? mAl abu RaybiP I! bala! hAda illi al-HIn waladvh HaGGi aHmad bala, maPrUf wallah rAsmAli81 ana u hu... hu yiSlaP82 u yidigg gayAVIn83... u ana fi RuJari HayIy... u kAPid yiBrubni Hakka84 fi nPAlvh u Hakka— hAda yiPallim! hA? hu muPallim hAda lAkin mA gabaBt85min Pindvh Say, nasIbvk86! taPlIm taPlIm
A local verbal noun, not known to AIH and not recorded elsewhere. rAsmAl is figuratively one’s ‘only possession’, e.g. iHna rAsmAlna HiGratEn ‘all we have is two rooms’, but can also be used of offspring, e.g. bass hAda l-walad rAsmAlvh ‘this boy is his only son’. 82 ‘To remove, pull out’. Also noted for southern Arabia (GLOS 2077), the southern Gulf (HANZ 331) and Khuzistan (KHUZ (I) 551). 83 i.e. he earned his living as a tailor. gayAVIn is the pl of gEVAn, the cotton fringe on the anklet’s of women’s trousers, and by synecdoche, the trousers themselves. 84 A B village form = Hatta 85 gabaB / kabaB ‘to get, obtain’ is a stereotypical B village dialect vocabulary item. A speaks (and B urbanites) use HaRal/ HaRRal or HAS / HawwaS. 86 An example of what has been called (see YASS) the ‘bi-polar’ address system, whereby the relationship the speaker has either literally or (as here) metaphorically with his interlocutor is expressed by the appropriate kin term + 2nd person pronoun enclitic. 81
266 AIH-24 S62-24 AIH-25 S62-25 AIH-26 S62-26
chapter six killvh Barb? killvh Barb! Barb, u min aGi ihni— kaPadt... tAli istamallEt, kaPadt atharrab— ila l-bEt axUh igi yibazziz87, igi yiStaki Paliyyi u yikUl “HusnO88 al-yOm mA Ga”... u yitwallAni abUy baPad... ihni Barb— Barb azyad min l-awwal! — u hnAk Barb... il-maziyya mA gabaBt min Pindvh Si! wilAhu yaPni— ... hAbbIn rIH89, iz-zawACi... tAli PAd, riHt Pind wAHid yisammUnvh muHsin wild Pali bin kAFim... wallah, kaPadt aktib fi wafA, yaPni naBar90... wallah, intahat, bass Cam min yOm, ValaPt... mA gabaBt SI... rAsmAli il-qurQAn al-HIn...
Text 9: translation AIH-1 S62-1
AIH-2 S62-2 AIH-3 S62-3
AIH-4 S62-4
AIH-5
87
Have you been like this for a long time, Hajji, or what? Me? By God, since I was nine months old…. But now it’s got worse. The older my body’s got, the less supple it’s become… This leg here, it’s been no use since birth. Since you were little? Since I was little… they say that that year there was polio. Polio? Polio, like, this pain would come… but there were no doctors in the old days like there are now, you see? Some man said ‘I’ll massage him’, he said to my father, God have mercy on him, ‘I’ll massage your son, he’s in pain’. When you were still little. I wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on! I’d be no more than nine months old… so he kept on massaging me, while my father was away in Man¸ma, massaging me. Oh!
A denominative verb < bazz ‘cloth, material’ Hypocoristic forms of names ending in -O/ -aw are used throughout the Gulf from Oman (OP 489) to Khuzistan (KHUZ (II) 81 n. 87) and may be linked to the suffix in -u noted by Blanc for Baghdad (BLA 74). 89 hAbb rIH, fem HAbbat rIH, pl hAbbIn rIH means ‘clever, expert’ (also in the lower Gulf: HANZ 632, and Baghdad: W&B 476), cf CLA habbat rIHuhu lit ‘his wind blows’ ≈ ‘he’s got the Midas touch’. In the syntax of the dialectal phrase, hAbb is always treated as predicated of the head noun in the phrase, rather than of rIH as in the CLA equivalent. 90 Lit ‘out of loyalty, by (just) watching’, the implication being that the speaker did not understand what he was doing. 88
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AIH-9 S62-9 AIH-10 S62-10 AIH-11 S62-11 AIH-12 S62-12 AIH-13 S62-13 AIH-14 S62-14 AIH-15 S62-15 AIH-16 S62-16 AIH-17 S62-17 AIH-18 S62-18 AIH-19 S62-19 AIH-20 S62-20
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{*] You mean before your leg wasn’t like it is now? Before it wasn’t like this, it was healthy, but I had pain. Pain! Pain! I was a child… but we didn’t understand what was the matter… it was fate! Fate! So my father said, ‘that’s not for him, farming isn’t for him, I’ll put him in Koran school’… In the old days there weren’t any Koran schools… few. Few. Not like now, with boys going to school and going to— Yes, that’s true. What? So I went to Ýilla {Abdu ª-Õ¸li¥ to learn. Did you go on foot, on your own? Yes, by God, with a little girl. No, I mean did you walk? Could you walk on your leg? I could walk… before, I could walk, now I can only walk with a stick…. By God, I memorised the Koran. You memorised it. I memorised it, but I stayed there about eight years… (my father) said ‘you’ve learnt the Koran’, ‘now we’ll teach him to write’. Pardon? ‘We’ll teach him to write’. Yes, you mean your father said that? My father. You’d learnt the Koran! I’d learnt it. Now for writing! Now, writing… so he put me with in Abu Õaybi{… with a man called Õ¸li¥ al-Z¸õº. Õ¸li¥ who? Õ¸li¥ from Maq¸ba? From Abu Õaybi{. Yes! Right! Whose son is Ýajjº A¥mad. Yes, I know him. By God, all I had in the world was him and me… he used to sew on and remove the ankle bands on women’s trousers… Now, when I was young I was shy… he always used to beat me, even with his sandals and even— He was the teacher!
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Eh? This man was the teacher? But I got nothing from him, my friend! In the way of teaching. Teaching. Just beating? Just beating… so when I came back home here, I stayed… I just got fed up (with the beating), and ran off all the time. Back home. His brother used to come around here, hawking cloth… he would come and complain about me, saying ‘Young Ýasan didn’t come to school today’… so then my father would set about me too…. a beating here— You got beaten even more than you did before! — and another one there… the upshot was, I learnt nothing from him! But he was—…they were clever people, the Z¸õº family…then I went to a man called Mu¥sin, the son of {Alº bin K¸¤im… by God, I kept on faithfully trying to write, copying what I saw… but by God, it ended and after a few days, I left… I didn’t learn anything… all I know is the Koran. Children’s games
Children’s games were generally played on the barAH or barAHa, an open area within the village or neighbourhood that was the main area for public celebrations during the aPyAd, and for, communal talk, play, and relaxation. The beach (is-sIf) was also a popular place. When the weather was too hot, the children retreated to the shade of the back-streets and alleyways (iz-zarAnIg). As in Europe, there were games that were the exclusive preserve of girls or boys, and some which were communal (or were boys v. girls). The accounts given below are based on several speakers’ descriptions and the available literature, in which there were differences in nomenclature and the details of how the game was played. Girls’ games Many of the games played by girls were similar to those familiar to me from an English childhood: skipping rope (Habil), hopscotch (sikEna, kaCCa) (described in text 10 below), and a number of variations on the ‘hide-andseek’ theme: iR-RumEda, exactly like English ‘hide-and-seek’, even in the use of a nonsense rhyme similar to ‘eeny, meeny, miney, mo’ to choose the person
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whose turn it is to do the seeking; and, one of the most popular, il-xuSESa91, similar to a game played in parts of the UK known as ‘thumbs up’, a kind of cross between, as the name suggests92, hide-and-seek and blind-man’sbuff. In il-xuSESa, a game played exclusively by large groups of girls, the chosen girl sits opposite the game leader and buries her face in her lap, while the other players hide. One of them comes up behind the girl with her face hidden, and engages in a fixed question and answer session, from which the former must guess the answerer’s identity from her voice. If she guesses correctly, the answerer takes her place; if not she has to search for the girls who are hiding, and the one she catches first takes her place93. Games of ‘tag’ or ‘tick’, e.g. iR-RiPgEP and iR-REda94, were also popular, and played by boys as well as girls. One of the best-known girls’ games, played throughout the Gulf, is xabRa95, a kind of ‘treasure hunt’, and known to the ancient Arabs as al-fiyAl or al-mufAyala96. The game involves one of the players, of whom there may be several, taking it in turns to hide some beads or other small objects in one of a number of piles of dirt, the number of which is the same as the number of players. The players must guess in turn in which pile the beads are hidden, and the successful guesser in each round of the game wins the beads. Text 10: Speaker 2: al-Ýidd (m1/45) The speaker is the same speaker as in text 5 of this chapter. Here she gives a description of the game sikEna97, a Gulf version of hopscotch. S is a younger female relative. S-1 S2-1 S-2 S2-2
91
zEn, S-il-alPAb illi kintu yOm intu RJAr tliPbUnha? il-alPAb wAyid...is-sikEna— zEn, is-sikEna Sinhu vhiyya? is-sikEna, allah yisalmiC, yAxDUn Say PUd, u yiSaxVUn fi l-arF... yisawwUn arbaP murabbaPAt minni, u xams murabbaPAt minni... u
< xaSS ‘to hide’. The game is also known as il-xuSESO, and il-xuSESuwa. xaSS ‘to hide s’thing’. 93 In the English version of this game, ‘thumbs up’ the answerer’s identity has to be guessed on the basis of touch, as in blind-man’s-buff, not voice. 94 REda means ‘prey’. The meaning of RiPgEP is unclear. 95 xabaR ‘to mix up, mess up, confuse.’ 96 The CLA name of the game apparently derived from the phrase fAl raQyak ‘your judgement is wrong’, said to each of the losing players. 97 Also known as sikkEna, and among the B community as sakkUn/ sakkOn, except in R¸s Rumm¸n, where it is known as il-kaCCa (see text 11 below). 92
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Pindhum nitfat xiSab yiguVVUnah min al-awwal li l-Axir... fi l-Axir illi il-wAHid yixalliR, yinGaH, yaPni msawwi zEn... u iDa marra waHda FarabtIh b rIliC willa rAHat, trUH iT-TAni u tilPab zEn, u hAy illi yigiVVUnah—bih, Hagg is-sikEna, SisammUnah? kil Say, yAxDUn nitfat HaRa mrabbaPa, yAxDUn CibrIt yiHuVVUn fIh trAb, yAxDUn yAPni ay Say yiCUfUnah yamSi Pala hADi s-sikEna, yiliPbUn fIh
S-3 S2-3
Text 10: translation S-1 S2-1 S-2 S2-2
Right, what were the games you used to play when you were small? There were lots…sikEna. What was sikEna? sikEna was when they took a bit of stick, and scratched lines on the ground… they made four squares here, and five there… and they had a bit of wood, which they threw from the first (square) to the last… at the last (square), when the player finishes, he’s won, he’s done well… but if, once, you (accidentally) kicked (the wood) with your foot or it didn’t go (where it should), it’s the next player’s turn to play. Right, and the thing they throw…with, in sikEna, what did they call that? Anything, they might take a bit of square stone, or a matchbox filled with dirt, they’d take anything they saw which would do for this game of sikEna, and play with that.
S-3 S2-3
Text 11: Speakers 34 and 35: R¸s Rumm¸n (m2/5) Both speakers, and their interlocutor (S), a teacher in an illiteracy eradication centre, are from the B quarter of R¸s Rumm¸n in Man¸ma. S34 and S35 are both in their 30s, and recount childhood games they played in what was then a sea-side area (no longer, as a result of land reclamation (dafin, dafAn)). S34-1 S35-1
98
yOm iHna yihAl, nilPab iR-RirgEP98, nilPab il-kaCCa falAfna, taHatna hnAk il-baHar, nilPab sirgEP, yaPni qisim mAl RbayAn, qisim mAl banAt, u lEn xalaRna min liPib iR-RirgEP, gumna nilPab il-kaCCa... lEn xallaRna min liPib il-kaCCa, nrUH tAli nilPab fi l-baHar, vnlAyim hAda wES ismah, hAda l-HaRa, u nigPad nlAymah u nilPab
An alternative for the more common pronunciation RiPgEP.
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fIh... u lEn rAHat il-mAya, nibni lEna byUt fi l-baHar ihnAk, wES ismah, min iHGAra, nigPad nilPab fIhum... ilEn yat il-mAya, xarubat il-iHGAra, u raddEna yOm fAni baPad riHna, u sawwEna baPad ha-S-Sakil ... u nrUH nlAyim lEna warag mAl il-lOz, vnHuVVah fi JarSa, nsawwi gadu, biniSrab hAda l-gadu, killvh hAda fi liPib Cam Pumurkum? ifnaPsar sana iTnaPSar99 sana laPabtUn? akbar baPad, Rirna kbAr u iHna nilPab! lA, yaPni, lEn ummahAt sabaP snIn baPad, u iHna nilPab yaPni hAda l-lagfa100, laPab il-kaCCa, laPab il-Habil killvh fi rAs rummAn ROb il-baHar? killvh fi ROb il-baHar baPadhu mA yiRIr il-aSya hAdi, il-iPmArAt, il-funduq hiltun... ayyAmAt iB-BiHiyya101 baPad, nrUH Pind il-baHar
Translation: text 11 S34-1 S35-1
S-1 S34-2 S-2 S35-2 S34-3 S-3
When we were kids, we would play hide-and-seek and hopscotch. The three of us—the sea was right near us there—would play hideand-seek, a group of boys and a separate group of girls, and when we’d finished playing hide-and-seek, we’d play hopscotch…and when we’d finished that, we’d go and play in the sea, we’d collect pebbles, we’d collect them and play with them… and when the tide went out, we’d build houses out of stones and play with them… and when the tide came in, the stones would be destroyed… and we returned the next day, we went back, and did the same thing again… and we’d go and collect almond leaves, and put them in a clay jar, and make a (pretend) pipe, and we would smoke it, all as a game. How old were you? Twelve. Twelve, and you were still playing? Older than that, we grew up but we still played! No, when were aged seven, we played jacks, and hopscotch, and skipping rope. All in R¸s Rumm¸n, near the sea?
99 The interviewer, a B teacher, speaks more ‘correctly’ than her interviewee, though still maintains the stereotypically B morphology of the verb form laPabtUn. 100 ‘Jacks’, normally a boys’ game (see below). 101 See texts 1 and 2, this chapter.
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chapter six All near the sea. But these things can’t be done any more because of the apartment blocks, the Hilton hotel… and when it was the season for growing pot-plants, we’d go to the sea.
Text 12: Speaker 38: San¸bis (m1/33) The speaker is a B village woman in her 40s (see also Domestic Life, text 2). She talks here about children’s play in a rural area, in which farm animals were often employed as playthings. S38
laPab il-awwal... lEn gumna nilPab, waHda tinxaSS fi ParIS, u waHda fi tannUr, u waHda fi sidH102, u waHda fi layawAn, u waHda fi dAr103... u ida HawwaSaw Janama, lO baSSa104, lO yaPni dIC, lO dyAy, bass yiPalmUnah Pala liPbat 105 illi yilPabUnha l-banAt wi l-vRbayAn... il-HAmil wi l-HAyil106, w illi baVinha Bana w illi mA fi baVinha Bana... tirkub fOg is-sidH, min fOg, u tiftarr Pala l-daray farAr, u tilPab wiyya l-Janama w il-Janama tilPab wiyyAh Pala kEf illi timba, in baJat tEs willa Janama, killvh wAHid... iHna u JErna... baPad nirkuB min il-bEt ila l-mAtam... Pala liPib iR-REda, u Pala habSat107 il-Pumay u Pala rOHat is-sIf, u Pala raGPathum min is-sIf, lEl u nahAr... hADa l-HIn lEn VilPaw il-yihAl yilPabUn, yigUlUn, hADi itgUl “fACha” u hADi itgUl “galIlat il-Haya” u hADi itgUl “mA tistaHIn”... il-awwal liPibhum aHsan min al-HIn... il-awwal mA yisiktUn... al-HIn asnaP 108 min l-awwal
102 This is the normal BA word for ‘flat roof’, not saVH. It is possible that the form arose via the similarity with the verb sidaH/ saddaH ‘to knock down, knock flat’, insidaH ‘to lie prostrate, flat’. 103 Here, ‘downstairs room’, as opposed to Jurfa ‘upstairs room’, but in other contexts the word can mean any stone or mud-built house. 104 A type of duck. The word is also known in Baghdad (W&B 35). 105 Sic. The behaviour of the head-noun (sounding of final -t) suggests that the grammatical relation with the following relative clause is one of annexation. Such constructions are not uncommon in the B dialects. 106 It is unclear whether this and the following phrase apply to the girls or the animals they were playing with. HAyil can apply to any female animal that is fertile but fails to bear young in a particular year. Given the young age at which girls were married in the speaker’s youth (nine was common, and most village girls were married by thirteen or fourteen), it probably is being applied to her young teenage companions here. 107 This is like the English game ‘blind man’s buff’. The Arabic means literally ‘blind man’s grab (habSa)’. See GLOS 2844-5. However, I did not record habaS in Bahrain as a normal verb for ‘to grab, hold, pick up’. 108 tsannaP ‘to behave decorously’, sinAPa ‘polite behaviour’. The root has this meaning throughout southern Iraq, Najd and eastern Arabia. Cf CLA sanaPa ‘to be gracious’
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Text 12: translation S38
Playing games in the old days… when we played, one girl would hide in a hut, one in a clay oven, one on the roof, one on the veranda, one in a downstairs room… and if they got hold of a she-goat, or a duck, or a cockerel, or a hen, they’d just teach it to play the game they were playing, boys and girls together… girls who were pregnant, girls who weren’t, the one carrying a baby, and the one who wasn’t would climb up on the roof, upstairs, and take turns coming down the ladder, would play with the she-goat just as the she-goat would play with her, just as she wanted, whether she wanted (to play with) a billy-goat or a she-goat, it was all the same… for us and for everyone else… and we’d run from home to the funeral-house… playing ‘tag’ and blind-man’s buff, going to the sea-shore and coming back, day and night… but now, when the kids go out to play, they say, er… this girl says ‘You’re cheeky!’, and that one says ‘You’re shameless!’, and another one says ‘You’ve got no shame!’. In the old days their games were better than now… in the old days they never kept quiet… today the kids are more polite than in my day.
Text 13: Speaker 10: Ar-Rif¸{ Ash-Shargº A favourite girls’ game was barrUy109 in which all kinds of household bits and pieces, pieces of cloth, even dead seabirds brought back from the sea by pearl-divers, were made into miniature dolls and little houses, and vegetable peelings and other detritus were used to make pretend ‘meals’ for the dolls. The speaker is the same one as in text 2 of this chapter, an illiterate middleaged female A speaker. S is her teacher at an illiteracy eradication centre. S-1 S10-1
109
Sinhu l-alPAb illi iyIbUnha? alPAb? hADi... yinAHAt DelEn il-Ginn110 yAxDUnhum, yiRaydUnhum... gaRRaw il-yinHAt, JassilOhum, u HaVVOhum fi r-ramAd111, wallah iHna
Also noted for Kuwait in SHAM 129. This collective noun, pronounced by B speakers as ginn, denotes various types of seabird (HAN 79). 111 Here ‘hot ashes, embers’. The idea seems to be to dry out the dead bird’s flesh. The use of dead sea-creatures as toys was apparently widespread: S.M. Shaml¸n recounts (TAG II 320) how, in his childhood in Kuwait, his uncle used to bring him back starfishes from the pearlbeds. He provides a photograph (op. cit. 321) of a starfish (POPaw) on which a tiny ‘saddle’ has been put to make it look like a beast of burden. 110
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S-2 S10-2 S-3 S10-3
S-4 S10-4 S-5 S10-5
nyIbhum vndaPPishum, mAl lOh, kbAr, u nPaddilha, il-PaRR, hADa l-PaFam yaPni il-PaFam mAl il-lOha? E, niStiri— nsawwi lihum, vnxayyiV lihum... vnxayyiV lihum daffa, w ir-rayyAl biSit yaPni tsawwUnah ParUsa RaJIra? E, ParUsa RaJIra u miPris u PayAlhum wiyyAhum, nsawwi manAFir112 RJErAt, u tCUfIn S-iHlElAthum yiRIrUn! nistAnis ayyAm ubuhAtna min il-JOR Hagg ha-l-alPAb... hADi l-madUd113, yisawwUn barrUy, SlOn kuntu— il-barrUy baPad gawAVi SlOn yaPni? nHuVVhum, nilPab fIhum, gawAVi... nAxID ha-l-buRal, ha-l-HaSIS, mA dri SinHu illi Pindhum yiguVVUn ahliyyAtna, vnHaVVhum, nsawwi RAlUna lihim CiDi bass fi mAy... nxUrah, nilPab... nilPab nPayyin 114, nilPab Hagg il-xabza, vnHaVV kil waHda bEtah li l-maJarb, nilPab min il-PaRir, wilA hOSa wilA Say, bnayyAt u RbayAn maxlUVIn
Text 13: translation S-1 S-10
S-2 S10-2
S-3 S10-3
S-4
112 113 114
What were the playthings they used to bring back? Playthings? Those… wings of those seabirds… they’d get them, catch them… They cut off their wings, washed them, and put (the bodies) in (hot) ash. We’d bring them and stick them (in the ground), these big birds, cormorants, set them up on the tailbone, on that bone… The bone of a cormorant? Yes, we bought…we sewed (clothes) for them, we made (things) for them… we’d make up a woman’s cloak, and an over-mantle for the ‘man’. You mean you made it look like a little bride? Yes, like a little bride with a bridegroom, and children with them. We’d make little mirrors, and you’d see how lovely they were! We were very happy in the days when our fathers went pearl diving because of the playthings they brought back for us. This doll set, they made into a ‘happy families’ game, how did you…
i.e. in imitation of a traditional wedding chamber. See the chapter on Marriage. Apparently a synonym of barrUy.The verb is barra ‘to play barrUy’. < nPaGGin
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The ‘happy families’ game was also played with old tins… How? We’d put them out and play with them—tins… we’d take onion (peelings) and weeds, and I don’t know—whatever our families threw away— and we’d make a ‘stew’ for them in which there was just water… we’d play at stirring it, we’d play at kneading (dough), and at making up a batch of dough… each of us would maintain his house until sun-set, and we’d play all the afternoon, without any arguments or anything, girls and boys together.
Boys’ games The boys’ games that were played by my informants in the 1930s to 50s were similar to those that many will remember from European childhoods, in which discarded household items, bits of wood and other natural detritus of the preindustrial world were converted into playthings. Examples are gabb u gillIna ‘big stick, little stick’ in which boys competed to hit a small stick (gillIna) with a big stick (gabb) over the longest distance; another was daHrUG/ daHrUy ‘stick and hoop’ in which the rim of an old bicycle- or other metal wheel was rolled along with a stick115. There were several variants on the theme of the spinning or whipping top—dawwAma and HambUR116— in which a small piece of wood would be planed smooth (yisaHtUnah117) in a conical shape, sometimes with a metal tip (nibla118). The tops were either whipped or spun, in the first case (HambUR) by winding a string (xEV) attached to a stick tightly around the top, setting the top on the ground, and setting it spinning by a sharp movement of the whip (miswAga). Once spinning, the top could be whipped again, the string wrapping itself around the top, and allowing the player once more to impart momentum through the whip. The dawwAma involved a string wound tightly from the bottom to the top of the spinning top, with the other end passed between the small (xinRar) and ring (binRar) fingers. The top, held between the thumb and first finger, was then released from the hand with a sharp motion similar to that which sets a yo-yo in motion, landing on the ground on its metal pivot (nibla). Boys competed with each other to see whose top ‘died’ (mAt, gaffaB) last. A variation on this is described in the text below. Marbles (it-tIla), described below, was also a popular, year-
115 In CLA daHraGa means ‘to roll’; note the similar southern Iraqi form daHrUya ‘egg’ in KHUZ (I) 547. 116 Variants HanbUR, HalbUR.. These games are known by the same names in southern Iraq (DAL 62-66). In CLA, HanbaRa means ‘to dodge, slope off during a war’. 117 Cf CLA saHHata ‘to shave completely’. 118 Possibly from Eng nipple; nibil < Eng nipple is used to refer to one of the machine parts in an irrigation pump.
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round boys game, as were all kinds of ball game (timba). There was also a popular game not unlike ‘pitch and toss’, played by men as well as boys, called il-kOna or il-kAna. A cup-sized hole was dug in the ground, and the players attempted to pitch coins or other small pieces of metal into the hole. Those that missed the hole could be won by the players pitching a metal disk, known as gEs, and hitting the coins which missed the hole without the gEs or the coins falling into it119. The game known as lagfa120, played by both boys and girls is similar to ‘jacks’: five stones, held in one hand, are thrown in the air, and caught on the back of the throwing hand as they descend. The idea is to first catch one, then two stones, etc on the back of the hand, throw them into the air and catch them as they fall in the open hand, at the same time as picking up the remaining stones from the ground. Text 14: Speaker 162: Al-Mukh¸rga, Man¸ma (m2/2) The speaker, from the largest B urban quarter, is in his 30s, had a primarylevel education, and worked as a butcher in the main abattoir. Here he describes the games he played as a boy: dawwAma, HambUR, tIla and others. S162
119
yOm iHna GihAl, laPabna t-tIla u d-dawwAma, u l-HambUR u s-sakkUn... u nilPab, Sismah, yOmiyya hAdi, min inGi min il-madrasa ilEma il-maJarb... killvh ila Hna fi V-VarIg [*] ... u fi l-lEl, nrAGiP drUsna... laPabt it-tIla yOmiyya, aksib lI xams imiya, sitt imiya...u laPabna il-HambUR wi d-dawwAma illi VVabbib fi hADAk il-Gifra...u vnkassir u nSallix id-dawAwIm mAl rabaPna... PAd id-dawwAma nAxid Sismah il-PaRa narbuV fIha xEV, u nfirr id-dawwAma, wa... nilPab... Say wAHid, yifirrha121... lEma... illi mA yifirrha, u lE yigaffiB122, yiHuVVUn dawwAmtah fi l-wasVa... PAd ida Vabbat dAxil il-Gifra, dIk is-sAPa kil wAHid yiBrub PaSar BirbAt fIha... amma s-sakkOn, nSaxxiV fi l-arB u nilPab, nilPab is-sakkOn Sikil mA hAda, Sikil il-banAt al-HIn, mA yilPabOn, iHna nilPab, awwal...PAd il-HambUR, nilPab il-HambUR, hAdi GarIda nHuVV fIha xEV, wi nuBrub il-HambUR ngUl “yallah,
The same game is described for Kuwait (HAN 292). In Kuwait lagRa, in Baghdad Ragla. 121 farr in eastern Arabia and Iraq ‘to spin, rotate, flip (a coin)’ as well as ‘to go hither and thither’. 122 gaffaB/ gaffaF ‘to end, die out’, recorded only for B speakers, and not in any other dictionary of glossary of Arabian vocabulary, though in southern Yemen the probably related variant qawwaB is ‘to end, finish’ (GLOS 2539) and in Oman ‘to finish and depart’ (BRO 181). The related gaffal/ Gaffal also means ‘to end, bring to an end’, and is mainly used in the context of the ending of the pearling season (il-guffAl). 120
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l-vmPallim, giddAmna l-vmPallim”... wi t-tIla, nibHaf 123[*] fi l-arB, u nilPab... illi yidaxxil Sismah, huwa illi yiksib ... u nilPab SIr xaVV124 min it-tiyal—PAd it-tIla ida laPabna, SIr, hAy raGGAl, ROb ir-raGGAl illi fi... bEzAt hindiyya kAnat awwal... nilPab vbha...fIh Sikil rAs raGGAl, hu hAda S-SIr, u galbat il-fAnya125, xaVV... ha-S-Sakil nilPab... aCUf wAHid yiHuVV— aGmaP126 it-tiyal, u iHna nfurr al-bEzAt, u nRVuff fOg il-arB127... PAd SUf, umma hazzah, ida hazzah, nuPVi gadd il-vtyal... ida mA hazzah, nAxid l-vtyal...PAd, u nilPab iR-RiPgEP, wi S-SaPrUr128... u ninxaSS ... u swIda rAs... ida Sakil wAHid minxaSS u rAsah yibayyin, ngUl lih “swIda rAs”, yaPni rAsik aswad yibayyin... u R-RiPgEP nilPab fi l-farIg... ida wAHid RAd wAHid, yigUl “RiPgEP!”, ha-l-lOn.
Text 14: translation S162
When we were kids, we played marbles and spinning-top, and whipping-top and hopscotch… and we’d play these games, you know, every day, from the time we came home from school until the evening… we were constantly in the street [*]… and at night, we’d revise our lessons… I played marbles every day, I’d win myself five hundred, six hundred… and we played whipping-top and spinning-top, the one that falls in the hole, and we’d break and smash the tops that belonged to our friends… now, spinning tops— we took a stick and attached a string to it, and we’d spin the top, and play… first thing, he’d spin it… until… and there was another one who didn’t spin his… and when (the first top) stopped spinning, they’d put that top in the middle… if it fell inside the hole (when it finished spinning), everyone would hit it ten times… as for hopscotch, we scratched (the pitch) on the ground and played, we played hopscotch like the girls do now, we used to play it in the old days… as for whipping-top, we played that, it was a palm-stick
123 < baHaT ‘to dig, scrape (earth)’. This is the exact same sense as the basic CLA meaning of this root. In Bahrain it is only a B word in this physical sense, but it also used like this in the lower Gulf and Oman (HANZ 71, BRO 54). 124 SIr xaVV is used for ‘heads or tails’ throughout the Gulf region and Iraq. Although in the speaker’s description SIr was a man’s head, the word is Persian for ‘lion’, originating in Iranian coinage which had the lion as ‘heads’; xaVV, apparently in the sense of ‘writing’. 125 i.e. galbat iT-TAnya. This construction, in which adjectival complementation is treated as if it were an iBAfa is not uncommon in the Gulf dialects. 126 This was not very clear on the tape, but it seems to be an attempt at an ‘educated’ form. 127 The idea seems to be that the players spun coins to decide on the order of turns 128 A boys’ game involving teams based in ‘dens’ (marAkiz) that chase and attack each other when caught outside the den, but cannot when they are safe in the den.
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chapter six which we tied a string to, and we whipped the top with it, saying ‘Come on, it’s the teacher, (imagine) it’s the teacher that’s before us!’… And marbles, we scratched out a shallow hole in the ground, and played… the one who knocked the what-d’you-call-it (into the hole), won the game… and we tossed heads-or-tails for the marbles… when we played marbles, heads was a man, the side with a man on, which… there were Indian baisa coins in the old days, which we played with… there was the form of a man’s head, ‘heads’ (on one side), and on the other, ‘tails’… that’s how we played… I’d see one boy putting all the marbles together, and we’d spin the coins, and line up (to take turns) on the pitch… then, see, if he hit (the marbles), if he hit them, we’d give him the amount of marbles (he’d hit)… if he missed, we’d take (his) marbles…then there was hide-and-seek and SaPrUr... we would hide… and there was ‘blackhead’, meaning that the black of your hair could be seen… and hide-and-seek which we played in the neighbourhood… if someone caught someone else, he’d shout ‘RiPgEP’ like that…
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CHAPTER SEVEN
WORK The chapters on Pearl diving and Agriculture deal in detail with the two most important occupations of pre-industrial Bahrain. In this chapter we are concerned with some of the other jobs of the time, and also with the impact of modern industry and wage-labour, which first came to Bahrain in the 1930s with the discovery of oil. At that time many occupations, such as those of tailor (dirzI), barber (muHassin), carpenter (naGGAr), butcher (GazzAr, gaRRAb), blacksmith (HaddAd), shipwright (gallAf), fish-seller (GazzAf ), water-seller (saggAy), itinerant grocer (baggAl) and certain highly skilled occupations like goldsmith (RAyiJ) were entirely the preserve of the Ba¥¸rna, and it was considered shameful (Payb) for {Arab to perform them. But new industrial concerns like the oil company, run by westerners with no understanding of the local social order, were more interested in an employee’s ability to do get the job done than in his sectarian affiliation. So, as well as eventually putting an end to many traditional occupations like diving, the advent of the oil industry led to a much greater degree of {Arab-Ba¥¸rna mixing in the work place than was true of pre-industrial Bahrain, as we noted in the commentary on the 1930s debate-poem at the conclusion of Pearl diving. Farmers, shipwrights, carpenters and fishermen flocked to the oil-company to find work and soon found that working there was a more secure and round-year form of employment. The pearl divers soon followed, attracted by the easier and safer working conditions and the regular fortnightly pay. However, there was a period of transition, and even until recently, as we saw in chapter 2, it was common in the Ba¥¸rna villages for the older generation of men to continue to farm their allotments in their spare time while working shifts at BAPCO or ALBA. The extracts that follow give a flavour of the conditions and attitudes of those decades of transition—the 1930s to the 1960s—in the words of those who lived through them. Texts 1-3 are all accounts of work at the Bahrain Petroleum Company (BAPCO) in its early days. A frequent topic for comment and anecdote was the behaviour of the largely British management of the time. For many ordinary Bahrainis, this was the first time they had come into close contact with Europeans, and many commented on the unaccustomed fair treatment they got. There were also many amusing incidents and cross-cultural misunderstandings recounted, some reproduced here.
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Text 1: Speaker 150: al-Ý¢ra, Man¸ma (m2/6): when BAPCO first opened S150, aged 48 and from the A community, was working as a school farrAS when interviewed by T, a teacher at the school where he worked. Between 1932 when oil was first discovered, and the beginning of the 1950s, the number of pearling boats fell from 2,000 to 20 as the divers and pullers defected en masse to the oil industry. During the 1940s, the ‘betwixt and between’ period to which the text below relates, many divers would dive during the season from May to September and seek casual labour at BAPCO during the winter guffAl ‘close season’. The sea captains and boat owners used the loan system (see Pearl diving) to put financial and moral pressure on the divers to return to their boats in the summer, which many of them felt duty bound to do. T-1 S150-1 T-2 S150-2
T-3 S150-3 T-4 S150-4 T-5 S150-5 T-6 S150-6 T-7 S150-7
zEn, il-awwal, yaPni, miTil mA tigUl gabil il-yibal 1Di, kAnu in-nAs miPtamdIn Pala l-JOR Pala l-JOR, E yOm VilaP iS-SuJul fi l-yibal, SlOn ittiGAh in-nAs yaPni? ittiGAh in-nAs mub Padil Hagg iS-Sarika... min iRIr mUsim iS-Sarika, l-iSta, ddiSS mAl Pamal iS-Sarika... u lEn GirIb2 in-nAs biddiSS il-JOR, fanniSat3 fanniSat liQannvhum mAxiD tisgAm4 u Di, kil yOm fanniSaw u rAHO l-JOR yaPni PalEhum Valab? PalEhum Valab u baPFhum twallah5 fi l-JOR zEn, yaPni, miTil mA tigUl, iV-Valab mumkin hAy yiStaJil fi S-Sarika u yihidd iV-Valab6 illi PalEh lA yigUl hADi “Ana AxiD tisgAm”... taJrIban illi yabbi, yaPVIh yaPVIhum Girda7... yaPni yAxiD Girda Pala asAs innvh— Girda, u myawdvh, yiHkumvh DAk Sismvh in-nOxaDa mA yixalli yiStaJil barra? lA! miTil mA tigUl, mAxiD tisgAm... amma yisallim bEzAt—
1 BAPCO continues to be known simply as iS-Sarika ‘the Company’ or il-yibal ‘the Mountain’, so-called because of the proximity of its main office and oil field to the rocky outcrop Gabal duxAn or ‘Smoke Mountain’ (122 m high) in the centre of the main island. 2 G < g. garIb b- + ps verb is ‘to be about to do s’thing’ 3 fannaS < Eng finish ‘to quit’ or, transitively, ‘to fire’. The 3rd fem sing verb is not unusual with human plurals like nAs when the reference is generic rather than to particular ‘people’. 4 This is the first of three loan-payments made to divers, made at the end of the season in September to tide them over until the beginning of the next season, the following May. See Pearl diving. 5 ‘to be infatuated with, passionate about s’thing’. The adjective is walhAn. 6 yihidd iV-Valab here ‘to discharge the debt’. hadd normally means ‘to release; leave, abandon’. 7 An educated gloss of tisgAm, probably because T thinks I may not understand the latter term.
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zEn bass mA dAm Ana AStaJil fi S-Sarika, maPnAtvh baHaRRil rAtib basallim il-flUs lAzim idiSS, ifanniS lAzim... illi mAxiD yitPahhad... ila yigUl “baPVIk, lAkin lAzim iddiSS wiyyAy”... hnAk fi S-Sarika, mA tiHarriGvh... baPadEn lEn gaffal, ityi tAxiD nimra8 u tiStaJil yaPni maftUH lih? E, maftUH lih... marratEn, TalAT, arbaP
Text 1: translation T-1 S150-1 T-2 S150-2
T-3 S150-3
T-4 S150-4 T-5 S150-5 T-6 S150-6 T-7 S150-7 T-8
Right, now… in the old days, as you might say, before ‘the Mountain’ (got established), people were dependent on pearl diving… On pearl diving, yes. When jobs first became available at ‘the Mountain’, what was people’s attitude? People’s attitude towards the Company wasn’t right. When the ‘Company’ season came round, in the winter, people would go and work there… and when it got near the pearl diving season, they’d quit. They quit. Because they had taken a loan payment (at the end of the previous pearling season) and so on, so any day they’d just quit and go off to fish for pearls. They had an outstanding debt against them? They had a debt, and anyway, some of them were passionate about diving. OK, but I mean, as you might say, this debt—(the debtor) could work at the Company and thereby discharge the debt he had. No, he’d say, ‘I’ve taken a loan’… the men he (the captain) wanted to keep on, he would give a loan to. He gave them a loan… (the diver) accepted a loan on the basis that he— A loan, and he could hold onto him… that, what’s-his-name, captain had control over him. Wouldn’t he allow him to work outside? No! As you might say, he’d accepted a loan… either he paid the money back— Right, but if I’m working at the Company, that means I’m getting a salary and I can pay the money off.
8 The ‘employee number’ given by BAPCO to each labourer that identified him should he return. See text 2 below.
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chapter seven He had to go pearling (when the season came), he had to quit (the Company)… anyone who took (the loan) had thereby pledged himself… (the captain) would say ‘I’ll give you (a loan) but you have to come pearling with me.’…There at the Company, they wouldn’t make it difficult for him… later, at the end of the pearling season, you could come back and get your employee number and work again. (The job) was kept open for him? Yes, kept open… twice, three, four times. Text 2: Speaker 8: Budayya{ (m1/44): a misunderstanding
S8, an elderly D¡sirº, here tells an amusing if slightly scurrilous anecdote about his early days as a member of a gang of labourers at BAPCO as it was in the mid-1930s. The anecdote, which S8 tells against himself, turns on his naivety, as a young man, in being fooled by his workmates about the meaning of a certain English word. The other speaker, S, is his nephew. S8-1
9
fi S-Sarika Pindvna wAHid yigAl lih9 “dOxati”, ir-raQIs, dOxati, wAHid lih SinabAt, “mistar dOxati”... ana kint fi R-RubuJ... Pindvna RAHib mAlna yigAl lih “wadkin”... il-fOrman, wAHid PaGmi, yaPni, ismvh mHammad...u Pindvna tindEl10, wAHid yigAl lih PibEd, hADi illi mAl il-Payam... PibEd baPad illi yigAl lih, hu, Pabdallah11... zEn... fi marra min l-amrAr, gAlO li “yA abu Pali12, yA mHammad bin PumrAn, hAk, hADi l-JUri13, waddvh Hagg l-vbnayya”— wallah, salmAn14, tJarbalt, lAkin agUl lik il-Hagg— ”waddvh Hagg l-vbnayya, u gUl liha “give me fuck” [general laughter] ana DIk is-sAPa daCCa15, mA vParf, killiS mA vParf, RidG RidG! Ana ayi, isallimk allah, “yA?” 16 git liha “taPAlay! taPAlay!” git liha “hADa l-JUri, PaVIna gVErat fuck” “Go, go, go!” u taRfig il-bAb... al-HIn il-malAPIn minnAk mAtaw Palay min iF-FuHuk... hAy baPad il-fOrman wiyyAhum
One of the commonest ‘frozen’ uses of the internal passive in the A dialect. This old Indian word occurs as tandIl in Ibn Ba««¢«a’s RiHla. It is < Malayalam tanBal, originally ‘petty officer’ in naval parlance. In early 20th century eastern Arabian industrial terminology, tindEl is a ‘shift supervisor’ one rank below fOrman ‘foreman’, or simply any ‘head of a gang of labourers’ (kUliyya). 11 i.e. PibEd was his nickname. 12 This is odd, as abu Pali is normally the nickname for anyone called Hasan or HusEn; the nickname for mHammad (S8’s given name) is abu GAsim. 13 ‘A kettle for boiling tea’ < U. 14 The name of his nephew, who was present. 15 Lit ‘stone step’ in front of a house; metaphorically used for ‘ignoramus’. 16 i.e. ‘Yes?’, the English girl’s response when S8 walked into her office. 10
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baPad!... zEn... u ittimm lik17 “lA, lA, lA” ... sawwat tilifUn... yAt yA GimAPa u xaRRatni xaRR18...PAd Ana DIk is-sAPa txabir19 mA fIni SaPar20 wi lA baPad... SabAb yaPni lAkin mA dri wallah, mA Pa bAli innah PalEha maRUxa21, E, mA vParf... gAmat u gAlat Hagg iR-RAHib mAlna “CUf! hADAk!”... yAni gAl li “mHammad?” git “naPam” gAl “yallah! wOt ya namba?”... “lES?” gAl “gOlat hafIz22” git lih “lES?”Ana agUl Hagg ir-rabiP “S-igUl?”yigUl yaPni PaVvh n-nimra...”nzEn, ismaP PAd, inta lES ityi Hagg il-bint u tigUl “PaVIna— ”... S-git liha int?” git lih “Ana git liha “PaVIna fuck”... gAm baPad vhuwwv hADAk “gAAA!” HammalOni, Ana u RifirVAsi23... lAkin agUl lik, il-Hagg yaPni yaPla! wEn waddOk, iS-SurVa? lA, waddOni l-hafIz... yAbOni Pind mistar dOxati... Pindvh walad SAbb, ismvh Pabd il-PazIz... DAk il-walad SmUm24... gAm tirAVan25 maPa R-Rbay... gAl “gUl Hagg il-HaGGi” Gid26 PAd Pugub mA ya, gAm iR-RAHib mAlna u riVan Pala... wAHid ismvh dOxati, yaPni ir-raQIs il-POd... gAl lI iR-Rbay “S-git Hagg il-bint illi baJEt minha yaPni, yOm inta yAy Hagg il-JUri vbha, S-git liha?” git “wallah, ir-rabiP27 gAlO lI... gAlaw “hAy il-JUri, u rUH gUl liha “PaVIna fuck””...gAl “hA? ay rabiP?” git “awwalhum il-fOrman” gAl “il-fuck Sinhu?”git lih “il-fuck mAy!”... gAm iR-Rbay yisOlif Pala Di... Pindvhum muxx, Pindvhum Pagil, mub iHna l-Parab, bass “gum, gum, gum!” lA! ana agUl “fuck”— mAy! gAl “mA yixAlif”... zEn,
17 The ‘ethic dative’ a commonly employed device to involve the listener in the narrative (see SAL 22). 18 Here xaRR ‘to pick out, identify, finger’. The echoic structure, common in all Bahrainis dialects, is there to strengthen the expression. 19 An unusual verb for ‘to know’ in the mouth of an A speaker, and also showing the effect of the A-exclusive ghawa-syndrome. This lexical item is normally associated with B village speakers. 20 Here = ‘facial hair’. The speaker is emphasising how young he was. 21 Also in Bahrain timERax ‘to insult obscenely, slag off’. In Baghdad, maRAxa is ‘a dirty, unpleasant thing’ and muRax ‘to upbraid, scold’. 22 < Eng office. The word was originally used for any western-style office, and later applied to modern western-style shops with large display windows. 23 RifirVAs is a workman’s lunch-box, a set of metal containers one fitting inside the other. The origin is possibly Pers Rufr VAs ‘copper dish’. The clear intention at this point was for S8 to collect all his things before the company dismissed him. 24 Cf CLA QaSamm ‘high-born, haughty’. SmUm is a word with positive connotations here: ‘decent, gentlemanly’. 25 riVan and its Theme VI tirAVan mean ‘to talk unintelligibly, gabble’, and by extension ‘to talk in a foreign language’. 26 Gid is one of several dialectal reflexes of the CLA particle qad. Here, its function is the anteriorisation of the action (= pluperfect), but in other cases the meaning is epistemic. For more examples of the use of these reflexes in Bahrain see Vol I 415, and see QAD for a discussion of their relationship to CLA qad and qaV. 27 rabiP is loosely any community, group, gang of which one is a member.
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chapter seven baJOha, gAlaw “taPAlay! hADi l-xaVa humb 28 min hADi...illi Pindvh l-xaVa hAD illi gAlO lihum yaPni... hu yaPni maTalan sabbiC bi l-inglEzi?” gAlat “lA, bass gAl lI il-kalAm hADi” sawwa PAd, agUl lik... wallah, yA salmAn, innah gAm yisibb u yakfur fi Gismvh, il-fOrman... iV-VarIfa29, silimt Ana... RAr il-intiGAm min Di, il-fOrman... gAl “intaw SlOn awAdim iVVarriSUn il-faGIr DI?” git “naPam, Ana git liha lAkin gidhum30 gAylIn lI yaPni, “rUH u gUl liha “PaVIna—”” yaPni Sinhu il-fuck? git “il-fuck yaPni l-mAy!” taPVIni fi l-JUri...
Text 2: translation S8-1
S-1 S8-2
28 29 30
At BAPCO, there was this man called ‘Docherty’, the boss… Docherty, a man with a moustache, this Mr Docherty… I was working as a painter… our (immediate) chief was a man called ‘Watkins’… the foreman was a Persian, whose name was Mu¥ammad… and we had a gang-boss, a man called {Ubayd, a Persian—{Ubayd, who was also known as {Abdallah… Right… one time, they said to me ‘Hey, Abu {Alº, Mu¥ammad {Umran, take this kettle to that girl’— By God, Salm¸n, I got all confused, but what I’m telling you is the truth—‘Take it to the girl and say to her ‘Give me fuck”[general laughter] At that time, I was completely ignorant, I didn’t know (what it meant), I had no idea, that’s the truth, the truth! Anyway, I went…and (she said) ‘Yes?’ so I said ‘Come here! Come here!’ and ‘This kettle, can you give me a drop of ‘fuck’ in it?’ (She said) ‘Go, go, go!’ and slammed the door. Now those bastards over there were killing themselves with laughter at me! And the foreman was in on it with them! Right… She kept going ‘No, no, no!’ and made a phone call. She came over and picked me out…at that time, I had no beard or anything. You were still a youth, you mean. But I didn’t know, by God, I didn’t realise that what I’d said to her was a dirty word, no, I didn’t know… So she went and said to our boss, ‘Look! It was him!’ He came up to me and said ‘Mu¥ammad?’ ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘What’s your number?’ ‘Why?’ ‘It’s an order from the office’, he said. I said to him ‘Why?’— I was asking my work-mates (in Arabic) ‘What’s he saying?’ (They replied) ‘Give him your number.’ ‘Right’ (he said) ‘Why did you go up to the girl and say to her ‘Give me—’ …what was it you said to her?’ So I said
mub, muhub, hub, humb are all A-dialect negative particles used in equational sentences. In CLA, ‘the choice part’. Again, gid < CLA qad. Here, again pluperfect ‘they had told me’.
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to him ‘I said to her ‘Give me fuck” So he went ‘Ghaaaa!!!’ as well! So they took me off, me and my whole kit and caboodle… but, I tell you, the truth always comes out in the end! Where did they take you, to the police? No, to the office. They brought me before Mr Docherty. He had a young assistant called {Abdul{azºz… this lad was a decent sort. He (= Docherty) started talking foreign with the lad. He said ‘Tell the Hajji (= the Mu¥ammad, Persian foreman) to come’. And when he came, our boss (= Mr Watkins) started to talk foreign with this Mr Docherty, the big boss. The young lad said to me, ‘What did you say to the girl who you wanted something from, when you came to her with the kettle, what was it you said?’ I said, ‘By God, my work-mates told me to do it, they said ‘Here’s the kettle, now go and say to her ‘Give me fuck”. So he said ‘Which work-mates?’ I said ‘The leader of them was the foreman’. He said to me ‘What is ‘fuck’?’ I said “Fuck’ is water’. The young lad (={Abdul{azºz) started talking to that man (= Mr Docherty)… These (Europeans) have got brains, they’ve got intelligence, not like us Arabs, who would have just shouted ‘Get out, get out, get out!’ No! I said ‘fuck’ meant ‘water’, and he just said ‘OK, never mind’. Right… they sent for her, and said ‘Look, it wasn’t his fault. It was the fault of the ones who told him (to say it). Did he, for instance, insult you in English?’ ‘No’, she said, ‘he just said those words to me.’ That’s what he (= Docherty) did, I’m telling you. And, by God, Salm¸n, then he started cursing and blaspheming at this man, the foreman. Anyway, the upshot was that I got off scot-free. It was the foreman who paid the price. He (= Docherty) said ‘What kind of people are you that send this poor lad off like that?’ I said ‘Yes, I did say that to her, but it was them that had put me up to it, to go and say to her ‘give me a—”… ‘What does ‘fuck’ mean?’ he had asked me, ‘It means water, that she should put in the kettle,’ I had replied! Text 3: Speaker 146: al-Ý¢ra, Man¸ma (m2/6): a good boss
The speaker is aged about 65 and from the A community, originally from ArRif¸{ ash-Shargº, but retired and leaving in a predominantly A quarter of Man¸ma. He had originally been a diver but had joined BAPCO as a labourer when it opened. I is the speaker’s grandson. There were a number of others present who did not speak, but at certain points joined in the general laughter.
286 I-1 S146-1
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chapter seven zEn... u SlOn yaPni, sawAlif mAl awwal, wiyya S-Sarika SlOn? wiyya l-ingrEnzi31u Di? abdan, mistAnsIn min aHsan mA kAn... wiyya l-inglEnzi mistAnsIn... lE bannadna Hagg il-Jada... rAH il-kiCin32, yAb lina l-akil... u kalna, gAl “yallah! Jaslu TyAbkum!” iyIb lina RAbUn, iCwIt33... u naJsil TyAbna... naJsil TyAbna zEn mA zEn34... gAl “naSrUhum!”... lE naSarnAhum, w iybisaw, libasnAhum35, gabil lA iRIr it-tEm... (*********************************************) tammEt wiyyAh... zEn... DIC il-yOm rAH PannA s-sayyAra36... gAl “CEf mA yItaw?” ginna “RAHib, rAHat PannA s-sayyAra, u iHna wEn37 vnyi?” gAl “wEn riHtaw? sawwEtaw GigaGig38?” [general laughter]. (*********************************************) yOm il-xamIs...E, wallah... “Pabdallah?” gAl “taPAl!” gAl “hAk! xams rubbiyAt”... “hAk!” Pali baPad PaVAh...“Hagg xarG likum, hADi xarG likum... maPAS mA miS, hADa xarG min Pindi likum”... ginna “wallah aHsant RAHib”
One of a number of variants: inglEzi, ingrEzi, inglEnzi, PangrEzi are also heard. < Eng kitchen. What is meant is an English-style ‘works kitchen’ or ‘canteen’. Culturally and functionally, the Arabic term maVbax denotes a quite different type of (domestic) space, and the two terms are in no sense equivalents. This type of situational borrowing from English was and is common, especially in modern industrial contexts, as in the following description by a B speaker from alMa{¸mºr (m1/21), describing the job he was doing at BAPCO at the time of this field-work: al-HIn nAxid fi tonki yaPni krUd, maxlUV QAyil u dIzal, u hAy kull Say maxlUV... yaPni nAxdvh min il-bambAt u ndaxlvh fi ikstinGah, miTil Say VawIl yaPni fIh mAy, fIh tyUbAt... baPadEn nxallIh, ndaxlvh dAxil hItar ‘Now we take the crude into the tank, a mixture of oil and diesel, completely mixed… we take it from the pumps and pass it into the exchanger, that’s like a long thing in which there’s water, and tubes… then we leave it, and we pass it into a heater’. The underlined English words in the translation, which the speaker was no doubt used to hearing from English-speaking foremen and others, have simply been adopted wholesale as technical terms in the speaker’s Arabic description. A similar process of cultural contact and borrowing undoubtedly lay behind the adoption of other sets of foreign terms from other languages in specific fields of activity in the past (see Vol I xxx-xxxvii for details of borrowings from Indian languages, Persian, Portuguese). 33 ‘bluing’, a blue-coloured powder which is added to the water in which white clothes are rinsed after washing in order to give them a bluish tinge and make them look extra clean. I recall this being used domestically in the UK until the 1950s and the advent of modern washing powders. The word also occurs in Iraq, with a verb Cawwat ‘to blue’ clothes. AH 186 also gives the meaning ‘indigo’ (of dye). The origin is unclear, although H Cint, CIt (whence English chintz) has been suggested. 34 ‘For dear life’ ‘with as much effort as we could muster’. 35 The point of the anecdote is that work in the oil industry was often very dirty and done in very hot conditions. A boss who helped in this way was much appreciated. 36 sayyAra in the speech of S146’s generation means any petrol-driven vehicle carrying passengers, car, taxi or bus. Here, no doubt, it refers to a workers’ company bus. 37 wEn often means ‘how?’ rather than ‘where?’ 38 This expression is also used in Urdu, presumably whence its use in Bahraini Arabic, as slang for sexual intercourse. It is perhaps a euphemism < Urdu GigI-GigI, an exclamation of surprise and pleasure. 32
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yIna l-bEt mirtAHIn... is-sAPa iHna fi r-rifAP... wallah u istamraFt39 Ana Sway, u yItvh... w ilA yAni anbiViH Pala l-kabat 40 hADi lli yilaHmUn PalEh...gAl “S-fIk Pabdallah?”— yitHaCCa Parabi— git “wallah Ana marIF, humb RAHi”... yarkuF il-hafIz, u iyIb lI Catti41... u yiCUf lI42 mOtir... gAl lI “rUH! tigPid lEn tiRHa... lEn RaHEt, taPAl... gUm rUH il-bEt!”... u tammEt [*] arbaP, xams ayyAm... rAHEt43 lih... gAl “hA, RAHi?” git “wallah, Sway” gAl “Sulih yAy? iStaJil il-yOm, bACir lA tyi! baPad xuD rAHtik”
Text 3: translation I-1 S146-1
S146-2
S146-3
Right… what was it like, the things that happened in the old days, at the Company, like? With the Englishman and that? We were as happy as can be, totally… with that English (boss), we were happy… when we stopped work for lunch… he went to the kitchen, and brought our food… and he said to us, ‘Go on, wash your clothes!’ He’d bring us soap, and ‘bluing’ and we’d wash our clothes… we’d wash them for all we were worth… he’d say ‘Spread them out!’ And when we’d spread them out, and they dried, we put them back on before it was time to start work again. (*********************************************) I stayed (working) with him… Now, on that particular day the bus had gone without us. So he said to us ‘Why didn’t you come (to work)?’ we said ‘Boss, the bus went without us, how could we come?’ So he said, ‘Where did you go, then? Did you go off and have a screw?’ [general laughter]. (*********************************************) It was on a Thursday… yes, by God… ‘{Abdallah?’ he said, ‘come here!’. He said ‘Here’s five rupees for you’… and ‘Here’s for you’— he gave {Alº money as well… ‘This is pocket-money for you, pocketmoney for you… not your salary, this is pocket-money for you out of my pocket’. We said ‘Thanks very much, boss’ and came back home
39 Theme X in BA often has a ‘change of state’ meaning in roots where in CLA the equivalent meaning is expressed by a theme V verb. 40 Like kiCin, another English situational borrowing, presumably < cupboard, from the cupboards built into the sides of the work-bench. 41 A Hindi and Anglo-Indian word for ‘letter’, ‘note’. Cf the British English chitty with the same meaning from the same source. 42 CAf li has the sense ‘find for’. The phrase also occurs in S72-6, text 6 Marriage, where the speaker is asking someone to find a wife for him. 43 An example of a now dying feature of the A dialects—the reduction of all sstem verb forms, including hollow and strong verbs, to a single conjugation on the pattern of weak verbs. See Marriage n. 63.
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chapter seven really happy… At that time we were in ar-Rif¸{... By God, one time I began feeling ill, so I went to (tell) him… When he came to see me, I was lying flat out, on the bench used for welding… He said ‘What’s the matter with you, Abdallah?’—he could speak Arabic—so I said ‘By God, I feel ill, not very well.’ He went running to the office and brought me a note… and he sorted out a car for me… and he said to me ‘Off you go! Stay at home till you’re better. When you’re feeling better, come back… Go on, off home you go!’ So I stayed [*] for four or five days, and then I went back to him. He said ‘So? Are you well now?’ ‘Well, a little bit better’, I said. So he said, ‘Why did you come in then? Work today, but don’t come in tomorrow! Rest up a bit more.’ Text 4: Speaker 128: R¸s Rumm¸n, Man¸ma (m2/5): stone-cutting—a shipwreck
S128 was aged about 60 and from the B neighbourhood of R¸s Rumm¸n. He was an ex-cutter of sea-stone (frUS), a material formerly used in house building. Many years before he had helped in the construction of the original Man¸ma— Mu¥arraq causeway (begun in the 1930s but only completed in 1942) and in the first part of the extract he describes an accident at sea while bringing a boat-load of stone back from the island of Nabºh Õ¸li¥ (m1/27) to the main island. I, the interviewer, is me. I-1 S128-1 I-2 S128-2
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44
mA RAr lvk abadan giBiyya fi l-baHar? ingilab maHmal aw Say ? E wallah, RArat bi l-lEl... wES RAr? allah yisallimk, lEla min il-layAli ana HAmil HaRa... HAmil zAyid Pala l-mAHmal... Hamalt yaPni SaHna zAyda... Pugub mA Hamalt, il-hawa yaPni gAm vSway, Sway, Sway yitarris44... yitarris, yitarris, zayyadt PalEh fi S-SaHna... baPdEn dAr il-hawa Sway, tAris... tarasna45, u vVbaPt 46 ...fi l-lEl... maHHad wiyyAy47... vVbaPt... vVbaPt killiS... aHad wiyyAy mA miS... wi l-mOya VUfAn... mOya guwwiyya yaPni, HAmya48... al-HIn HObal49, maHHad wiyyAy, BalAm... HObal, HObal,
tarras ‘to get stronger and stronger’—a Theme II intensive. Viz ‘we filled up with water’. 46 VubaP ‘to sink’ throughout the Gulf. For a discussion of the possible Semitic, but non-Arabic origin of the word with this meaning, see SEM 274-6. 47 He means that there were no other boats working with him whose crews might have come to the rescue. As becomes clear, there were two other men on board his boat. 48 HAmi normally ‘hot’, but when used in the context of the movement of wind, waves, or current, ‘violent, strong’. 45
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HObal... maHmal SAHin HaRa, yarkis50 lA? ingalbat yaPni... min kufr il-hawa, ingalbat... PAd Rubart, gaPadt fOg buridha51 li R-RubH... Cidi anVur lEn RAr il-AdAn... hADa fi l-JazIr, hADa baPad? JazIr, JazIr! tigdar tisbaH— E, agdar asbaH... bass mA miS lEtAt... lEt mA lEt mA miS... BalAm ... ana aHAris52 bass il-wagt yiRIr53, u ana fOg Baharha... fOg Baharha... fOg Baharha, git lI ana aHAris il-AdAn bass... Rubart li R-RubH Cidi... Cam gazzart Pala Bahrvh Cidi? Cidi HOliyya54 xams sAPa Cidi... E, xams sAPAt... ana gAPid fOgvh anVur bass il-AdAn bass... anVur l-AdAn, bass aHAris il-CawAf55, iCCUf yaPni... PaSAn... git “basbaH” u hAdi... [*] Cift... RAr il-COf, il-PEn wal biha56 tCUf... axadt rUHi ... axadt ana u rabPi sibaHna u yIna Cam wAHid Pidkum? iHna TalATa57... git lEhum laHHad yirUH... giPdu lEn al-HIn yiRIr il-wagt... u killvhum PASaw, mA RAr lihim Say? lA, mA yAhum Say... sibaHna, kil wAHid taPabna b wizArvh, HAVVvh Pala rAsvh, u sibaHna u gilna yallah... kil wAHid yiSIl, yAxiD Pala nafsvh... kil wAHid Pala nafsvh... u wuRalna PAd... baVValna mAl id-dastUr, mAl l-iSrAP, u sibaHna fOgvh... baVValna mAl id-digal, mAl il-farman, baVValnAh u gilna nisbaH fOgvh58 u xalAR fi l-baHar yigUlUn fIh yarAyIr... yihiGmUn Pala n-nAs? yihiGmUn akId... E, fi umm il-HaRam59, fi bu JazAl hnAk... hADa yihIG PalEk u yAkilk akUl... yAkikl akUl, yaPni, mA yiCUfvk yizarrig60 PalEk
‘to roll, rock’. Cf ING 175 HOba ‘to roll when walking’ for Najd. rikas ‘to sink’ as opposed to VufaH ‘to float’. The word also occurs in Oman (BRO 112). 51 burd, originally the ‘side’ of a ship (< Port bordo), but since applied in more general senses, e.g. the ‘side’ of the road, or of a room. The boat, it seems, was submerged on its side. 52 An exclusively B word for ‘to wait’; niVar, which S128 also uses, is used by all. 53 Lit ‘until the time came’. The same turn of phrase is used in S128-7. It sounds slightly odd in this context; presumably ‘until the time came to go’ is meant or ‘until it was light enough’. 54 ‘approximately’, recorded only for this speaker. 55 CawAf and COf, both vns with the sense here of ‘ability to see’ or ‘light enough to see’. 56 wal bi- with pron enc ‘scarcely, barely’. 57 Rather then the expected falAfa: probably an effect of my presence. 58 i.e. the men used pieces of wood they detached from the hull—the bowsprit, the yard and mast—to cling onto and give them extra buoyancy as they swam for the shore. 59 An area of the northeast coast of the main island, between Man¸ma and Jufayr. The name means ‘place of many pebbles’. 60 zarrag, used either transitively or intransitively, has the sense of something moving or being moved quickly, often covertly or silently, e.g. to ‘slip something’ to someone, or as here, to come up on them unawares. 50
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chapter seven byiBrubk... yaryUr61 sayyAfi62 hAD illi sayyAfi, illi Sakal is-sEf, lEh Sakal manAgIr63 hADa, yizarrig PalEk tazrIg... fi bU JazAl ihni... mkawwad, wAyid... liGil, allah yisallimk, yirbaP 64 fi V-VIn65... fi V-VIn yistAnis... u fi hADa... iyawwid ihni fi V-VIn u abdan... yiBrubk u yamSi... yiSigg ryUlvk66... hADa yirbaP wAyid fi V-VIn hu, yistAnis fi V-VIn hu, malPUn
Text 4: translation I-1 S128-1 I-2 S128-2
I-3 S128-3
I-4 S128-4 I-5 S128-5
I-6
61
Did you ever have an accident at sea? Your boat capsized, or anything? Yes, by God, it happened at night. What happened? God save you, one night I was carrying stone… carrying too much for the boat, I had loaded it too heavily… after I’d loaded up, the wind gradually started to get up… it got stronger and stronger, and I’d overloaded the boat… then it changed direction a bit, blowing hard… we filled up with water, and sank… at night… no one was with me. You sank… I sank, completely… there was no one with me… and the waves were like a typhoon… big, strong waves… the boat rocked, no one with me, darkness… it rocked, and rocked and rocked… a boat loaded with stone sinks, right? It turned over… from the strength of the wind, it turned over… anyway, I waited, I sat on its side until morning… I waited like this until the call to prayer. Was it in deep water, as well? Deep, deep! Could you swim— Yes, I could swim… but I had no lights… there were no lights or anything… it was dark…I was waiting for it to be time (to swim), sitting on the ship’s (capsized) bottom… on its bottom… I said to myself ‘I’ll just wait until the call to prayer’ … I waited like that until morning. How long did you spend waiting?
i.e. GarGUr ‘shark’. y < G is normal in R¸s Rumm¸n. Heard so. The adjective pattern faPPAli is common in the Gulf dialects and also occurs in Iraq (BLA 85), and is especially used for describing bodily attitudes, e.g. rawwAsi ‘head-first’, gaPPAdi ‘in a sitting position’, waggAfi ‘in a standing position’, and the speaker himself goes on to gloss the word as Sakal is-sEf ‘like a sword’. EADS 134 has sayyAfa ‘saw fish’. 63 Pl of mingAr ‘beak, bill’, meaning that the fish’s teeth are of a similar shape. 64 rabaP ‘to inhabit, stay’, also used in this sense in southern Arabia (GLOS 1070). 65 Formerly, mud from Bu Ûaz¸l was used instead of soap for washing clothes. 66 In R¸s Rumm¸n, this is the singular form, pl rayAyil. In many B villages, the sing is rGUla, pl raGAyil. The normal A form is rIl pl ryUl. 62
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About five hours or so… yes, five hours… just sitting there, waiting for the call to prayer… waiting for the call to prayer, just waiting for light to be able to see, so that you could see… so that… I said to myself ‘I’ll swim for it’, and so on…’ [*] I could see, there was light to see, the eye could just about see… I took myself… I took myself and my mates, and we swam for it and made it back. How many were with you? We were three… I told them no one should go… that they should stay where they were until it was time to go. And did they all live, nothing happened to them? No, nothing happened to them. We swam. We all got tired with our loincloths on, so we tied them onto our heads, and starting swimming, and off we went. Each of us removed something (from the boat), took something for himself, everyone for himself… and we got there (= to shore)… we detached the bowsprit, and the mainsail, and swam on top of it… we detached the mainmast, and the lateen yard, we detached it and said ‘we’ll swim on top of that’, and it was fine. They say there are sharks in the sea… do they attack people? They certainly do… yes, at Umm il-Ýaªam, there, at Bu Ûaz¸l… it’ll attack you and bite lumps out of you… bite lumps out of you… As soon as it sees you, it’ll come up on you to attack … the shark like a sword, the one that’s like a sword, the shape of a sword, (with teeth) like birds’ beaks, it’ll come up on you… here, at Bu Ûaz¸l… there’s loads of them, lots… because, God save you, they live in the mud, they like it in the mud… and in that…it stays here in the mud, and never—… it attacks you and goes… it rips your leg…it stays in the mud a long time, it likes it there, the damned thing. Text 5: Speaker 46: Barbar (m1/4): coastal fishing
Fishing was formerly carried out in a number of ways: with cast-nets (sAliya, pl sAliyAt, sawAli67); with fixed in-shore nets set up in shallow water which trap the fish when the tide goes out (Sarx pl SrUx68); with a line (xEV) and hook (miGdAr/ mIdAr), a process known as HadAg (verb Haddag); and in traps of two basic kinds— the moveable gargUr (pl garAgIr)69 or gufaR ‘bee-hive trap’, so-called because of its shape, and the HAFra or HaFra (pl HDUr70), a more complicated fixed structure.
67 68 69 70
Also noted in DON (I) 541 for Oman, HANZ 286 for the lower Gulf. The same term is noted for Kuwait in HAN 196-7, and for the lower Gulf in HANZ 325. This term is used in Bahrain; in the lower Gulf dUbAya is used. HDAr also recorded as a pl in the lower Gulf.
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The ¥¸Fra The HAFra, roughly the shape of an old-fashioned wooden clothes peg, was set up on tidal land (il-baVH) between the point of high and low tide, with the semicircular head of the ‘peg’ pointing out to sea. At high water (tasgi l-mAya), the fish came nearer in to the shore searching for food and, as the tide receded (taTbur il-mAya), swam back towards the sea. As they did so they were caught between the two long wings (maVPam, pl maVAPim) of the HAFra, which were fences made of palm-sticks (GarId/ yirId) held together by palm-coir set at an angle of about 60º to each other, extending a long distance back towards the shore. These wings met in a catching chamber (as-sirr) in the deeper water. Eventually, at low tide, the fish reached the catching chamber, a semi-circular enclosure with a waterfilled depression (Hufra) below it that was 60 to 90 centimetres deep even at low water. There the fish were trapped alive, unable to escape. Fish-traps of this type remained fixed in one location. Most were owned privately rather than by a wagf, and were rented out to fishermen, the rental depending on the quality of the trap and the type of fish caught, which varied from one part of the year to another, and with its position71. In the cadastral survey of 1934, there were 962 HFUr in Bahrain72, but this number had been vastly reduced by the 1970s owing to land reclamation schemes. Fish-traps were often given erotic names73, and it is interesting to note that one superstition associated with them appertained to female fertility/ sterility: as noted in Domestic Life, if a woman recently delivered of a child ate from the first catch of a newly built fish-trap, it was believed that she would jinx it with sterility (iDa kalat min awwal iR-REd Hagg il-HAFra, taCbisha). The garg¢r The gargUr was a more informal arrangement than a HAFra. The fisherman got his garAgIr/ GarAGIr ready, repairing them if necessary (irakkibha, iRalliHha) and put them in a small boat (lanC), usually thirty or so at a time. The crew would take enough food with them for the day. The first thing they did was to find bait (VaPAm) for the traps, often crabs (gabAgIb), small fish such as sardines or anchovy (PUm) and seaweed (generically known as HaSIS74), which they often had to dive for. They then got back into their boat and went further out to sea, having baited the traps with Cinn seaweed (iCannin il-GarAGIr, bArza). The traps were thrown
71 For a full description, with diagrams, of the structure of the Bahraini HAFra and an example of a deed of ownership relating to one, see SERJ (I). 72 KHUR 55. 73 KHUR 53. 74 There are different types that are attractive to different types of fish. A type commonly used in garAgIr is called kinn/ Cinn which looks rather like green wool.
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into the sea, and to every sixth one or so a marker buoy (CIbAl) was attached. The traps themselves, as in the description below, were often tied to coral outcrops (fuSUt), which attract fish. The fish entered through a side opening that led into a conical chamber that was narrower inside than out. Once inside, the fish could not get out and were stranded in the trap. Like the HAFra, the gargUr was originally woven from palm branches (GarId) and fronds (saPaf ), but at the time of this research wire (sIm) was the normal material being used. Twice a day at low water, the owner (ir-rAPi) of the HAFra or gargUr came and collected his catch from the trap (ibArIha). As in the description below, donkeys and carts were usually used to transport the fish back to the shore (il-barr) from the deep-water line. Speaker 46 was a B village farmer aged over 60, but had been a coastal fisherman earlier in his life. I, the interviewer, is me. I-1 S46-1 I-2 S46-2
I-3 S46-3 I-4 S46-4
trUH il-baHar itRId samaC? lA, mA arUH... l-awwal arUH, al-HIn mA akdar.. Sibt... SAyib u PAyib! SlOn VarIqt il-gargUr? hAda l-faSt75.... fi l-bahar faSt, HGAra, minni u minni, u bayAB76... hAda PAd iRRIr l-iHGAra Cidi, wAGid PAd, l-iHGAra... Cidi rAyiH, rAyiH iHGAra Pala ha-l-gadd... u iRRIr miCAnAt77 baPad Cidi bayAB ilEn yingil il-gargUr, minni HGAra u minni HGAra, vnHuVV il-gargUr ihni, fi l-wasVa, u nrubVvh biha, vb Habil... vnHuVV fIh HaSIS, HaSIS min il-baHar, vnHuVVvh fIh... wi niVlaP il-barr... il-yOm fAni78 il-mAya, nrUH ndiSS lih bass SlOn, is-samaC yidiSS dAxil? idiSS dAxil u yAkil il-HaSIS... u nGi lih yOm fAni, fIh hAmUr79? lA, RAfi80... hAmUr baPad... lAkin it-taPmIr81 fi l-gargUr dAC82, killvh li
75 faSt specifically denotes an area of seabed where rock and coral (PirSAn) is plentiful, which is the best kind of environment for catching good quality fish. 76 bayAB is a sandy stretch of seabed. Without any rocks or coral, only poor quality fish, such as the luxma ‘sting ray’ are likely to be caught; in muddy sea-beds, mainly GarGUr ‘shark’ and related species such as the sayyAfa ‘saw-fish’, which, along with crab, octopus and any fish without scales, the Ba¥¸rna will not eat. 77 C < k in this word is typical only of the B village dialects; the A dialects have mukAnAt with u instead of i under the influence of the labial, and backed and rounded A. 78 When made definite, yOm fAni ‘next day’ is treated in the B dialect as if it were a single item: il-yOm fAni ‘the next day’, not il-yOm il-fAni. 79 A common and very popular fish, often eaten with rice: maCbUs Pala hAmUr 80 The term covers a range of fishes of the bream-snapper group, rabbitfish (also called ‘spinefoot’) being the commonest Gulf variety. 81 taPmIr here means the way the trap is prepared and set-up with bait. 82 In the all B dialects, this word normally has k not C.
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chapter seven R-RAfi... il-HaBra83, il-HaBra lA... RRId RAfi, gargufAn84, badH85, sbEViyya,86 hAmUr, kil Say, kil Say... wi l-awwal, yOm abUy mawGUd, nibni HaBra... HBUr... hna... u hAda adiSS Pala l-vHmAra, l-awwal Pidna HmAra u adiSS Pala HmAr... amma maSi bPId bi l-baHar, lA mA agdar... li... l-garAgIr, garAgIr nrUH fi lanS87... u in CAn riHt il-garAgIr, aHawwil... mu baPId... u yiriddUn yimurrUn Paliyyi, u arkab... al-HIn PAda88 PiGizt, Sibt!
Text 5: translation I-1 S46-1 I-2 S46-2
I-3 S46-3 I-4 S46-4
83
Do you go fishing in the sea? No I don’t go… I used to, but now I can’t… I’ve got too old… old and infirm! How do beehive fish-traps work? There are these coral outcrops… in the sea there are coral outcrops, rocks, all over the place, and stretches of sand with no rocks…so these rocks are positioned here— lots of them, these rocks—stretching away, this size… and there are places too that are sandy with no rocks, big enough to take a bee-hive fish-trap… there are rocks here, and rocks here, so we put the fish-trap here, in the middle, and we tie it to the rocks with rope… We put seaweed in it and we go back to the shore… the next day, after the tide (has gone out), we go back into the sea to it. But how does it work, do the fish go inside it? They go inside and eat the sea-weed… when we go back the next day, they are in it. Grouper? No, snappers… groupers too… but the way we set up that trap is just to catch snappers… with the (permanent) fish-trap, no—it catches snappers, bream, silver-biddy, silver pomfret, grouper, everything,
B pronunciation of HAFra. Another type of Gulf sea bream, which comes in several varieties, a common one being the golden-finned bream. 85 The whipfin silver-biddy, another common Gulf fish. 86 The silver pomfret. The normal sing and coll is sbEVi. This would appear to be a pl form. 87 Nowadays, this term denotes a small boat with an outboard motor at the back used for fishing, but at the period S46 is referring to, there would have been no outboard motor. AGU 44 traces the origin of the term not to the English launch as I give it in Vol I 483, but ultimately to Malay lanchar ‘swift’. The term lanchara meaning ‘a kind of small vessel’ is often mentioned in Portuguese histories of the area of the 16th and 17th centuries (HOB 502). Portuguese is the source of quite a number of terms relating to shipping and parts of ships in the Gulf dialects, and it may well be the source of lanS/ lanC/ lanG all of which occur as variant forms in Bahrain and other parts of the Gulf. 88 A variant of PAd, also heard in the Mu¥arraqi village of D¹r (m1/10). 84
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everything… in the old days, when my father was alive, we would build a permanent trap… traps… here … and I’d go to that on the she-donkey… in the old days we had a she-donkey, and I’d go on that… but as for going far out to sea on foot, no, I couldn’t go… to the bee-hive traps, to them we’d go in a small fishing boat … and if I went to the beehive traps, I’d get out of the boat, not far away… and then they’d come back and pass by, and I’d get back on board… but now, I can’t do it, I’m too old! Text 6: Speaker 55: Abu Bh¸m, near Bil¸d al-Qadºm (m1/6): working for the Water Board Speaker 55 was probably between 50 and 60 years old. He had begun his working life at the age of 10 as a farm-help to his father, and later worked for BAPCO and for the Water Board (dAyrat al-miyAh) as a labourer before retiring and going back to working full-time on his allotment farm. In this extract he is recalling his time as a labourer for the Water Board. AIH-1 S55-1
AIH-2 S55-2
89
Pumrvk il-HAli iGi wES? wallah ana al-HIn maktUb89 sittIn, hAdAkha maktUb sittIn... biHEf ahbAbi90 ana xamsIn sana, al-HIn xallOna Pala t-taqAPud, il-awwal ana fi dAyrat il-miyAh... awwal mA hAdAk, taQassas baPad hAda l-QAyil91, ana fi l-QAyil, Pind daxtar snO92...tAli ValaPt Pan daxtar snO, Rirt ihni Pind hAdAk, dAyrat il-miyAh dAyrat il-miyAh illi fi l-blAd? lA, hnAk fi l-manAma... zEn, fi l-manAma ViHt marIB ana falAf sinIn, sbItAr hni, Pind “huda”93... ana RaHEt, yAbOni94 ihni fi l-iblAd
S55 is probably referring to his social security document. ahbAb and hbAb occurred two or three times in B village texts in the sense of ‘extent’ or ‘the sum’ of the parts of something. GLOS 2843 gives habAb as ‘short space of time, moment’ in southern Arabia. See text 6, Marriage, n. 119. 91 QAyil (or PAyil) is an arabicisation of English oil and denotes ‘engine oil, lubricating oil’. It is not usually used to refer to the Bahrain Oil Company, which is called iS-Sarika or il-Gabal/ il-yibal. However, the word taQassas suggests S55 is indeed referring to BAPCO, reflected in the translation. It is also possible, however, that he means he was working in the ‘maintenance section’ of a garage housing vehicles used by Dr Snow’s medical team (see next note). 92 This seems to be a reference to Dr R.H.B. Snow, appointed Bahrain’s Senior Medical Officer in April 1940, and responsible for setting up the Government Hospital. I can only assume that S55 is confusing him with another westerner working at BAPCO at the time. As becomes clear in his next turn in the conversation, S55 had spent three years in and out of hospital as a youth, and would certainly have come into contact with Dr Snow there. 93 Possibly the name of a nurse who tended him. 94 y < G. Not a normal phonological change in the B dialect spoken in the area S55 is from, and 90
296 AIH-3 S55-3
AIH-4 S55-4
AIH-5 S55-5 AIH-6 S55-6
AIH-7 S55-7 AIH-8 S55-8 AIH-9
chapter seven fi d-dAyra mAl il-miyAh E. al-HIn taQassaso hAdAk95, yigUlUn “iS-SiyAb mA fIhum Sadda yiStaJilUn”... inn iS-SiyAb mA fIhum Sadda, lA? CAn hu hAdAk, CAn mA nikdar96 niStaJil, nrawwIh... l-vSJil HaGGi al-HIn iS-SAyib yiStaJil azyad min l-vRbay! al-HIn l-vRbay illi yitxaSSaS! hAda RArat Pindna hni, Pind dAkha—Pind hAdi, d-dAyra mAl GawAzAt97 ihni, minha ROb il-GinUb... hnAk, hAdAkha, ngiRR SawAriP... wi l-... SawAriP mAl baladiyya98, wallah HGAra Pala ha-l-gadd Cidi... wallah rabbvk, Pala ha-l-gadd wi hAy in-niPma99! OhO! tigiRRUnhum Pala wES, HaGGi? PalaSAn il-bEbAt li l-mAy? li l-mAy... u lEHa100, wES agUl lik lEHa da l-gOd101 vngawwimha, bi gazamAt102...illi SAxat PalEna103, mAlat bEt hAdAk, iS-SAriP mAl il-mistaSAr104, hAdAk SAx PalEna... minni ila hni, mA ngiRRvh, sittat anfAr mA ngiRR ha-l-gOd fi l-yOm il-wAHid yOmiyya PamUd, lO? lA, hAdAk, Cini105 u muVraga mA miS warAwir106 l-awwal?
the only example in the data collected for him. See Language Notes. 95 He is referring to the opening in the early 1970s of Aluminium Bahrain (ALBA). 96 k < q. Not normal for the area from which S55 is from, where the reflex is normally g, as in the B dialects of nearby Man¸ma. See Language Notes. 97 The Passport Office was formerly at the entrance to the Customs Pier. Opposite, to the south, and adjoining the B¸b al-Ba¥rayn, were several government departments. 98 The Man¸ma City Council building, opposite the main sUq. 99 A mild oath, S55 swearing by the food that we were eating for our gudUP. 100 Seemingly (?) a plural of lOH (normally lIHAn) meaning any kind of ‘slab, tablet, plank’. Here S55 seems to be referring to the stone slabs that had to be levered up in order to lay mains water pipes. 101 Glossed locally as ‘size’ (cf gadd), though I was unable to find this in any other glossary or dictionary of the dialects of the area. 102 gazma ‘pick-axe’ < T kazma, which was normally accompanied by a SEwil < Eng shovel and a hIb ‘pinch, crow-bar’. 103 SAx Pala ‘to overwhelm, be too much for’ throughout the Gulf and southern Arabia. 104 i.e. the British ‘Advisor’ to a succession of Rulers of Bahrain between 1926 and 1957, Sir Charles Dalrymple Belgrave. 105 < U CheQoni ‘chisel, punch, piercer’. 106 Sing warwar ‘pneumatic drill, jackhammer’ < Eng revolver, the tool having been first introduced into the area by the British in Iraq. The word is now used throughout eastern Arabia and Oman, and presumably arose because of the similarity of the appearance of revolvers to jackhammers, or perhaps because the staccato sound of the latter was similar to rapid revolver gunfire.
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lA, warAwir mA miS gabil iGGi l-warAwir? E O! Panha snIn!
Text 6: translation AIH-1 S55-1
AIH-2 S55-2
AIH-3 S55-3
AIH-4 S55-4
AIH-5 S55-5 AIH-6 S55-6
AIH-7 S55-7 AIH-8 S55-8 AIH-9
How old are you roughly, Hajji? By God, I’m recorded as being sixty, recorded on that, as sixty…because when I was about fifty, they retired me… I used to work for the Water Board… when the— the Oil Company first got established, I was there, with Dr Snow… then I left Dr Snow, and came here to work for the Water Board. The Water Board here in Bil¸d al-Qadºm? No, over there in Man¸ma. Well, in Man¸ma, I was ill for three years… I was (treated) at the hospital there, with Huda… when I got better, they brought me here to Bil¸d al-Qadºm. To the Water Board. Yes. When that company (= ALBA) got established, they said that old men didn’t have the strength to do the job, that they weren’t strong enough, see? But if it was a question of that, if we (supposedly) couldn’t do the work, we could have shown them … how we work. Hajji, these days the old men work harder than the youngsters! These days it’s the youngsters who hide! Here we had this—… you know where the— where the Passport Office is, on the south side of it…? There, that place… We used to dig roads… and the—… roads for the (Man¸ma) City Council. By God, there were rocks this size… by the Lord, this big, I swear it, as this is God’s bounty! Oh! Why were you digging the roads, Hajji? To lay pipes. For water? For water… and there were slabs, what can I say, stone-slabs this big that we were levering up, with pick-axes… the one that was too much for us was the road where the Advisor lived, that was too much for us… slabs as big as from here to here, we couldn’t break them, we were six, but we couldn’t break up ones that size. In one day. Each day. With a crowbar, or what? No with that—… with a hammer and chisel. Didn’t you have jackhammers in those days?
298 S55-9 AIH-10 S55-10 AIH-11
chapter seven No, there weren’t any. You mean this was before there were jackhammers? Yes. Oh! Many years ago then!
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CHAPTER EIGHT
SAW@LIF A good proportion of the material I recorded on farm visits, at lunches, and during visits to people’s homes, can be classified as insiders transacting business and exchanging local news with each other. But sometimes there was, mixed in, a large measure of story-telling, personal observations, parables, and homespun wisdom. Extended episodes of this latter kind of talk are called sAlfa, pl sawAlif. The basic, and original meaning of this word is ‘business, affair, job’ as in such typical expressions as abbIk fi sAlfa muhimma ‘I’ve got an important job for you to do’, sikti, mA liC sAlfa vbhum ‘shut up, what they do is none of your business’, al-HIn, mA miS ha-s-sawAlif ‘nowadays, such things don’t happen’. But it has also come to mean ‘chat, yarn, anecdote’, as in sawAlif mAl awwal ‘stories about the old days’ and in the child’s plea, yiddati, gUli lina sAlfa yidIda! ‘granny, tell us another story!’1. The verb is sOlaf, which means both ‘to have a chat’ and ‘to tell a story’ and it covers a wide range of types of monologue and conversation. Sometimes, the speaker gets caught up in his story, and the result, from the ethnographer’s point of view, verges on a species of artistic performance containing particular types of repetitive syntactic and discoursal patterning, and other forms of language use less commonly encountered in everyday speech contexts. Text 1 in this chapter, a woman’s dramatic account of two village fires, is an excellent example of such a dramatic ‘performance’ which occurred in the context of a chat with a younger female relative. In other cases, speakers might, in the course of the general chat over coffee in their maGlis, cite verses of dialect poetry to add piquancy to a story or their account of a historical event, and challenge their companions to interpret the meaning. Text 2 is an example of this. In somewhat the same vain are the jokes, riddles, plays on words, and aphorisms with which some speakers liberally sprinkled their talk, challenging their interlocutor (especially if he/she was supposedly better educated than them) to solve or explain them: Text 3, from an illiterate farmer who delighted in displaying this kind of verbal wit, is an example. Towards the end of my period of fieldwork, I was becoming well known to many of the farmers, and they were curious about who I was, why I was in Bahrain (rather than at home helping my father!), and why I was in my late 20s and still not, at that time, married. On one farm visit, this led to a lighthearted discussion on Christian and Muslim marriage customs, studded with acerbic
1 See SAL for a detailed account of the structure and stylistic features of one sub-species of the genre, the Bedouin oral historical narrative from Najd.
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observations, not just on Christian ways of doing things but also on the behaviour of the local Shº{º clergy. An excerpt from this conversation forms Text 4. The common denominator in all the texts in this chapter is the speakers’ use of various of the vernacular language arts in order to get their message across: techniques which, taken together, constitute what Palva has termed ‘artistic colloquial Arabic’2. Text 1: Speaker 38: San¸bis (m1/33): village fires In the days before stone and concrete houses became the norm, the building materials used in villages were mainly derived from the immediate environment. In the simplest dwellings, thick poles (danCal, Candal) made of sandalwood imported by sea from east Africa were used to form the load-bearing structure, and palm-ribs (GarId) and fronds (saPaf, xUR), woven to form panels of matting (simIm, sifIf), were used for the walls and roof. These dwellings were of various types: barastaG/ barastay, PiSS and ParIS3. More elaborate structures, called kabar, had walls made of sea-stone (frUS) or land-stone (HaRa, HGAra) and gypsum (GaRR), with a thatch of woven palm-panels for the roof. These materials are highly combustible and there were frequent disastrous village fires. Speaker 38 gives an account of two such fires that she probably witnessed as a child, in which she employs a combination of speech routines that add vividness to her performance. These all depend on repetition of one kind or another. In describing a scene, S38 typically starts with a phrase which encapsulates the overall picture, and then follows it up with a set of individual snapshots that amplify it, e.g. igUmUn in-nAs farAra wa farAra ‘People would start rushing around’ (= overall picture) followed immediately by a four-fold individualised repetition that tightens the focus: hADa ifirr iSIl margad waladvh, u hADi tfirr vb bitha, u hADi itfirr vb PElatha, u hADi tfirr…. ila GIranvh yiwaggiBhum ‘this man would rush and snatch up his son’s bed, that woman would grab her daughter, this woman her children, and someone else would rush to his neighbours and wake them up’, in each case with a repetition of ifirr/ tfirr which lexically echoes, emphasises and provides textual cohesion with the farAra wa farAra of the overall picture. There are plenty of other examples involving, e.g., the specification of individual loss: a summarising statement iftakkat il-PAlam min balAha ‘people were relieved of this calamity’, is then amplified and qualified at the individual level: lAkin waHda BAPat vfyAbha, u waHda mvrgadha, u waHda... ‘But one woman lost her clothes, another lost her bed, another lost…’. When S38, in an aside, describes the parlous start of ordinary people’s bedding, she introduces the topic with the
2 3
PAL. The (small) differences between them are described in UR (II) 31-5 (Arabic pagination).
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rhetorical question: wES dIk il-marAgid PAd HAlathum? ‘And what were these beds like, exactly?!’ answering it with another repetitive routine: illi PalEha xESa, PalEha xESa, w illi PalEha xalaga, PalEha xalaga, w illi mA PalEha... mA PalEha... ‘Some had sack on them, some had a bit of rag on them, some had nothing at all on them!’ This type of general → specific focusing via the repetition of a syntactic routine (and with complex repeated intonation patterns to match) in which the noun slots are filled by the permutation of different members of a single lexical set is typical of S38’s story-telling style, and lends it concreteness and immediacy. Another technique she uses involving repetition is what has been described as ‘back-stitching’, in which an event is described in one sentence, and the words used are then immediately recycled as a subordinate clause in the following sentence to form a frame for the next stage in the narrative, e.g. gara fi Habbat vtrAb min yamInvh, u haff PalEha... u min haff PalEha... ‘And he recited (the Koran) over a bit of dust in his right hand, and blew on it. And when he blew on it…’ 4. Certain other syntactic and narrative routines are also used to lend vividness to the account. The template mA (...) illa, where (…) is filled by a verb of cognition, e.g. SAf, simaP, waPa, etc is one such, roughly equivalent to ‘then all of a sudden…’5 S38 uses this construction three times, each time to mark a new and dramatic turn of events: mA nismaP illa wagPat iB-Baw ‘No sooner did we hear the commotion of a fire, than…’; mA Sifna illa riPAt in-nvPEm... ‘Then all of a sudden the people from al-Nu{¹m started…’, and mA nismaP illa zaPagat iB-Baw ‘All of a sudden we heard the clamour of a fire…’. The quoting of direct speech is another technique used to add immediacy to the account: ‘I said…’, ‘they said…’, ‘then I said…’. Another is lexical echo, e.g. tarabbaPat fi wasVat il-balad tarbIP6 ‘a fire…had taken hold right in the middle of the village’. Like many women of her generation, S38 freely sprinkles her narrative with exhortations to the Almighty: allah yidfaP il-bala (bi hEbatvh) ‘may God ward off calamity (by His might)!’ occurs six times, and in four or five other phrases God is repeatedly praised, thanked, and His agency in rescuing his PibAd from disasters of one kind or another explicitly recognised. This constant invocation of the Almighty is a pronounced feature of uneducated women’s speech style. The routines and usages exemplified above are found in the conversational speech of many Bahraini women of S38’s generation and older, but it is their
4 This is a widespread and heavily used technique in Arabic oral narrative. See, for instance, the transcriptions of the stories told by an illiterate woman from Al-Aªn¸m, northern Algeria in GAL, and those told by Bedouin Palestinians in HENK. 5 ING 113 notes the same structure-function relationship for this phrase type in Najd, though there the commonest verbs to fill the slot are dara ‘to know’, fuVan ‘to realise’, and fahim ‘to understand’. 6 This type of echoic structure, similar to the ‘absolute accusative’ of CLA, occurred frequently in the speech of older uneducated speakers, cf Communal relations Text 1. More generally, see SF, especially 60-64.
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skilful combination that gives traditional oral narrative of this kind its vigour and flavour. S38
7
il-awwal, lEn gAmaw n-nAs inAmUn, inAmUn vb Raxxa7, allah yidfaP il-bala bi hEbatvh... min kufr il-PirS, w il-barastayAt, u hADa8 l-xUR, u ha-l-kawartIn vmfallatIn u ha-l-HAla... mA nismaP illa wagPat iB-Baw9 ... u igUmUn in-nAs farAra wa farAra... hADa ifirr10 iSIl margad waladvh, u hADi tfirr vb bitha11, u hADi itfirr vb PElatha, u hADi tfirr allah yidfaP il-bala ila GIranvh yiwaggiBhum u hAda... wES dIk il-marAgid PAd HAlathum? illi PalEha xESa, PalEha xESa, w illi PalEha xalaga, PalEha xalaga, w illi mA PalEha, allah yidfaP il-bala, mA PalEha... lAkin PAfyat il-insAn aRaHH min al-HIn... al-HIn barAniR, u mA dri wES isammunhum hAdelEn l-vgVin12, u wES ranghum baPad... naSSAfAt u VarAbIl13, mA dri wES rangvh, killvh xAyfIn Pal awlAdhum Pan il-bard, u xAyfIn Pal awlAdhum Pan ifilGUn PAfyathum u xAyfIn Pal awlAdhum Pan lA yiBrub Pal awlAdhum il-fAliG14, u Pan lA yiBrub Pal awlAdhum hADa S-Salal... wi marra l-vBhur iHna fi n-nvPEm15... iHna fi n-nvPEm, wi lA Sifna illa riPAt in-nvPEm kil wAHid yitsAsar16 wiyya l-fAni... u l-vmsAsara Pindhum gAyma u kil wAHid illi byitHaCCa, yigUlUn lEhum “laHHad yitHaCCa, tara s-sanAbis Pindhum HarIga POda”... wi l-fAni yigUl “lA titHaCCa!” u hAda yigUl “lA titHaCCa!”
Throughout the Gulf, Raxxa ‘dead silence’. Raxxa in CLA is ‘to deafen’. In an earlier published edition of this text (ZAL 13 (1984): 34-38), there are a number of transcription differences from the version given here, notably D rather than the d given in some instances in the earlier version. It is often difficult to decide whether there is a fricative release or not with this sound in the few B village dialects where it occurs in variation with d (much more so than in A speech, where D is more clearly articulated), but with twenty years’ more practice than I had in 1984 at listening to such recordings, I am confident that the transcription given here is the more accurate. 9 The translation here more accurately reflects the tense and pragmatics of this part of the text than my original translation. S38 is here not describing a particular fire—she does that later—but rather what normally would happen whenever one broke out—a common occurrence, given the highly combustible building materials used. 10 The basic meaning of farr is ‘to spin’. Here ‘to rush hither and thither’. 11 bit for bint is a typically B form. 12 ‘Cotton’—she means cotton bed sheets. 13 The sing VirbAl < Eng tarpaulin can refer to any large piece of rubber of plastic sheeting. Here it refers to the rubber sheets used in children’s beds to protect the mattress from urine. 14 fAliG is technically ‘hemi-plegia’, though the speaker is probably using the term here as a synonym of Salal to refer to the paralysis caused by childhood poliomyelitis, then very common in Bahrain. 15 Location m2/1, the western suburb of Man¸ma nearest to San¸bis, the speaker’s home village. 16 sAsar and tsAsar, vn msAsara ‘to whisper to one another’ probably an onomatopoeic formation. The same verb is used in central Arabia (ING 82), and in the southern Gulf with R instead of s (HANZ 577). 8
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u hAda yigUl “lA titHaCCa!”... minhum ani waHda zAdat HAssiyyati17, git ila ummi u xawAti u banAt Pammati “gUmu!” gAlaw “wES RAr?” git ilEhum “mA dri wES RAyir fi s-sanAbis... gUmu nrUH!” ili18 HarIga akalat min farIg iS-SimAli, min il-Jarb ila SimAl, ila l-GinUb, ila S-Sarg... u tarabbaPat fi wasVat il-balad tarbIP, allah yidfaP il-bala... u tAli kil min ya biVaffIha mA gidar iVaffIha, u Hatta mawAVir19 il-HarAyig—waRalat min mawAVir yumkin tyi azyad min PiSrIn mOVir— wi lA gidraw PalEha... tAli ValaP iS-SEx, allAh yirHamvh, SEx PIsa, min SEx PalI20… u gara fi Habbat vtrAb min yamInvh, u haff PalEha... u min haff PalEha, subHAn ir-rabb illi xammadha Pala PibAdvh, u iftakkat il-PAlam21 min balAha... lAkin waHda BAPat vfyAbha, u waHda mvrgadha, u waHda... yumkin azyad min miyatEn bEt illi Pidimat22 min id-dIra... tammo killvhum masAkin, kil wAHid yilaffi23 l-fAni... min baPad ha-n-namUna HaVVO lEhum vxyAm... min baPad l-vxyAm tAli GAzOhum il-HukUma... kil min hAdi, u kaSafaw Pala l-arB u gazzOha24, u bano lEhum vbyUt, u tAli tamaskano li l-yOm ila bACir25 u allah rafaP HaBBhum, al-HIn HamdillAh rabb il-PAlamIn, nisyaw S-SI lli Radar PalEhum.... wi l-fAni HarIga fi l-lEl... mani26 ...nAymIn, tawna nAymIn, fi ramaBAn... tawna yAyIn u nAymIn ... wi lA nismaP illa zaPagat iB-Baw... kil min ValaP, yidfaP allah il-bala, maHHad yigdar iGAbilha... u Hatta d-darAyiS ida daSSEtIn bitSIlIn HAGa min mukAn illi hi— mA hi fIh, iVVubb fIh... u tAli, allah yidfaP il-bala bi hEbatvh, mA xamadat illa yOm akalat Sarg Jarb yamIn SamAl ... u Raffat27 mani Pala 17 HAssiyya is another of the -iyya noun forms so common in Bahrain. The term can denote both ‘sensitivity, feelings’, as well as ‘sense of propriety’. Here S38 seems to mean that she was the only one of her relatives present at a social gathering who realised the gravity of the situation. 18 Normally ila ‘lo and behold!’ 19 Sing mOVir < Eng motor. The word can refer to any motorised four-wheeled vehicle, but is now heard only in the speech of the old and uneducated (cf the Egyptian VumbIl < automobile which is now similarly generationally limited). 20 It is unclear who this Sheikh {›s¸ bin {Alº is. If S38 really witnessed the events she describes, it could not be Sheikh {›s¸ bin {Alº, the late 19th/ early 20th century Ruler (1869-1923) of Bahrain, as he died in 1932, just before, or at about the time of S32’s birth. In any case, it is highly unlikely that an @l-Khalºfa Ruler of this (or any other) period would do what she describes. The reference is much more likely to be to a Ba¥r¸nº jurist or other senior religious figure, to whom the Ba¥¸rna also customarily give the title SEx. 21 This word is often used to mean ‘the people’ and usually requires fem concord. 22 This is a dialectal passive form. These are not very common in Bahrain, much more so in Oman. 23 laffa ‘to give shelter’, also in Iraq. Cf CLA laffA ‘to attract s’one to one’s house’ (HAV 692). 24 gazz ‘to survey, measure’ probably < Pers gaz ‘a yard for measuring with’. Denominative verbs for measuring are also formed from English borrowings: fawwat ‘to measure’ < Eng foot. 25 Presumably a mistake for min il-yOm ila bACir. 26 Location m1/23, the eastern quarter of San¸bis. 27 < Raffa (R-f-y) here ‘to liquidate, destroy’. The basic meaning is ‘to purify’ but also ‘to get rid of’, and, intransitively, ‘be reduced’.
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chapter eight bakrat abAha28... tammat HawAyiGhum29, vgdUrhum, illi Pindhum, killvh Pala s-sIf, Pala l-baHar... wi n-nAs tvJrif min il-baHar u tikitt PalEha... mawAVir mAl l-HukUma yAbOha, u tammat il-Pafsa30 Pindhum... Hallat yumkin min muJrib min is-sAPa iHdaPsar, wila in CAn inVafat31, ila ssAPa falAf min il-lEl, lO azyad baPad... w in-nAs killvh mhayyamIn fi lvbrUr32... lEmA iyUn in-nAs u idiSSUn vbyUthum ila lE inVafat u rAH iSSarr Panhum... tAli ddiSS in-nAs vbyUthum... u umma im dAm hi tiStaPil maHHad idiSS bEtvh... al-HIn HamdillAh rabb il-PAlamIn, allah amman xOf in-nAs.
Text 1: translation S38
In the old days, when people went to bed, they slept in dead silence— may God ward off calamity by His might!—what with all the many palm-huts, and palm-branch-houses, and palm-fronds, and those discarded cardboard boxes, and that kind of thing… but no sooner did we hear the commotion of a fire, than people would start rushing around… this man would rush and snatch up his son’s bed, that woman would grab her daughter, this woman her children, and someone else— may God ward off calamity by His might—would rush to his neighbours and wake them up, and so on… And what were these beds like, exactly?! Some had sack on them, some had a bit of rag, some had nothing at all—may God ward off calamity by His might!—but people were healthier than they are now… now they’ve got blankets, and these whatd’you-call-them, cotton sheets and other stuff—towels, and rubber sheets, and I don’t know what, constantly fretting about their children catching cold, or about them becoming half paralysed, or about them being struck down with polio… One time, at noon, we were in al-Nu{¹m... we were in al-Nu{¹m, and all of a sudden the people from al-Nu{¹m started whispering among themselves. The whispering among them just kept
28 A Classical-sounding phrase meaning ‘completely, in totality’, though with incorrect (hypercorrect?) iPrAb. 29 Here, the word refers to ‘household goods’ (dukkAn mAl HawAyiG is a shop which sells them), but can also refer to ‘chores, jobs’. 30 ‘chaos, mess’ in all Gulf dialects. 31 The syntax here is confused, even if the meaning is clear. She probably means to say ‘and when it was put out, it wasn’t until…’ 32 It is difficult to tell whether this, or w in-nAs killvhum hAymIn fi l-vbrUr is the correct transcription (a native informant preferred the version given in the text). Either way, the meaning would be the same. brUr are the uncultivated lands belonging to a village which surround the settled, built-up part.
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on, and anyone who made to speak out loud was told ‘No-one say anything! It looks like there’s a big fire in San¸bis!’ And someone else said ‘Don’t speak!’, and then another said ‘Don’t speak!’, and then another… I was the only one of them who was getting more and more anxious, so I said to my mother, and my sisters and cousins, ‘Come on, let’s go!’ They said ‘What’s the matter?’ I said to them, ‘I don’t know what’s happened in San¸bis—let’s go and see!’ (And when we got there), lo and behold, a fire had consumed the northern quarter from west to north, to south, to east, and had taken hold right in the middle of the village—may God ward off calamity! And everybody who tried to put it out couldn’t put it out, and even the fire engines—maybe more than twenty fire engines came—even they couldn’t bring it under control… Then Sheikh {›s¸, God have mercy on him, appeared, Sheikh {›s¸, the son of Sheikh {Alº… And he recited (the Koran) over a bit of dust in his right hand, and blew on it. And when he blew on it, all praise to the Lord who put (the fire) out for His servants, and people were relieved of this calamity. But one woman lost her clothes, another lost her bed, another… There were maybe more than two hundred houses destroyed in the village. The people were all utterly wretched, each giving shelter to his neighbour. After that, they put up tents for them, and after the tents, the government compensated them… all this, then they inspected the land, surveyed it, and built them houses. In a short time they settled back down in the village and God raised their fortunes. Now, praise be to God, they’ve forgotten what befell them. The second was a fire at night, in Mani. Gone to bed, we’d just gone to bed, in Ramadan… we’d just come home and gone to bed…Then all of a sudden we heard the clamour of a fire… no one who went to it—may God ward off calamity by His might!—could get near it, and even the windows, if you went in through them to get something out from where it was, the fire would catch onto it. Then—may God ward off calamity by His might!—it died down, but only after it had destroyed east, west, south, north, and razed Mani to the ground. All their household things, their cooking pots and possessions, were all left on the seashore, by the sea… The people ladled water from the sea and poured it on the fire. They brought the government’s fire engines, it was complete chaos there. The fire started in the evening at about eleven o’clock, and at the time it was put out it must have been three in the morning or even later. The people were forced to wander about outside the village, until they could finally go back into their houses when the fire was put out, and this evil left them. Then people could enter their houses, but as long as the fire was still burning, no one could go into his house. Now, praise be to God, God has put to rest people’s fears.
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chapter eight Text 2: Speaker 8: Budayya{ (m1/44): a poem and its meaning
This text was recorded in S8’s maGlis in the company of his nephew and several other members of his family. I was present and made occasional contributions to the conversation, which lasted a couple of hours. S8, in his 60s, is a member of the Daw¸sir tribe, which in Bahrain lives in the western coastal settlement of Budayya{. The dIra of this tribe is in southwestern Najd, some 500 km east of Mecca, but communities of Daw¸sir are found throughout the Gulf. In Bahrain they were a dominant, quasi-independent force in pearl diving and trading until the 1920s. A succession of incidents in the early years of that decade, in which the tribal leaders came into conflict with the British authorities, caused many of its clans to quit Bahrain for good, but some eventually returned, and still live in their original settlement at Budayya{. S8 had done many jobs in his life: pearl-diving, working for BAPCO, and working on the oil rigs off Abu Dhabi. He was a frequent visitor to, and performer at, the dUr of exdivers in Mu¥arraq, and had a fund of traditional oral culture at his disposal— songs, poems, riddles, stories and lore of all kinds. His account of the ‘Battle of {@lº’ of 1923 between the Daw¸sir and the Ba¥¸rna of {@lº (which he cannot himself have witnessed) forms text 2 of Communal relations. In the course of a long evening of sawAlif, S8 gave many examples of the use of different types of dialect poetry to comment on current events (and in the conduct of clandestine love affairs!). The extract below concerns the aftermath of the ‘Battle of {@lº’, and alludes to the reforms to the financing of pearl diving instituted between 1921 and 1923, which eventually led to large scale rioting in 1932 before the power of the sea-captains over the divers was finally broken. Major C. K. Daly, British Political Agent (1920-26) was responsible both for these reforms and for the expulsion of the Daw¸sir after their attack on {@lº in 1923. After Daly left Bahrain, Charles Dalrymple Belgrave was appointed to the new position of mustaSAr, or ‘Adviser (to the Ruler)’, a position he occupied until 1957. Unlike Daly he was an employee of the Ruler rather than the British Crown. The extract that follows revolves around a dialectal mawwAl, supposedly composed by a black slave, a client of the Daw¸sir tribe, in the mid-1920s. In it, the slave composes ex tempore, or perhaps quotes, a poem that describes, perhaps even celebrates, the passing of the despotic rule of the tribes. S8 provides a commentary on the poem for the benefit of the younger listeners, who play their expected role by demanding explanations of the lines. ‘S’ is S8’s nephew. The mawwAl in the Gulf and Iraq is typically a seven-line poem, in which the rhyme scheme is aaabbba. Its defining characteristic is the pun: each instance of rhymes a and b involves using the same word phonologically and graphologically (or as near as possible to it) but in each case with a different meaning. So, for example, in a mawwAl entitled mahmA taVIr by the well-known Bahraini poet
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{Alº {Abullah Khalºfa33, lines 1-3 and 7 all end in dArI but in each case with a different meaning: (1) dArI ‘my house’ (2) ydAri ‘takes care’ (3) dArI ‘knows’ (7) dArI ‘my house’; lines 4-6 all end in ksUr: (4) l-vksUr ‘the injuries’ (5) maksUr ‘broken’ (6) lik sUr ‘for you a wall’. In the mawwAl quoted below by S8, the first rhyme-word is dAyra, which is to be understood in different senses as follows: (line 1) fem ap ‘revolving’ (subj: ‘the mill-stone’); (2) fem ap ‘spinning’ (subj: ‘their heads’); (3) masc ap + pron enclitic (= dAyr-a34) ‘going round in it’ (subj: ‘unbelief’, obj: ‘our country’); (7) fem ap ‘beginning’ (subj: ‘the coming years’). The second rhyme is dAr, and lines 4-6 involve different senses of this word as an ss verb: (line 4) ‘begun, set in’ (subj: ‘Christian rule’); (5) ‘changed’ (subj: ‘the times’); (6) ‘ended’ (subj: ‘tyranny’). S8-1
PAd, allah ysalmvk, Pindvna hni wAHid, Pabd35 hu, Pabd yaPni, yigAl36 lih PabdullaVIf vmbrAhIm37Pabda... tAyih, sayyAH hu... PAd Pugub mA Amar dEli Pala l-vbdayyaP PAd xams ayyAm38, yaPni yirUH yiFPan willa agilbah39 Hadir fOg... S-gAl Hagg Pammah40 hu? gAl “Pammi!” gAl “naPam!” gAl “yigUl: “dinyAna d-dUniyya41 u dArat bih raHa dAyra” yaPni hAk! tara yaPni dEli raHa dAyra yaPni “wi RgUl42 agUl Fallat rUshum dAyra min yOm Cifna ha-l-kufur fi blAdna dAyra il-Girmani yiStiki Hukm in-naRAra dAr wi smUt43 l-aywAd JaVVAha z-zamAn u dAr
33
From the collection PAVaS an-NaxIl, Bahrain, 4th edition (1970) 66. Alternatively, kufur could be read as a pl of kAfir, in which case dAyra would be a fem ap agreeing with it, meaning simply ‘roaming around’. 35 The word in everyday parlance in Bahrain and the rest of Gulf always refers to people of black African descent. 36 This is one of the few verbs in Bahrain in which the passive commonly occurs. 37 Sic, with very pronounced nasalisation of b. 38 See Communal relations. Following their attack on {@lº, Daly gave the Daw¸sir five days to leave Bahrain. 39 S8 switches to Daly’s direct speech. 40 Pamm is the ‘master’ of a slave. 41 A double meaning: dUni means both ‘lower’ in reference to the lower stone on a quern which does not move, and ‘inferior, poor.’ 42 Glossed as ‘brave men’, though I can find no reference to this word in this sense in any other source of dialectal vocabulary or in CLA. 43 samt is ‘manly virtue, dignified conduct’ in neighbouring Najd (KURP (III) 40, 391), and had a similar sense of ‘grave, serious conduct’ in CLA. smUt is the pl, signifying actions which have these qualities. The literal sense is ‘the dignified deeds of noble men’. 34
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chapter eight wi Axir z-zaman yA faray44 wi F-Fulum fIha dAr wi stabdalEnAh bi snIn tawwvha dAyra”
S-1 S8-2
S-2 S8-3
S-3 S8-4
yA Pamm, xanna naSrid, lA45 yiDbaHna dEli!” vhuwwv wakAd46, yaPni! fassirha, fassir maPnAtha maPnAtha, “dinyAna d-dUniyya u dArat bih rAHa dAyra” yigUl “mu zamankum DAk il-awwali, illi VViggUn u tHabsUn... lA! al-HIn RAr dEli fi l-Hukum! il-Pabd wi l-Hurr siwa, yaPni Hukumhum Padil”... yigUl lik “mA fIh PAd47 mamlUk”—dEli, wi l-mistaSAr... awwal yibIPUn rayAyIl, u yibIPUn niswAn... gAlaw “mA fIh!” hA lli ygUl dEli? dEli wi l-mistaSAr Pugbah... al-HIn iHna JEr vmmallakIn fi l-JOR? Harrarna il-mistaSAr, gAl “yallah, mAku48 PabId! kill Hurr nafsah!” CUf! hummalE49 iPdalaw, yA Di50, yaPni HagIga, amAnt allah, lA wallah, iPdalaw min humma? dEli u min Pugbah l-mistaSAr... zEn... maPnAt “dinyAna dUniyya u dArat bih rAHa dAyra” tara “hA, zamanik taJayyar” yaPni, tara “fOgik raHa dAyra” hAy dEli, yaPni, yigUl Hagg Pammvh, “HuVV bAlik, zamAnik rAH dAr” “wi RgUl agUl Fallat rUshum dAyra” yaPni min Pugub il-awwal id-dawAsir yiHakmUn u yFirbUn u yViggUn u yHabsUn, al-HIn lA! Pala yadhum yad... Pala l-Hagg, yaPni... ismaP PAd... kAhu51 yibayyin lih, yigUl lih “min yOm Cifna ha-l-kufur fi blAdna dAyra” yaPni inHakamna
44
For faraG, via the normal G→y rule of the A dialects. faraG was a typical ‘slave’ name. Here ‘lest’. 46 ‘Certainty’ or ‘certainly’ in all Gulf and Arabian dialects; here in the sense of ‘truth’ as opposed to ‘fiction’. 47 mA fIh PAd ‘there is no longer’. 48 This negative particle is more common in Kuwait and southern Iraq than in Bahrain. 49 This is the only instance of this particle that occurs in the whole of my data: S8, like all other Bahrainis, normally used wila or ila in the sense of ‘lo and behold’. hummalE was noted by Johnstone in the late 50’s (DOS (I) 279) as one of a number of peculiarities of the dialect of D¡siri immigrants in Kuwait, and by Ingham for the {Ajm¸n of (southern) Najd (ING 143). It would appear that S8 has retained remnants of this tribal dialect despite the fact that, to my knowledge, he had never been near his ancestral tribal dIra in southwestern Arabia. 50 He is addressing S, but momentarily forgets his name. 51 An A presentative form; the B speakers say hAkhu. 45
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“il-Girmani yiStiki Hukm in-naRAra52 dAr” inna yaPni, inna, miTil mA tigUl hAy al-HIn miTil landan, al-HIn hay elizabet hAy lizabet mAl landan53, killvh niHna nHibbah l-baHrEn! yaPni iS-SyUx, il-xalIfa, u iHana54, killvh nHibb elizabet! liQan vhiyyv umm il-baHrEn55.
Text 2: translation S8-1
Well, you know, we had a man here, a slave he was, a slave, called {Abdulla«ºf Ibr¸hºm {Abda… he was a wanderer, a traveller… Well, after Daly gave Budayya{ five days (to leave), to pack up and go or he would turn the place upside down… what was it he said to his master? He said, ‘Master!’ ‘Yes?’ his master replied. He said ‘(the poet) says: “This world of ours is the lower (stone), and a (new) mill-stone is turning on it!” —meaning that Daly was the ‘mill-stone’— “Brave men, I say, their heads stayed spinning, From the day we saw unbelief in our country roaming; The Germans complain, because the Christians’ writ now runs; The times have put an end to noble deeds; times have changed! This is the end of the age in which tyranny ruled, O Faraj, And we’ve exchanged it for years which are just beginning”
S-1 S8-2
So master, let’s flee before Daly kills us!’ And he said that in all seriousness, I mean. Explain them, explain the meaning of the lines. The meaning of it… “This world of ours is the lower (stone), and a (new) mill-stone is turning!” He’s saying ‘This is no longer the old times you knew, in which you beat and imprisoned people… no, now
52 Lit ‘Christians’, but to people of S8’s generation, the word was a synonym for white-skinned westerners, which in Bahrain’s case meant the British. Here, ‘Christians’ (= ‘British’) is opposed to ‘Germans’. 53 i.e. Elizabeth II. This is an anachronism, as Elizabeth did not come to the thrown until 1952. 54 ‘We’ here means the tribally descended A community, the traditional allies of the @l-Khalºfa, and by implication not the B community. 55 If this poem is correctly quoted, it must be referring to post-World War One German ‘complaints’ about the British and their empire. S8 means that what was true then (the love S8 claims the Bahrainis had for the British, their protectors) still remained true under Elizabeth II.
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S-2 S8-3
S-3 S8-4
chapter eight Daly’s in charge. Slaves and free man are equal, their (= the British’s) rule is just’… He—that is Daly, and then the Advisor—is saying ‘There are no longer to be any slaves.’ In the old days they used to sell men, and sell women. Then they came along and said, ‘No more of that!’ That’s what Daly said? Daly, and the Advisor after him. Were we really any better than slaves, as pearl divers? ! The Advisor freed us, he said, ‘From now on, there are to be no slaves. All are free to do as they like.’ See? They acted justly, to be perfectly honest… no, by God, they acted justly. Who were they? Daly, and after him the Advisor… So… the meaning of “This world of ours is the lower (stone), and a (new) mill-stone is turning on it!” then, is ‘Hey! Times have changed!’ and ‘There is a mill-stone on top of you’—that’s Daly. (The slave) is telling his master ‘Watch out! Your time has gone, it’s come to an end.’ “Brave men, I say, their heads stayed spinning” That means that after the old times, when the Daw¸sir ruled, and beat and hit people and imprisoned them… now, no longer! There was someone more powerful than them… and a good job too! Listen a bit… He makes it clearer to him, he says: “From the day we saw unbelief in our country roaming” meaning, ‘we’re under their rule now’ “The Germans complain, because the Christians’ writ now runs” meaning that, that, as you might say, this now is like London, now it’s Elizabeth, it’s Elizabeth from London… and we’ve always loved Elizabeth, the Bahrainis! I mean the Sheikhs, the @l-Khalºfa and us, we’ve always loved Elizabeth! Because she is the mother of Bahrain. Text 3: Speaker 71: Sitra (m1/41): riddles and jokes
Speaker 71 was in his mid-40s from Sitra, originally a separate island to the east of the main island, but long since linked to it by a causeway. AIH was a frequent visitor to S71’s allotment farm, partly because he enjoyed his company, and partly because he wished to keep up with the village gossip of the area. S71 had suffered a childhood illness (probably polio, il-fAliG) that had stunted his growth and left him unable to walk except with a stick. But this had not affected his sense of
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humour—he had an inexhaustible store of gossip, jokes, and anecdotes, which he always dipped into during our visits as we sat eating dates and drinking coffee in the farm hut (Randiga) where he kept his farming tools and his gudUP. For AIH the sawAlif were part of the attraction of a visit, as S71 would often produce local expressions that puzzled him, and there would be much joking and joshing mixed in with the more serious business of advice on agriculture and the delivery of supplies. The extract produced here is fairly typical of these sessions. It begins with an observation by S71 on the difficulty of working by oneself—he had no full-time helper on the farm despite his disability—which then leads onto a jokey exchange with suggestions as to how an empty house that S71 owned could be put to good use. Jokes and riddles then become the topic of the ensuing conversation. S71 starts with two puns, on the meaning of fils and sawwa, and then moves on to ask AIH to explain the meaning of two local expressions that, it turns out, have scatological and sexual overtones. S71’s obvious delight in this rapid-fire question-and-answer session is that it allows him to ‘get one over’ on AIH, who is supposedly the more educated of the two, yet cannot supply the correct answers. At one point S71 triumphantly crows hAy drUs! ‘That’s learning!’ S71 speaks a dialect typical of village Ba¥¸rna whose contact with people from outside their immediate neighbourhood, at the time of fieldwork, was restricted. He makes heavy use of a number of phonological and morphological features found more commonly in the B dialects of the east of Bahrain than elsewhere, and of lexical features peculiar to that area, which nonetheless have a CLA pedigree. S71-1 AIH-1 S71-2 AIH-2 S71-3 AIH-3 S71-4 AIH-4 S71-5
il-waHda gaSra56 manta waHId...GamAPa57 Pindvk, riGAl GamAPa, wilA tfIdni... hAkhum yibnUn fi l-bEt mata yibnUn, il-PaRir lO al-HIn? il-PaRAri Giyyathim yiStaJilUn, u yOm il-Of 58 yiStaJilUn, yabbUn yisawwUn iV-VAbik il-fAni E... wES yibnUn? yibnUn akUl liC VAbik il-fAni fawk wES yaPni, HiGar?Cam waHda? al-HIn buJyathim arbaP, xams, sitt... al-HIn arbaP bikamlUnhim, fintEn birismUnhim59
56 Fem form of agSar. The word has various senses in Arabia and Iraq: ‘rough’, ‘ill-omened, unlucky’. 57 AIH means himself and me, who were visiting; S71 uses the word to refer to his family, who are not doing as he wants. 58 < Eng (day) off. 59 rasam is to ‘plan’ a building, though in B village domestic buildings and extensions to them, this did not usually involve architectural drawings but rather floor plans marked out on the spot. Much was done by eye and the experience of the local master builder.
312 AIH-5 S71-6 AIH-6 S71-7 AIH-7 S71-8
AIH-8 S71-9 AIH-9 S71-10 AIH-10 S71-11 AIH-11 S71-12 AIH-12 S71-13 AIH-13 CH-1
chapter eight yaPni il-arbaP biHuVVUn PalEhim sagf? E, u fintEn rasim. Bayyig PalEhum il-maHall? E, balwa... ana baPad kit lEhim “al-HIn intUn ha-l-wakPa60 Pala wES? bitibnUn fOk... ibnu fi bEt iS-Sarki61... liQann hAdAk liyyi lA (laughs) ay hu minhum? bEtna l-fAni, Sarki bEtna hAda illi iHna fIh... hAdAk liyyi ana, lA? kit “ibnu fi bEt iS-Sarki!” kAlaw “lA! bEt iS-Sarki bnibni fIh, CEfa baPad yiwAlim62? bEt iS-Sarki wAl bih63 Pala l-HayAwIn u Pala s-sayyArAt64. nibJa minnvh VbElatEn65, u nibJa minnvh zarAyib, u nibJa nHuVV fIh naxIl, u...” hAda b isim axUk E... lAkin iHna, Pala kOlat il-kAyil, Pala kOlat il-hindi, “sEm sEm”66... hAda Pala isim axUyi, u ana ilayyi rafB67 bakitbvh Pala isim manRUr68 ay hu minhum? huwa hAda l-bEt, liQann ana Pindi JEruh baPad il-bEt illi Sargi bEtkum? E... ana baPad Pindi arB, Pindi bEt, yaPni JEruh... Pindvna bEt abUyi... bEt abUyi baPad kabIr minhu sAkin fIh? maHHad tiQaGrvh? willa sAkin fIh nOP hAda?69 QaGGirUna yyAh! hAkhu! tabba, rUH vxduh! bEt abUh... (to CH) niskin ana u inta fIh... Padil, lA? Sinhu?
60 wagPa/ wakPa is any kind of ‘bother, trouble, nuisance’ or, as in text 1 of this chapter, ‘commotion’. 61 As is very common in the Bahraini dialects in general, S71 uses what in CLA is an annexation structure for a definite noun-adjective phrase. 62 wAlam ‘to be appropriate, suitable’ and similar derivatives with w-l-m root consonants throughout Arabia and Iraq. This seems to be a variant or a metathesis of CLA theme III l-Q-m, with w < Q, which has similar senses. 63 wAl bi- is used in a way similar to EgA yadOb in the sense ‘hardly, scarcely, barely’. The etymology is unclear. 64 He means the pick-up trucks used by farmers. 65 In Bahrain and the lower Gulf VbEla is a garage for a car attached to a house. 66 i.e. < Eng same. The expression is a well-known phrase of pidginized Indian English. 67 rafB is a small, unirrigated plot of land for growing palm-trees, higher than the water table, in which the trees are grown in deep pits. In CLA, the word has the sense of ‘deserted piece of land between two cultivated pieces of land’. 68 The name of his brother. 69 He means Europeans like me, who at the time of this recording were renting houses in B areas for the first time.
sawa¯lif AIH-14 CH-2 AIH-15 S71-14 AIH-16 S71-15 AIH-17
S71-16 AIH-18 CH-3 AIH-19 S71-17 AIH-20 S71-18 S71-19 AIH-21 S71-20 AIH-22 S71-21 AIH-23 S71-22 AIH-24 S71-23 AIH-25 S71-24 AIH-26
70
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(to CH) niskin, nitHawwal... ana batHawwal min bEtna u inta min bEtkum, u inGi bEt hADa lES? bEt PatIg, u nigPad fIh lA! fIh falAfat iHGar Giddad fIh kahrab?GIbu lina kahrab awwal... GIbu lina kahrab u mAy lA, il-mA basIV! (to CH) zEn, lA?inGi nigPad ihni, ana u inta... xud lEna hindiyya, VabbAxa (CH laughs) tiVbax lEna mA dAm iHna fi S-SuJil... u lEn iGi Hasan70, baPad inPizmvh! lEn axadtUn hindiyya, ana baJdi anAwisha71 (laughs) liQan hindiyya mA tinwas b rUHha! Paraft wES igUl lik?niVlib waHda min il-hind, iRRIr VabbAxa ilEna, ana u inta... u hADa, iDa iHna riHna niStvJil— nPizmvh yaPni hADa mu nPizmvh... nxallIh fi l-bEt wiyya l-hindiyya, yigPad wiyyAha, Pan lA yaPni iRRIr... tistawHiS, aw wAHid iGi yitPadda PalEha, fa hAda yikUn— muHAmi, yaPni u ida sawwa minha walad, huwa yiRruf PalEha! lA, lA! ana mA amba Say! ana mA abba Say! igdaPu, lA! (***********************************************) inta mA lEC Say? lA... iSrab sahmi aSrab sahmiC v? E Pabdan... ila PaVEtni sahmiC, kataltni! is-sahm72 yiktil! (laughs) Pala hawAk lA, Pala hawAy, CAn zEn. CAn tsawwi mAy il-baHar SaVV73? lA, lA, mA abJa hAdi... CAn abJa liyyi daxIl allah bass—arbaPa lakk74, xamsa lakk...bass. E naPam... aHaRRil Pala hawAy v? E!
S71’s name. nAwas ‘to keep s’one company, entertain, amuse’ and niwis/ nawas ‘to be happy, content’, both used by the B community only, < CLA Q-n-s via metathesis and w < Q. 72 The first of S71’s plays on words. sahm means ‘share’ (in this case of the coffee) and ‘arrow’. 73 Lit ‘river’, i.e. sweet water as opposed to salt water. 74 An Indian term, originally 100,000. In Bahrain the term is now obsolete, but was used to mean 10,000, though by some speakers in the original sense of 100,000. The plural, ilkUk is still used for a very large but unspecified number, rather like the English ‘zillions’. 71
314 S71-25 AIH-27 S71-26 AIH-28 S71-27 AIH-29 S71-28
AIH-30 S71-29 AIH-31 S71-30
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chapter eight lA! tHaRRil E hv75?wEn aHaRRil? tHaRRil “tHaRRil”, Hatta dInAr mA fIh CIsi76, u aHaRRil arbaPa lakk v?wEn aHaRRil? mA aHaRRil! lES mA tHaRRil? muSkil!... yikUl hAdAk “yA rabbi, taPVIni flUs!” kAl lih wAHid “in CAn tidaPPi ila rabbiC yaPVIC flUs... u lO rabbiC mA PaVAC flUs, ana aPVIC! ana Pindi makdira aPVIC flUs ilamma tkUl “bass!”” kAl “inta?” kAl “E, naPam!”... min Hawlvh kAl “HABrIn!” kAl “dUru iCfAtuh77! Himm78 lih HadIda!” kAl “aySO?” kAl “l-vflUs, baPad! ida mA hi flUs79, kUl! GIb in-nAs yiShadOn!... kAl “lA! ana mA abJa flUs, il-flUs hAdi!”... E l-vflUs mi hi wAHid... miVrak ha-S-Sakil yikUl lih “hAda fils”... inta mA tibJa finGAl, lA?xud finGAl! lA! yaPni l-insAn illi GAy fi t-tankEt, wAGid PaVna, minSUf 80 iHna mA Sifna ha-l-wAGid... al-HIn, il-yOm mitfarJIn ila ha-t-tankIt hAdi smiPt v?ilEn riHt ila HaGGi Pali, kAl HaGGi Pali ila Hurmatvh “kUmi sawwi lEna finGAl” yaPni hu yikRid ila l-CAy... PaGal marattvh tiPruf tsawwi fanAGIl... ana rAyiH marra, ila yikUl “kUmi sawwi lEna finGAl, Pidna wAHid” kit lEha “ila wES? CAn bitsawwIn, sawwi lEna darzan! mA Pidna fanAGIl wAGid” ila ykUl “lA, bitsawwi lEna finGAl ila CAy!”kit “lA, tsawwi finGAl?!—xallha tsawwi darzan!” maRnaP, yaPni, maRnaP
75 A good example of how the B question particle v, when placed after a word ending in a vowel, becomes hv or yv. The same particle with the same allomorphs occurs in the sedentary dialects of Oman (REIN 34). 76 CIs ‘bag’, but also ‘wallet, purse’. 77 The same expression is used in Agriculture Text 6. Cafat ‘to tie the hands’ and dAr iCfAtah ‘to tie s’one up’, iCfAt being the vn. dAr here is ‘to make go round’ (as in the agricultural expression dAr il-ma ‘to make water circulate round irrigation channels’), so the phrase literally means ‘make his tying go round’. 78 Theme II Hamma ‘to heat’ < H-m-y. The masc imper loses its vowel in final-weak verbs in all Gulf dialects. 79 fils pl flUs has several meanings in Bahrain. ‘Coins, money’ and ‘mark (here, ‘scorch mark’) the size of small coins’ are the two on which the pun is based here, but the word can refer to a wide variety of objects the size and shape of a coin, e.g. the circular, flattened head of a nail used in shipbuilding; a type of sea-bed flora whose top resembles a small coin; or a scab. It also means ‘hollowed out clam’ as well as the ‘cavity’ into which the mainmast of a boat is fixed, both these latter meanings possibly < Akk pelSu ‘hole’. 80 minSUf < b-inSUf via the spread of nasalization, typical of some northern B village dialects.
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yikUl “lA, balwa!” yaPni mA miS kalAm illa PalEh taPlIq PaGIb... GamIP il-kalAm PalEh? E... GamIP il-kalAm PalEh, u GamIP il-kalAm ilEh taPbIr... wES maPna gOlat— al-HIn iHna nkUl “xarIV fI marIV” wESo “l-xarIV fi l-marIV”? wES maPnAh? ana asQalk! ana asQalk! al-HIn... al-HIn... inta QaGabt iliyyi Hatta— ana mA afham, lA? hA, mA yxAlif! ana aPVIk ir-radd, u baPdEn aPVIk suQAl taPVIni r-radd tfaBBal “il-xarIV fi l-marIV”, QaGGar lik allah, il-xara fi l-maRIr81 il-xara fi l-maRIr wES maPna “il-harIG fi l-marIG”? hAy RaPb baPad... wES maPna hAda? al-HIn, al-HIn ana abJa minnak ir-radd! ana abJi minnak! al-HIn! hAy drUs! tfaBBal, GAwib! wES maPna hAda baPad? al-HIn ana asQalk u inta tisQalni ana asQalk ana gilt lik “il-xarIV fi l-marIV” u QaGabt Pala—- ana PaVEtik is-suQAl u QaGabt PalEh... al-HIn PaVEtik suQAl, lAzim tiGIb PalEh! mA aPruf... ida mA aPruf wES asawwi? inta GAwib! ana saQaltvk Pan “il-xarIV fi l-marIV”, al-HIn “il-harIG fi l-marIG” illa hu yaPni il-fOBa82. “harIG” yaPni il-kalAm83, lO lA? lA, illa hu “kalAm”, falAkin84 ilih uRUl85 yaPni... wES maPna uRUl hAda S-Say? mA maPna uRUl hAda S-Say?
81 In the Gulf and Iraq, the similar expression xarIV marIV means ‘rubbish, nonsense’. The meaning given by S71 for il-xarIV fi l-marIV must be local to Sitra—AIH, a B villager from no more than twelve miles away, had not heard the expression in this form before, or had any idea of its meaning. HANZ 191 puts the same riddle in the mouth of a poetess answering ‘a group of Bedouin’ who asked her what she was carrying in her dress. According to HANZ, xarIV is ‘the fruit of the prosopis tree (il-JAf)’ and marIV means ‘dress’. In CLA, xarIV means the pod of the sesame tree, and the like (L 723). 82 ‘Confusion, disorder’ is one of the CLA meanings of harG. 83 haraG and its vn harIG are also commonly used throughout Arabia in the sense of ‘chatter, talk’, the only colloquial meaning AIH knew for this word. 84 falAkin is used in certain B villages only. 85 The sense of uRUl here is ‘hidden meanings’.
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chapter eight uRUl hAda S-Say “dAk fi dAk” ay hu yaPni? “dAk fi dAk” Sinhu yaPni, “dAk fi dAk”? SlOn yaPni? iS-SEx— iS-SEx ibrAhIm fi S-SEx ismAPIl! (laughs loudly) Pirift v?hAda “harIG— hAdi yaPni HaCi safOla86 “harIG fi marIG” HaCi safOla hAda, iS-SEx iladi, yaPni... yikUm... VAPa, hAda yisammUnvh “harIG”... hAdAk yisammUnvh, iladi tisGid ilEh, tisGid ilEh hAda, yisammUnvh “marIG”87 Text 3: translation
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Being on your own is awful. You’re not on your own… you’ve got company with you, men. Company, yes, but they’re no use to me… They’re building an extension to the house right now. When do they build, in the afternoons, or this time of day? They come in the afternoons to work, and on their day off. They want to put a second storey on. Yes… What is it they’re building? I just told you—a second storey, on top. What, though? (Extra) rooms? How many? They’re intending four, five, six. Four they’re finishing off, two they’re planning. You mean they’re about to put the roof on four of them? Yes, and two others are at the planning stage. Is the house too small for them then? Yes, it’s a problem… I said to them ‘Why are you putting yourselves to all this trouble, building on top? Extend the (other) house that’s to the east’… Because that belongs to me! (laughs)
safOla/ safAla is the pl of sAfil ‘low, vulgar person’. In fact, the expression echoes CLA, in which haraGa can mean ‘to penetrate (a woman)’, and tahAraGU means ‘they penetrated one another’ (LA Vol 2 389; Lane prefers to protect his readers’ sensibilities by translating these expressions into Latin). In CLA and the Arabian dialects, HarG wa marG basically means ‘all mixed up, higgledy-piggledy’ and is quoted in the LA in a Ýadºth example describing the sexual activities of those in Paradise. Landberg (DATH 927) quotes a south Arabian account of the activities of slaves in Mecca that again associates the expression harG wa marG with sexual promiscuity. 87
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Which one of them? The other house, to the east of the one we live in… that one belongs to me, right? So I said, ‘Extend the eastern house!’ but they said ‘Extend the eastern house?! What good would that be? The eastern house is barely big enough for the animals and the farm vehicles. We’ll make a couple of garages out of it, and cow-sheds, and grow palm-trees there, and…’ Is that house in your brother’s name? Yes, but as the saying goes, as the Indians say, we are ‘same same’. It’s in my brother’s name, and I have a plot of land as well, which I intend to make over to Manª¢r. Which house? That house, because I’ve got other (land) apart from that. You mean the house that’s east of your house? Yes… but I’ve got some other land too, another house … I’ve got my father’s house… And it’s big, too. Who lives in that? No one. Are you letting it? Or are there people like him (indicates CH) living in it? Let it to us! There it is! If you want it, go and take it! His father’s house… (to CH) let’s me and you go and live in it, OK? What? (to CH) We’ll live there, move over there! I’ll move from our house and you from yours, and we’ll come here! (laughs) Why? It’s an old house, and we can live in it. No, it’s not! There are three new rooms in it! Is there electricity? Put in electricity first, electricity and water. No, putting in water’s easy! (to CH) That would be nice, eh? You and me will come and live here… Take on an Indian woman for us as a cook (CH laughs) who’ll cook for us while we’re at work. And when Ýasan comes, we’ll invite him in to eat with us! If you employ an Indian woman, I’ll come and keep her company (laughs) because she’d wouldn’t be happy by herself! Understand what he’s saying to you? We’ll ask for a woman to come from India, to be our cook, me and you, and when we go out to work— You mean we could invite him in. We wouldn’t invite him in, we’d put him in the house with the Indian woman, to stay with her, so that she wouldn’t be—so that she wouldn’t feel lonely… or if someone came along and attacked her, he’d be— —her protector.
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chapter eight And if he got her pregnant, he’d have to pay for her! No, no! I don’t want anything like that! I don’t want anything like that! Come on, eat up! (***********************************************) Don’t you want any? No… you drink my share. I drink your share? Yes. Never! If you give me your share, you’ll kill me! ‘Shares’ (= arrows) kill! (laughs) As you wish. No, if things were as I wish, it would be great! Would you make seawater sweet? No, no, I don’t want that… I would just want, please God, forty thousand, fifty thousand… that’s all. Yes indeed. Will I get my wish? Yes! No! You’ll get it. ‘Yes’? How ? You’ll get it. ‘You’ll get it’—I haven’t got even a dinar in my pocket, and I’ll get forty thousand? Where will I get it? I won’t get it! Why won’t you get it? It’s a problem! This bloke says ‘O Lord, give me money! So this other bloke says ‘If you’re asking your Lord for money, and your Lord doesn’t give it you, I’ll give it you. I have the ability to give you money until you say ‘Enough!” The first one said ‘You?’ The other one said ‘Yes!’ The people around him said, ‘We’re ready!’, so the second man said ‘Tie his hands behind his back! Heat up the iron for him!’ The first man said ‘What’s this?’ So the second said ‘It’s ‘money’! If it isn’t, say so! Bring people to bear witness!’ So the first man said ‘No! I don’t want ‘money’ of that kind!’ Yes, you see, the word ‘money’ doesn’t just have one meaning. An iron bar like this, people say ‘that (makes a mark like) money’... Don’t you want a cup of coffee, eh? Have a cup! No! When you start down the path of joking, you see, there’s lots. Tell us so we can see, we haven’t seen this ‘lots’. Today we’ve got the time for joking. Listening then? If you go to see Hajji Ali, he’ll say to his wife ‘Go and make us a cup’ meaning a cup of tea. But his wife knows how to
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make cups… I went there once, and he ups and says, ‘Go and make us a cup, we’ve got a guest’. I said to her ‘What for? If you’re going to make any, make us a dozen! We haven’t got a lot of cups!’ So he says, ‘No, she’s going to make us a cup of tea!’… I’d said ‘No! Make a cup? Let her make a dozen!’ A factory, you mean, a factory! He says ‘No, what a headache!’ There isn’t anything you can say that somebody or other won’t be able to make a (clever) comment on. Amazing… anything you can say? Yes! Anything you say… and everything you say can have a (hidden) meaning… Now, what’s the meaning of the saying—we here say “xarIV fI marIV” … what is “l-xarIV fi l-marIV”? What does it mean? I’m asking you! I’m asking you! Now— Now— Have you answered me that I should— I don’t understand, do I? Right, never mind. I’ll give you the answer, and then I’ll ask you another question and you can give me the answer. Go ahead. “il-xarIV fi l-marIV”, may God reward you, means ‘shit in the bowels’. ‘Shit in the bowels’. What does “il-harIG fi l-marIG” mean? That’s a tough one too… what does it mean? Now I want the answer from you! I want it from you! Now! That’s learning! Please, you answer! What does that mean as well? Now I’m asking you, and you’re asking me! I’m asking you! I said “il-xarIV fi l-marIV” and I answered—I gave you the question and answered it myself… now I’ve given you a question, you have to answer! I don’t know… if I don’t know, what can I do? You answer! I asked you about “il-xarIV fi l-marIV”, now “il-harIG fi l-marIG”. It means, like, ‘chaos’… “harIG” means ‘speech’… or not? No, it does mean ‘speech’ but it has (another) meaning. What is the (other) meaning of it? What is the meaning of this? The meaning is ‘That one in that one’. Which one?
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chapter eight ‘That one in that one’. What does it mean, ‘that one in that one’? How d’you mean? Sheikh—Sheikh Ibrahim in Sheikh Isma’il! (laughs loudly) D’you get it? That is the “harIG— That’s dirty talk! “harIG fi marIG”. Dirty talk! This Sheikh who, I mean, gets a hard on, and (the other) submits to him, they call him the “harIG”… and the other one they call—the one who bends down for him, the one that bends for him—they call him the “marIG”.
Text 4: Speaker 76: {@lº (m1/3): religious obligations and social mores Speaker 76 was aged about 50, and close acquaintance of AIH. The other speaker in this extract, ‘S’, also from {@lº, was an older man who worked with him on the same farm. The extract, a conversation over the farmer’s coffee-break, opens with a complaint from S76 about the hypocrisy and meanness of the local Shº{º divines, one of whom, it seems, had recently been reminding his impecunious congregation about the necessity of paying the xumsa or ‘fifth’ of their income as a religious tithe, and offering communal hospitality on the birth of a boy. According to S76, the Shº{º jurists (SuyUx) never did either of these things themselves, despite their large families. ‘S’ plays devil’s advocate to S76 throughout, defending the religious authorities. The conversation then switches to me, to what I was doing in Bahrain, and to why I wasn’t at home helping my father like any unmarried son should! This in turn leads to enquiries about dowries and wedding hospitality in England, and who pays for what, the Bahrainis reacting with amused shock at the idea that the bride’s father traditionally pays for the wedding, and that the bridegroom pays no dowry. These customs are considered so bizarre by S76 that he challenges them as mu SarPi ‘not (religiously) legal’. He demonstrates the illegality by noting that, unlike the Prophet, Jesus never married and had no children, so any practices of the sort I described could not be legitimate, as they could not be based on Jesus’ sunna, which to a Muslim like him was the only acceptable source of authority for them. The tone of these exchanges was lighthearted and jokey, the main point for S76, a formally uneducated man but one obviously well-versed in the scriptures through regular attendance at the village mosque and mAtam, being to get the better of a visiting ‘Christian’ who could speak Arabic.
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BaGGarOna yA HaGGi min ayyAm Pala walad min PidCim88 E, walad Hamad bin mahdi walad yikUlUn yixaVbUnvh byParsUnvh... (indicating CH) vmParras v? mistvr klaif yabbUn yiParsUnvh wi lA hu mParras... ismaP mulla yUsif fi l-fAtiHa89... u hAda mulla yUsif Hatta lO wAHid yibUk hnAk fi dIratCim bawka90, lAzim yiPallimna biha, u yAxid flUs PalEha, lA91? hAD illi mJarbilinna! u Cillvh yiVri92 V-VaPAm93 u yiVri— il-mulla? E... mulla yUsif... yiVri V-VaPAm, hu mA GIt il-lEl titsammaP94 CEf v? ha-l-HadIf min illi qara?minhu? mulla yUsif! E! illi mA yixammis95 wES isawwi? illi mA yizakki, mA yiRalli maPlUm, lAkinnahu inta mata Sifna raGAGIn96 min ha-l-[*] u namUnatuh— hAD illi yiwaPPiB in-nAs—gAyib vflUs v? ila PAlim vmxamsinha, Hatta n-nAs tabaP lA?
88 The allusion is to a young man from Banº Jamra, AIH’s village, who had recently become engaged and was shortly to be married to a bride from S76’s village, but he had been killed in an accident a few days before. 89 The recording was made on land at the edge of the village, and it so happened we could hear Mulla Yusif reciting the fAtiHa at a funeral a hundred or so metres away. This was not the funeral of the boy killed in the accident. 90 yibUk... bawka: the use of such root-echoic structures, in this case similar to the mafPUl muVlaq of CLA, is common in uneducated B village speech. S76 produces another example in S76-24: bAlIn rUHCim balAwi. 91 Mulla Yusif was apparently considered something of a gossip in the B village communities of the area. It is unclear how or why he was ‘getting paid for it’. 92 Vara ‘to mention’ also used in this sense in southern Arabia; in northern Arabia it means ‘think, consider’. VAri is ‘subject of conversation, topic’. The root is etymologically connected with CLA V-r-Q. 93 S76 is referring to Mulla Yusif’s readings in the local mAtam, in which he had detected a bias towards ones that dealt with food, implying that Mulla Yusif may have been hoping to be offered hospitality by his listeners in consequence. 94 Theme V tsammaP (vn tasmUP) in B parlance is specifically ‘to listen to readings at the mAtam’, especially but not exclusively during Mu¥arram. 95 xammas ‘to give alms’. This is zakAt, a religious tithe (though as the word suggests, actually a fifth—xumsa) on one’s wealth. 96 Sic, for raGAGIl.
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chapter eight lA, mu lizim97! mA hu lizima98, PaGal bass! lA tilzim il-PAlam! yisayyirha Pind JEruh! d-rayyiH bAlvk! illi yixammis inPirfuh! min itHUl is-sana99 gAy yirkuB... ham kAl baPad lEna SEx aHmad, allah yiVawwil Pumruh ... yigUl hAda l-walad, ida allah wahabk walad, wAGib PalEk tsawwi lih PakIka100... wa ida mA sawwa l-abu l-PakIka, hu ilEn allah makkanvh yisawwi Pan nafsvh... aku Pindhim al-HIn l-iSyUx Cil wAHid falAfIn walad... samPAn101 min wAHid sAk-in102 wAHid mA?! bass illa “taPAl sallim lik falAfa, arbaPat AlAf” Pala PazImat hAda— al-PakIka hAdi, u tAli mA tadri wES iRIr hu hAda l-walad! wES yaPni il-PaqIqa al-HIn?103 tidbaH Pannvh104, u taPVi hAdi l-kAbla wark u tikUl “SaHmvha Pan SaHmvh, u dammvha Pan dammvh, u laHmvha Pan laHmvh”... I, yikUn tsallim ilvk lAzim falAfat AlAf, ya HaGGi! hAy il-PakIka...hA, CAn inta bass illa!105 lO inta bittAbiP il-awAmir illi tiVlaP min l-iSyUx ithIm fi l-barr! u mA sawwaw Hatta Hna nsawwi! xallha Pal allah! iHna nibJa wAHid yikUn— hAda RAdik illi hnAk fi zirAPat il-HukUma mA sawwaw Pannvh PakIka, lAkin raGGAl-in106 zEn...
lizim ‘to make obligatory’ lizima or lazman ‘necessarily, obligatorily’. 99 HOl is-sana is ‘a whole year’. min itHUl is-sana ‘at the turn of the year’. 100 PakIka (CLA PaqIqa) is the name for the hair of a newborn boy, which is shaved off seven days after birth. The term is also used for the sheep or goat that is traditionally slaughtered on the occasion of the shaving, the meat being distributed to the poor. This is an ancient custom (attested for pre-Islamic Egypt), which the Prophet sanctioned and which is still widespread in traditional milieus. Jaussen describes it for Nablus in the 1920s in JAU 37-39. The PaqIqa was never an obligation, but something expected of the well off. S76 is complaining that the mulla is enjoining it on his listeners as an obligation, even though, he claims, the mullas themselves never do it. 101 As in most Arabic dialects, the faPlAn form is used adjectivally in the Bahraini dialects in verbal roots with a stative, intransitive meaning. In the B dialects however (but it seems not in the A), when a participle with verbal function is required, faPlAn often replaces fAPil in verbs that are transitive but in the CLA i-theme vowel category. Thus, as here, samPAn ‘hearing, having heard’ with verbal function, but sAmiP ‘hearer’ with nominal function. This morphosyntactic distinction is also found in the sedentary dialects of Oman. 102 Dialectal tanwIn. 103 AIH asks this question not because he doesn’t know the answer, but to keep S76 talking, for my benefit. 104 Pan in this phrase, and in the saying which follows it, signifies ‘for the sake of’ or ‘instead of’, since the sacrifice of the animal delivers the newborn infant from Hell. A similar idea lies behind the ‘sacrifice’ of the pot-plants (Hiyya biyya) that young girls traditionally made by throwing them into water channels at the Feast of the Immolation (see Childhood). This custom is also in all probability of ancient pre-Islamic origin. 105 Lit ‘if you were only except that’ ≈ ‘if only things were that simple!’/ ‘as if that’s all you had to think about!’ 106 Dialectal tanwIn in this type of noun-adjective phrase is relatively common. 98
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(***********************************************) hAdOla yixalRUn Pumurhum, haGGi, fi l-Pilm, mA yiHsib, lA, namUnatna... tiHaRlUn maPana min SarikAt, yaPni? yaPni ha-d-drUs— minHa min il-HukUma yaPVUnna minHa, minHa... Cidi yaPni sintEn, TalAT sanawAt il-HukUma tiRruf PalEh ida ibtala l-insAn vb falAfat awlAd u hAda SuJvlhim— lA, mA Pindvh, il-awlAd wi lA nasIb mA niHCi fi l-abu— abUh tawwvh mA yaHtAG ilEh... abUh, SuJlvh zEn, yaPni... hu abUh, Pindvh niswA— il-banAt, waHda mitzawwiGa, waHda tidris, baPIda Pannvh zEn, u hAda z-zawAG baPad, in-niswAn mAl hAdElEn baPad, balwa baPad! yisallim il-mahar abUha baPad! mA fIh mahar, lA? Pindvna mA fIh! mahar mA miS! mA yAPVOnhum mahar! ana maTalan arUH abJi atzawwaG min waHda, arUH Cidi bass... asQalha tabbIni, mA tabbIni, u iDa tabbIni, bass, xalAR! nitzawwaG, mA fIh mahar, wi lA fIh Say! wallah zEn! xOS! hAdElEn yigUlUn yisallim il-mahar, yisallim dElEn ihni, baPBhum yaPni? lA, baPBhum yigUl lik in il-inglIz— il-mara tsallim il-mahar! abu l-bnayya yidfaP il-mahar— E, min nAHyat abu l-bint, hu l-masQUl Pan it-takAlIf mAl iz-zafAf... (laughs) hu baPad rAPi sawAlif107 baPad! bannid PalEna hAdi, bannidha108!(laughs) hu yidfaP yaPni kul it-takAlIf, yaPni il-aklAt u hADi— iB-BIfa killvh Pala l-abu —Hagg il-maPzUmIn... il-masQUl Pan hADi, abu l-bnayya... ballah PalEC109, HAlat awAdim Cidi! maTalan iDa Pindvk TamAn, tisaP banAt, balwa, liQann kil waHda— lA, mu hu SarPi, mu hu SarPi RaHIH, hADa w al-kissIs mAlhim wES igUl? iS-SEx— yikbal? il-kissIs? taqrIban nafsi S-Say... yisawwUn Paqd Cidi, miTil il-baHrEn
rAPi lit ‘owner of’, but idiomatically, as here ‘characterised by’, ‘master of’. He means the small tape-recorder I was carrying. 109 As in other fixed phrases and text types (aphorisms, proverbs, riddles) associated with traditional B village culture, S76 uses -C for the 2nd person masculine enclitic where otherwise he uses -k. Compare with Text 3 above, S71-19 to S71-28. See CF for more detail. 108
324 S76-22 CH-10 S76-23 CH-11 S76-24 CH-12 S76-25 CH-13 S76-26
S-9 S76-27 AIH-7
chapter eight nzEn, u hAda l-kissIs ilih riBa ha-n-namUna hAdi yisawwi abu l-bint ha-l— hADi Say TAni, bass— ha-V-VarIqa hADi illi yistaPmilUnha mAxdInha min PIsa? PIsa mA tzawwaG! PIsa mA tzawwaG! RaHIH! (general laughter) baPad intUn bAlIn rUHCim balAwi, zaHma! abu famAn banAt mA yidfaP! (laughs) SlOn, yaPni? RaHIH mA tzawwaG... mHammad baPad tzawwaG, yaPni... minhu? in-nabi mHammad axad tisaP u fintEn mA axadhim baPad110... lES iHna yiRIr il-wAHid minna mA yigdar yamSi yAxid lih arbaP HarIm? iHna lAzim nAxid sigiyya min sagAya111 nabIna lA? u PIsa, u mUsa, u nUH ibn lamk u ibrAhIm il-xalIl wa muHammad112 ... hAdOla min QUlU l-Pazm113, hAdOla mA PalEhim anbiyA akbar minhim... PIsa, allAh GAbvh fi zamAn iV-Vibb wi RAr raQIs Pala l-QaVibba114, yiPAliG il-Qakmah wa l-abraR, u yiHyi l-mOta bi QiDn illAh... yixlukhim min iV-VIn ka hayQat iV-VEr, yinfax fIh yiRIr VEr bi QiDn illAh115... lAkin il-QaHmak mA gidar yiPAlGvh... u mA tzawwaG... RAr sAyiH fi l-barAri, “sirAGvh il-kamar, u aklvh iS-SaGar, lA mara tiftinvh, wi lA walad yiHzinvh”116... mA sawwa ha-n-namUna hAdi... hu baPad lO tzawwaG, u GAb banAt baPad, u sallamhum hu raPya117 li azwAGhim baPad, CAn itgUlUn “hADi sinnat PIsa”... PIsa mA tzawwaG inta al-HIn SUf! timSi wiyyAh, u yimSi wiyyAha! mA yixAlif il-maSi wiyyAha... d-aHna al-HIn gumna namSI wiyyAha u tamSi wiyyAh, mA yixAlif! hum illi GAybIn lEna ha-V-VarIqa, in-naRAra dElEn!
110 Nine is the number of marriages the Prophet is traditionally thought of as having contracted, though there were other less formal liaisons with slave-girls, such as Mary the Copt, which is perhaps what is being referred to in the phrase ‘and two he didn’t marry’. 111 Here the pronunciation is clearly a voiced velar stop < CLA G, typical of {@lº. 112 S76 is alluding to Q. 33, 7, where God’s covenant with these particular prophets is mentioned 113 A paraphrase of Q. 46, 44: QUlU l-Pazm mina r-rusul. 114 S76 explains what in Christian belief are Jesus’ miraculous activities by describing him as a ‘physician’ whose cures are always, as in the Quran, bi QiDn illAh ‘with God’s permission’. 115 The descriptions of Jesus’ modelling of, and bringing to life clay birds, his curing the blindfrom-birth and the leper, and his bringing the dead back to life are in Q. 3, 49 and 5, 110. Similar material occurs in the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas, Ch 2. S76’s words are a rough paraphrase of the Quranic verses. 116 A piece of dialectal SaGP that has no Quranic origin but seems to be a reference to Jesus during his temptation in the wilderness. 117 raPya is a verbal noun used adverbially (= CLA raPyan) ‘in order to protect them’. Cf lizima ‘obligatorily’ in S76-9.
sawa¯lif S76-28 S-10 CH-14 S76-29 S-11 S76-30
325
him illi JarbilOna! (general laughter) lA, lA, mA JarbilOna! SlOn, yaPni, SlOn?! iHna JarbalnAkum SlOn? E, yaPni in baJa yAxid Hirma yimSi wiyyAha Hatta taPruf aVbAPvh u yiPruf aVbAPha, lA yiRIr tAli baPad— fitna GinGAl, yiRIr baPad Say mu hu zEn
Text 4: translation S76-1 AIH-1 S76-2 AIH-2 S76-3
AIH-3 S76-4 S-1 S76-5 S-2 S76-6 S-3 AIH-4 S-4 AIH-5 S76-7 S-5 S76-8
S-6 S76-9 S-7 S76-10
They’ve been bothering us for days about some lad from your village. Yes, the son of Ýamad bin Mahdi. A boy they say they were getting engaged and were going to get married… (indicating CH) Is he married? Mr Clive here, they want to get him married but he isn’t married… Listen to Mulla Yusif reading the fAtiHa…. This Mulla Yusif—someone only has to steal something over there in your village, and he has to come and tell us all about it… and he gets paid for it, doesn’t he? He’s the one that’s messing us about! And he’s always going on about food, and going on about— The mulla? Yes, Mulla Yusif, he goes on about food, he does! But you didn’t go at night to hear him read! What d’you mean? The sayings of the Prophet. Who is it that read? Who? Mulla Yusif! Right! The man who can’t give alms—what’s he supposed to do? Anyone who doesn’t pay alms shouldn’t pray! Understood, but when have we ever seen (*rich?) men and the like of him—the sort that sermonises about it to people—bringing his own money to a religious man so that he can take a fifth of it, as an example for ordinary folk to do the same? No, he didn’t say it was an obligation! If it doesn’t have to be done obligatorily, then fine—don’t make it an obligation! Maybe he gives it to somebody else to distribute! Have it your way, then! We know very well the man who pays his fifth to charity—at the turn of the year he comes running. Sheikh Ahmad told us as well, may God give him long life… He says ‘For this son,
326
AIH-6 S76-11
S76-12
AIH-7 CH-1 AIH-2 S76-13 AIH-3 S76-14 AIH-4
S76-15 CH-2
S-7 S76-16 CH-3 AIH-5
chapter eight if God grants you a son, it’s your duty to lay on a banquet. And if the father doesn’t lay on a banquet, the son should do it on his own behalf, whenever God enables him to afford it’. Now these religious men, every one of them’s got thirty sons… and have you ever heard of one of them offering so much as a drink of water to anyone?! But it’s just ‘Come and pay out three or four thousand!’ for this invitation to everyone, for this banquet, and afterwards you don’t even know how the lad’s going to turn out! What exactly is this ‘banquet’? You slaughter an animal for him, and you give the midwife a leg, and say ‘This fat is for his fat, this blood for his blood, this meat for his meat’… Yes, you would definitely shell out three thousand, Hajji! That’s the ‘banquet’. As if that’s all you had to worry about! If you followed the instructions that emanate from the religious men, you’d end up wandering about like a madman in the desert! And they haven’t done it, so why should we? Forget it! We want someone who is—that Õ¸diq that’s over there at the Government Farm… they didn’t do a ‘banquet’ for him, but he’s turned out to be a good man! (***********************************************) Those people spend their lives, Hajji, studying… they don’t think like we do… Do they get money from our companies here? I mean, these studies— It’s a grant from the government. They give us a grant, a grant… for two or three years. His government pays for him. If someone is lumbered with three kids, and that’s all the work they do— No, he hasn’t got any, children or (dependent) relatives. We haven’t talked about his father— His father doesn’t need him now… his father’s got a good job… his father has got wom—daughters, one married, the other studying away from home. And their marriage now, the women dependents these people have, what a headache! The father has to pay her dowry! There’s no dowry, d’you see? With us, there isn’t any dowry! They don’t give one. Me, for example, if I want to go and get married, I just go like that… I ask her ‘Do you want me or not?’ and if she wants me, that’s it! We get married—there’s no dowry or anything. That’s good! Nice! These people say he has to pay a dowry. These people here? Some people here, you mean? No, some people say that with the English, it’s the woman that pays the dowry. The girl’s father pays the dowry—
sawa¯lif CH-4 S76-17 CH-5 AIH-6 CH-6 S76-18 CH-7 S76-19 CH-8 S76-20 S-8 S76-21 CH-9 S76-22 CH-10 S76-23 CH-11 S76-24 CH-12 S76-25 CH-13 S76-26
327
Yes, from the girl’s father’s side, he’s responsible for the expenses of the wedding party. (laughs) This one knows how to chat too, he does! But turn that thing off, turn it off! (laughs) He pays all the expenses, the food and that— The hospitality offered is all paid by the father. — for the guests… It’s the bride’s father that’s responsible for that. My goodness! Fancy people doing that! For instance, if you’ve got eight or nine daughters, it’s a headache, because every one of them— No, that can’t be lawful from a religious point of view, not lawful. No, it’s true, that! What do the clergymen say about it? The religious men— Do they accept that? The clergymen? It’s more or less the same… they conclude a marriage contract, like in Bahrain. Right, now this clergyman, is he content for the girl’s father to act in this way? That’s a different matter, but— Did they take this way of going about things from Jesus? Jesus didn’t marry! Jesus didn’t marry! True! (general laughter) And you are really putting yourselves in a fix, what a headache! A father with eight daughters couldn’t pay! (laughs) How so? It’s true that (Jesus) didn’t marry. Mu¥ammad, however, did marry. Who d’you mean? The Prophet Mu¥ammad. He married nine times, and two others he didn’t marry. Why is that anyone of us, even one who can’t even walk, marries four wives? We have to follow the practice of our Prophet, right? And Jesus, and Moses, and Noah son of Lamk, and Abraham, and Mu¥ammad. Those were the men of resolution and constancy, there were no prophets greater than them… God brought Jesus in the Age of Medicine, and he became Chief of the Physicians, treating the blind and the lepers, and bringing the dead back to life, with God’s permission. He could create them (= birds) from clay in the shape of a bird, and blow into them and they would become a (living) bird, with God’s permission. But he couldn’t cure the lunatic… and he didn’t marry… He wandered in the wilderness, ‘the moon for his lamp, and trees for food, with no woman to lead him astray him, nor a child to distress him’. He didn’t behave in the way (you describe)… If he had married, and had daughters, and had then
328
S-9 S76-27 AIH-7 S76-28 S-10 CH-14 S76-29
S-11 S76-30
chapter eight delivered them to their husbands to protect them, you would have been able to say ‘That was Jesus’ practice’… but Jesus didn’t marry. See now what’s happening—girls walking out with boys, and boys with girls! Never mind if he goes out with her! Our boys have started walking out with girls, and our girls with boys, that’s fine! It’s these people that have brought us this behaviour, these Christians! It’s them that have messed us up! (general laughter) No, no, they haven’t! How? How have we messed you up? Yes, if someone wants to marry a woman, he goes out with her so that she gets to know what he’s like and he knows what she’s like, so that later on there’s no— Trouble. Quarrelling, and things that are not good.
appendix 1a: hull shapes of pearling boats
APPENDICES
329
330
appendices
appendices
APPENDIX 1A: HULL SHAPES OF PEARLING BOATS
331
appendices
332
APPENDIX 1B: BOAT PARTS
Key 1 2 3 4
13 14 15 16
8
fannat it-tifar stern raised half-deck (‘poop’) l-vsrIdAn the firebox for cooking il-JElami the mizzen-mast banAdIl (sing bindUl) it-tifar the aft areas of the main deck (is-saVHa) (sleeping area for sailors) id-digal the main-mast il-Pabd the samson post (supporting the main mast) banAdIl is-sadar the forward areas of the main deck (sleeping area for sailors) fannat is-sadar bow raised half-deck
9
il-GawAlI (sing GAli) the hold-covers
21
10 11 12
it-trIC the sheer-strake il-kAtli (or kATli or kAtri) captain’s sleeping bench il-kAna the tiller
22 23 24 25
5 6 7
17 18 19 20
il-bindEra or in-naSar the flag iR-RIwAn covered area ir-rEl the rail il-gAyim the stanchion (one of a pair, supporting it-tiPrAFa the cross-beam) il-PannAfa the head of the stem-post mEl is-sadar the stem-post axnAn (sing xinn) is-sadar forward holds xinn il-wasaV mid-ships hold (for it-tanki the water tank) il-wAnis hold for cooking utensils (and sometimes food) CAmra hold for sails banAdir aft holds mEl it-tifar the stern-post is-sukkAn the rudder
appendices
APPENDIX 1C: SAILS, MASTS, AND RIGGING
Key 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
il-JElami the mizzen mast id-drUr (sing darr) robands (points for attaching sail to yard) il-gabb (or gubb) the mast-head id-digal the main-mast il-PamarAni shifting stay or runner. il-bIwAr shifting stay il-farman or il-farmal the lateen-yard il-yUS the tack (forward lower end of sail) id-dastUr the bow-sprit il-PAlya (pl PawAli) side of the bow from the waterline to the top of the forecastle gunwhale il-wEh the side of the hull il-Pabd the samson-post (supporting the mast) il-bIR the keel il-mIdAf (pl mayAdIf) the oar id-dAmin the clew (aft lower end of sail)
333
334
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
335
DIALECT, CULTURE AND SOCIETY IN EASTERN ARABIA VOL I: GLOSSARY ADDENDA AND CORRIGENDA A few items of dialectal vocabulary that occurred in the texts were missed in the compilation of the Glossary, and in few cases items were mistranslated owing to a misunderstanding of the text, or to a mishearing of the original tape recordings. These have been respectively added and corrected here. Also, a few significant cross-references to other Gulf dialects and CLA have been added, as have some possible etymologies of foreign words. Page xxx 1 5 5 6 6
10 13 17
25 29 29 32 33
For mAxAzu read maxAzU Root Correction/ addition A Add cross-reference sub v /interrog part/: REIN 34: idem. }-TH-L Sub aTal meaning should read: ‘tamarisk’. ’-J-R Sub aGar read maksUb for maksab. }-Ý-D Sub aHad add after maHHad: ‘and laHHad see sub L-A.’ }-Ý-D B speakers generally use iHdaPSar whether a noun follows it or not; A speakers generally have iHdaPSar when a noun follows, but iHdaPaS without the final -ar when there is no noun following: il-iHdaPaS min aS-Sahar the eleventh of the month. The same holds true of all the numbers 11-19. ’-D-Y Sub adda: add meaning 5 spend (time). nagPad u niQaddi l-PaRAri... we would sit and spend the afternoons… ’-S-L Sub asl /coll n/ rushes, add: (juncos rigidus). ’-L-H Sub balla add meaning 2 expression of entreaty ≈ please. HaGGi trUH li ha-d-duktUr u b-ifId-ik ana mitQakkid yaPni... balla yaPni Hajji, if you go to this doctor I’m sure he’ll help you… please do it. ’-H-N Add lemma: ahAna: see under L-H-N. B-T-T2 Sub batta /n/: the translation should read ‘type of silk’. B-T-L2 Add cross-reference sub battIl: GLOS 178 idem < Port batel type of boat. B-D-Ý bidH and badh /n/: the common name of this fish is ‘silver biddy’ B-D-N2 Add new root and lemma: badaniyya /n/ human body. fIh fawAyid min ROb il-badaniyya there are benefits to be had for the body (sc. from fasting).
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
336 33
B-DH-DH
35
B-R-D1
42
B-SH-R
44
B-Þ-}
44
B-Þ-L2
54
B-M-B-{
56
B-N-W
61
B-Y-T
62
B-Y-|
68 73
T-S-‘ T-Y-R1
75
TH-R-Y
76
TH-L-TH
Sub baDD: the meaning should be ‘to wear out’, and the example translated: ‘see, the first one’s worn out, (but) it’s all made of cement’. Cf HAV 25 baDDa idem for CLA. bard: in ‘before or after 15 May to 15 September’ delete ‘or after’. Add cross-reference sub bSAr: HANZ 82: idem silk covering. Sub biVa Add: 2 buVa mA (B villages only) /conj/ if, when (cf. the conjunctive uses of (mA) dAm, im dAm ‘to last’) buVa mA tikUm in-naxla tAli, mA agdar when the palmtrees start growing later, I can’t (spare the time). Cf GLOS 179: baVa take a long time, be late; 180: baVA a long time. Sub baVVAli: in the example under meaning 2, for vmhayyiG read vmHayyiG. Sub bambaP: correct cross-reference: the word occurs in EADS 75 with the same meaning. Add cross-reference sub bnAw: REIN 24: bnAwa stepsister. Sub bayyat: for ‘put out or leave overnight’ read ‘put away overnight’, and for ‘put them out (in the sea) for the night’ read ‘put them away for the night’. Sub bayyat: the translation of the second example sentence should read: ‘they would take a bit of left over food, and put it away’. Add lemma: mbayyat in RandUg l-vmbayyat large ebony chest with brass decoration used for the storage of clothes, jewellery and valuables, a furnishing of the traditional farSa, or wedding chamber. HAN 334: idem Sub bayyaB 2 tin-plate: the example is incorrectly transcribed. See RandUg l-vmbayyat above. tisaPtaPSar: see iHdaPSar. Sub tayyAr: add cross-reference: cf GLOS 2240 VayyAr, REIN 49 ViyAr ‘ready, finished’ (lit ‘flying’). Add to the translation of Trayya: ‘with an inverted triangular pattern of gold coin-shaped spangles, between twenty and eighty in number, embroidered on at the waist’. Sub TilT: add meaning 3 [pearl] (syn of glAVa) share of the profits realised on a pearling catch (of which each diver got three, each rope-men two, and each raBIf (qv)
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
77 78 81
TH-M-N TH-N-Y CH-W-T
81
CH-Y-K-W
84 87
J-DH-{ J-Z-}
96
J-W-Z
97
J-Y-}
98 99
Ý-A-G-W-L Ý-B-B
102
Ý-T-Y
111
Ý-S-S
114-5
Ý-SH-SH
337
one, under the normal arrangement). TalATtaPSar and falAftaPSar: see iHdaPSar. TamantaPSar: see iHdaPSar. iTnaPSar and ifnaPSar: see iHdaPSar. Sub CwIt /n/: the meaning should read ‘bluing, a blue powder used in washing clothes in order to add whiteness’ Add new root and lemma: CIko /n/ young, offspring of animal or (metaphorically) plant (= self-setting seedling, or graft). S1: hAda l-CIko mA yifId fIh illa Cidi S2: aw faVIma aw nagIla S1: it’s only in this way that the ‘baby’ plant gets the benefit S2: whether as a graft or a transplanted seedling. BRO 135: SIku, SIko, tSIko a baby, human or animal. Poss < CLA Sakw small lamb, camel (L 1590); or < Spanish chico small, tiny; child. GidP: is also used to refer to the main stalk of any plant. Add root and lemma: yizaw (A) /n/ part. yixatmUn TalATIn il-yizaw ‘they would complete (the reading of) the thirty parts (of the Koran)’. Add lemma: GOza /n/ wife (A only, nowadays usually zOGa) Vabbaw bass CiDi an yiHallilUn DAk GOztvh PalEh they dived just so as to make the man’s wife permissible to him once more. Sub Ga: sAkta in tyI-ni sAkta! ‘I’m having a heart-attack’ should read sakta. HAgUl /n/: the common name of this fish is ‘needlefish’ Add lemma: Habbab /vt/ kiss, embrace. nAs yibArkUn lEha u yiHabbibUn-ha people congratulate her (= new bride) and kiss her. GLOS 333: idem Sub Hatta: add after 1: and Hatta in/ an, with the example: Hatta in al-milUHa tinzil fi l-arB … so that the salinity in the soil is reduced. GLOS 350: Hattan idem; BLA 136: Hattan(i) in order to, in the Christian dialect of Baghdad. Sub HAssiyya: meaning 1: the meaning of the example is rather ‘I got more and more anxious’. Under meaning 2: for abUG read abUg. Add to the meanings of HaSS given: ‘to weed’. Sub HaSAS: in the example sentence on p. 115, HaSAS is being used as a verbal noun of HaSS rather than as meaning ‘weeds’. The translation should therefore read ‘does it (just) need weeding, or does it need a spade?’ Sub mHaSS: the correct
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
338
119
Ý-DH-R .
130
Ý-M-Q
131
Ý-M-L
131
Ý-M-Y2
135
Ý-W-L
138
Ý-Y-Y
143 147
KH-R-R KH-R-F
149
KH-SH-SH
154
KH-F-R
154
KH-F-Q
161 162 163
KH-M-S KH-N-N2 KH-W-B
164
KH-W-R
168 183
D-B-S1 D-H-D-H
183
D-H-SH
gloss is not strictly ‘sickle’ but ‘short-handled, sickleshaped hoe’. Add cross-reference sub HaBBar: GLOS 432, REIN 57 idem to enclose with a fence. Sub istaHmag: the cross-reference to W&B 119 should be inhumaq ‘to get angry’. Add lemma: HamgAn /adj/ angry, vexed. Sub Hamal meaning 3: the second example should read wi taHbil il-bint... not tiHmil il-bint... and the example should appear under Habal meaning 2 on p. 101. Sub HAmi: mAy HAmya u hawa should read mAya HAmya u hawa and the translation should read ‘there was a strong current, and a wind’. Add lemma: HOliyya /prep/ approximately, about. Cidi HOliyya xams sAPa Cidi around about five hours. Sub istaHa: the literal meaning of kil waqt mA yistaHi min waqt-vh is ‘no season of the year should be ashamed of its weather.’ Add cross-reference: REIN 178 idem leak. Add lemma: muxrafa /n/ basket woven from rushes (asl) used in the picking of individual dates (xarAf). Add lemma: xaSSaS /vt/ hide, put away (for safe keeping). u nxalli naPalatna u nxaSSiS-hum we would take off our sandals and put them away. Sub xAfUr: as well as to the seedbed itself, this word may also refer to the seedlings produced in the seedbed before they are transplanted into aSrAb (when they are referred to as nagAyil). Sub xaffak: add cross-reference: HANZ 195: xaffag to put something though a sieve. xamstaPSar: see iHdaPSar. xinn: the pl is axnAn. Add cross-reference sub xOb: < Pers xUb good, pleasant (ST 481). Add lemma: xawwar /vt vn xwAr/ embroider. buxnag mxawwar, fIh siffa u xwAr traditional girl’s hood with piping and (gold) embroidery (from the neck down the front). Cf GLOS 659 xawr nape of the neck. madbasa: an alternative pronunciation is mdabbasa Add cross-reference sub dIhdIh: The word may be a corruption of Pers dihAdih ‘from all quarters’ (STE 548). Add lemma: dAhaS /vt/ (B villages only) put in order,
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
184
D-W-B
189
D-W-N
191
DH-B-B
192
DH-R-{
197 198
R-B-‘ R-B-L
199
R-J-{
202
R-D-D
205
R-SH-SH
205
R-SH-Ý
206
R-Þ-B
207
R-{-Y
208
R-F-T
339
tidy up (land). adAhS-vh, aPadl-vh PaSAn b-aguVV fIh samAd tAli I’ll clean it up properly, get it all straight, because I’m going to put fertiliser on it after. Possibly a variant of dAPas ‘to work (the land)’ (qv) also a B village agricultural term. Sub dAb (u) /vn vt nr/ leak: the vn is dOb. In line with the principle of listing words under their CLA cognates, this should have been listed on p. 193 under DH-W-B, of which it is a (B) phonological variant. Add meaning 2 to dUn /prep/ near. Add meaning 2 to dUni /adj/ adjacent, nearby. Add example: il-maHHAr maDbUb fi l-arF the clams were scattered over the seabed. Sub DrAP and drAP: for the pl /aDrAP/ read /aDruP and adruP (B)/. For aDrAP in the final example sentence read adruP. arbaPtaPSar: see iHdaPSar. Add lemma: rabil /n/ rubber. < Eng rubber. SME 73: idem. Add cross-reference sub aryaP: TAG (II) 449: harya! ‘Lower (the sail)!’ rdUd ir-rAs: the ‘Return of the Head’ is on 20th Õafar and commemorates the miraculous return of Ýusayn’s head from Damascus to Kerbela. Sub rASS: the correct literal translation of the proverb is ‘he who wants to sail north has to put up with the spray’. Sub raSaH: the translation of the example sentence should read ‘the (sea)-water was leaking in (to our boat)’. Sub raVVab: in the quoted example sentence, read tiraVVib for yiraVVib. raPya /n/ is incorrect. The form should be raPy and the example should read sallam-hum raPya li azwAG-him, in which raPya is an adverbial, and the meaning is ‘he delivered them to their husbands in order to protect them’. raft: this word was misheard on the original taperecording, and is in fact the technical agricultural term rafB (and should be under R-F-|) whose meaning is ‘a small plot of cultivated land with no regular irrigation’. The meaning of the example is therefore ‘I have a small unirrigated plot which I will make over to Manª¢r’. The same incorrect translation appears under meaning 2 of kitab on p. 451
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
340 208
R-F-‘
219 219
Z-B-B Z-B-D
219
Z-B-R
221
Z-R-Q
224
Z-M-L-Q
226 230 230 231
Z-W-L2 S-B-Þ-Y S-B-‘ S-B-Y
231 234
S-T-T S-Ý-L
234
S-KH-N
240
S-F-L
241
S-Q-Y
240
S-Q-B
246
S-L-M
249 250 251
S-M-D S-M-{ S-N-N
Add example: rafaP il-arB he raised (the level of) the growing plot (by adding sand). Add lemma: zibIb /coll n/ dry, shrivelled dates. Add lemma: zbEdi /n/ Malabar jack, a type of fish (carangoides malabaricus) Sub zabbar: move cross-reference: HAN 158 (Baghdad): idem trim (e.g. a tree) from sub tzabbar. Sub zarrag: meaning 1 should read ‘row (a boat) in on the tide, beach or shore a boat’. The reference to ‘woodenrollers’ in the translation of the example is wrong. Add cross-reference to TAG Vol II: 372. Sub zamlak and zamlUk add: meaning 2 type of tall daisy growing up to 40 cm high (buck’s-horn groundsel, senecio glaucus) Add cross-reference sub zUliyya: REIN 46: zOlyje idem. sbEVi /n/: the common name for this fish is ‘silver pomfret’ sabaPtaPSar: see iHdaPSar. sAbya /n/ for meaning 1 female prisoner should read sabiyya and be entered as a separate lemma. sAbya is correct for meaning 2 large group, crowd. sittaPSar: see iHdaPSar. Add cross-reference sub swAHili: W&B 215: xAm sawAHil rough, unbleached cotton cloth. Sub saxxan: add meaning 2: /vi/ to run a fever. bass yisaxnUn, yimUtUn they just ran a fever for a couple or three days, and died. Delete lemma tsaxxan. The example should have appeared under meaning 2 of saxxan. Add under sAfil: meaning 2 south. fi HalUl, sAfil hnAk in Ýal¢l, down south. HANZ 285 idem. Add lemma: sAfili /adj/ south, southern. Add example under meaning 2: sAkyit-in-ni l-JaRR she has given me hell (lit ‘made me drink what chokes me’) Add lemma: misgi /n/ inlet from an irrigation trench into a seedling bed. Sub sigab: an alternative vn to sagAb is sgUba (which can also mean ‘mast’). Sub silm and Rilm: meaning 1 should read ‘core, stone (of a fruit)’ not ‘core, pith’. Sub samad: the vn is samd. Add cross-reference sub samPAn: REIN 17: idem. Sub sann: add under meaning 2: vn sanna 2a leave port, set out on a sea-journey. Add example: min yisinn ilEn
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
252 252
S-N-B-L S-N-T-R
253
S-N-D-W-S
253 253
S-N-H S-N-W
255 256
S-W-R S-W-Q
259
S-Y-Ý
260
S-Y-R
262 267
SH-A-L SH-D-D
272
SH-{-B
275 277
SH-F-Y SH-L-KH
283
SH-W-L
290
Õ-B-Ý
291
Õ-B-W
341
yigaffil, killvh mHammar, rAyiH from the time he (= captain) left port to the time he declared an end to the season, (the food) was just mHammar (qv), the whole time. 2b sail in a southerly direction (opposite of Palla in a northerly direction) Sub sinbil: add meaning 2 peanuts. Add lemma: santar /adv/ straight, undeviating. tamSi santar Pala l-xEV you can follow the (guide) string without deviating from it. < Eng centre. Add cross-reference sub sandUs: Cf REIN 55: sindAs privy. Both words < U sanBAs water-closet, sink, sewer. sAnah: should read: sAnah or sAnA /vi vn msAnAh, msAnA/ Add cross-reference sub sanna: HAV 340: sanA to irrigate a land (water wheel); KURP (IV) 816: sana to draw water from a well. Seedlings require much well water. Insert after swAr: and swEr pl -At. Add lemma: miswAga /n/ whip used set a whipping-top (HambUR) spinning. Add lemma: sayyAH /ad/ wanderer, traveller. tAyih sayyAH hu he was a wanderer, who travelled around. Add lemma: sEr /n pl syUr/ cord, string (used in agriculture). GLOS 2008: idem. Sub meaning 1 of SAl add /pl aSyAl/ Sub meaning 4 add example: saww rUH-ik Sway SAdd be a little bit insistent. Add cross-references sub miSPAb: BRO 133: idem wide irrigation-channel; cf. VID 216: miSPab vertical pole in hand-operated water lift. Like dAlya and dUlAb (qv), miSPAb may originally have designated the type of farm plot irrigated by the device of which it was part. Add cross-reference sub Safya: REIN 58: SfIya present. Sub Sallax add meaning 2 to crack, split. vnkassir u nSallix id-dawAwIm mAl rabaP-na we would break and split the spinning tops of our mates. Sub SwEl /n/ gloss should read: ‘alkali weed’ (cressa cretica). Add lemma: RubHiyya /n pl RabAHi/ morning. iyUn-ha lfirIG killv-hum, kil RubHiyya the whole of the neighbourhood came and visited her, every morning. Add lemma: RAba /vi vn mRAbA/ [naut] roll (ship, in a swell).... an lA yitnaffar min kufr l-vmRAbA mAl il-mAya ...so that (the clams) would not be scattered about (on
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
342
291
Õ-Ý-Ý
295
Õ-R-F
296
Õ-R-M
300
Õ-F-Y
304
Õ-W-B
309
|-KH-M
310
|-R-R
318
Þ-Ý-N
324
Þ-L-B
332
Þ-Y-B
334
Þ-Y-H
334
DH-{-N .
339
{-T-R-SH
345
‘-R-S
345
{-R-SH
the deck) by the ship rolling in the swell. TAG Vol II 365: idem; HAV 388: idem to incline a spear (for striking). Add lemma: RiHHiyya /n/ health. ana PAd RJayra lAkinna RiHHiyyati zEna I was still only young, but I was hale and hearty. Add cross-reference sub Raraf meaning 2: BRO 142: idem (of a cow) to noisily want the bull. Add lemma: Rirma and Rurma /n/ small irrigated palmgrove. Sub RarAm the page reference to HANZ should read 349, not 439. RAfi /n/: the common name of this fish is ‘rabbitfish’ or ‘spinefoot’. Add cross-reference sub RawAb: ING 180 RwAb a wound. Add cross-reference sub tRawwab: ING 180: Rawwab to wound. Sub BaxIm: add: and vFxIm (A). Example should read rayyAl vFxIm Add under meaning of Barr 1 the following example: fih BrUra he’s been touched (by Ginn). TAG Vol II 4712: idem; BRO 148: iS-SaxR il-mustaBarr the afflicted person (at an exorcism). Add lemma: mitBarrir /adj/ = minBarr. Sub VaHIn: add meaning 2: ‘pollen’ of the male palmtree. BRO 150: idem. Add lemma: Valab/n/ debt. PalEhum Valab they had an outstanding debt against them. Sub VIb /n/: add meaning 2 perfume. bass gahwa u CAy u VIb (at the end of the meal the guests had) just tea, coffee, and perfume (sprinkled on them). Vayyih: should have been placed under root Þ-W-Y on p. 332. maFPan: can also be used to refer to the land on which summer quarters were erected. Sub PitriS /n/ type of grass: add: ‘tolerant of high salinity’ (aeluropus lagopoides). maPArIs: can also mean ‘newly-weds’, ‘newly married couples’. Sub PirSAn: for incorrect ‘grass, seaweed’, read ‘rocky seabed where there are stones or coral reefs’ and correct the translation of the example accordingly. Add cross ref: SERJ (I) 504 n.66: idem.
addenda and corrigenda to vol i 345 348 348
{-R-| {-Z-L {-Z-M
349 350
{-S-J {-SH-R-Q
351
{-Õ-R
355
‘-Q-B
360
{-L-M
360 362 364
{-L-W ‘-M-M ‘-M-Y
367
{-N-W
378 385
GH-R-GH-R GH-W-Õ
343
Sub ParB: add a further variant: PiriF (A). Sub PAzil: add: and PazzAl. Sub Pazam: add meanings: 1b intend. in kAn hu Pazam b-yiGIb badar gatt, niStvJil fi hAdi s-sawAyib if he’s thinking of bringing (me) some lucerne grass seed, I’ll work on those large seedbeds. 2b: instruct. mA iyIbUnhum, tAli RAr dEli, Pazam PalEhum they used not to bring them (= divers who die at sea) back to shore, then when (Major C.K.) Daly (= British Political Agent, 1920-26) came, he instructed them to. Sub POsiG: after ‘thorn bush’ add: (lycium shawii). Sub PiSrig: the English name of this plant is ‘Meccan senna’ (cassia italica). The boiled leaves are used as a laxative, and the seeds are said to be good for the stomach. Sub PaRriyya: pl should read PaRAri. Sub PaRRAra: add meaning 2: tube (of ointment, tooth-paste, etc.). Sub taPaRRar: add: and taPassar. Add to cross-references: cf CLA QaPsara to have a laborious childbirth’; taPaRRara ‘to become difficult (affair)’. Add lemma: PAkiba /n/ end. (B villages) samarat PAkibatha her life’s over, she’s had it. Add cross-reference sub Paggab: GLOS 2309: idem. Add lemma: istaPallam /vi/ learn, acquire an education. l-awwal yigUlUn il-bint iDa tistaPallam mA yabbUn-ha, mA yAxDUn-ha awwal in the old days they would say that if a girl got an education people wouldn’t want her, they wouldn’t marry her. Add lemma: PAli /adj/ north. Sub Pamm: add additional pl iPmAm. Sub Pama add example: walAkin kaQanna mA hu, yaPni, allah subHAna wa taPAla, PAmi-nn-vh Panha... mA gat bi xAVr-uh but it was as if God Almighty, may He be praised, had blinded him to her… he just didn’t think of her. Sub Panwa: in the example sentence, for zrUP read zrUb. Translation should read ‘... from animal byres’. Add lemma: mitPanni /adj/ deliberate, on purpose, aiming for. ana GIt mitPanni lvk I came especially for you. Cf GLOS 2337: taPannA to direct oneself to, make for. Alternative sing for JarAJIr blister, pustule, is JarJUr Sub JOR: translation of JOR il-bard is incorrect and should read ‘the early season diving (three weeks in April, syn of xAnCiyya (qv))’. Sub JER: the pl form JwARa should
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
344
397
F-SH-F-SH
398
F-Õ-L
399
F-Þ-R
400
F-Þ-M
401 404
F-Q-R F-L-J
405
F-L-K
417
Q-D-‘
422
Q-R-Q-F-N
422
Q-R-N
422
Q-Z-Z
423 423
Q-S-S Q-S-Y
423
Q-SH-R
read JawwARa and be placed in the entry for JawwAR as one its plurals. Add lemma: maJARa /n pl -At/ pearl fishery (syn of hEr (qv)). Add cross-reference sub faSfaS: Cf CLA (L 2400) faSSa l-qawm the people became fat (after leanness). Sub faRla: add: and fiRla; and to pl forms add: fiRlAt and fRil. Add lemma: fiVra /n/ food offered as a form of alms to neighbours, the poor, and passers-by during Ramadan. Sub faVIma: the definition should read: 1 plant cutting grafted onto the rootstock of another 2 new shoot which forms as a result of trailing branches striking roots into the soil. Sub faqIr: another pl is faqara. Add lemma: filaG and filiG (B) /vi vn nr/ to become semiparalysed, hemiplegic. xAyfIn Pal awlAd-hum Pan yifilGUn Pafyat-hum fearing that their children might become semiparalysed (from polio). Lemma falak /n/ ‘firmament’ is both incorrectly vowelled and translated; it should read: fulk /n/ [poet] boat. The translation of the example should read ‘the boat went so quickly you’d think it was flying’. Add cross-reference sub gidaP: Cf LA Vol VIII: 261 qadaPa min aS-SarAb to take small draughts from a drink. gargufAn /n/: the common name for this fish is ‘Haffara sea-bream’ (rhabdosargus haffara) Add cross-reference sub grAn: Until 1932 a unit of Persian coinage. gazz (i) /vt vn gazAz/ survey, measure: in view of its probable etymology (below), this lemma should be listed under a new root G-Z-Z on p. 445. Add cross-reference: < Pers gaz a yard for measuring with. There are similar denominative verbs for measuring from English borrowings: fawwat to measure < Eng foot. For kisIs read kissIs. Sub gAsa and kAsa: in first example, for ‘(= my crops)’ read ‘(= my sons)’. Sub giSr: the example under meaning 3: il-maHHAr il-giSir means ‘the rough clam-shells’ rather than ‘the (empty) clam-shells’, and should have been put under meaning 1 of agSar, since giSir is the plural adjective of agSar.
addenda and corrigenda to vol i 426
Q-Õ-B
433
Q-F-|
437
Q-L-F
437 438 442
Q-L-Y Q-N-Õ Q-W-M
452
K-T-R
455
K-R-B
462
K-L-L
466
K-M-L
466
K-N-D-R
467
K-N-R
467
K-N-{-D
467
K-W-T2
472
L-A
477
L-Z-Q
483
L-N-CH
345
Lemma gRAba: incorrectly heard on the original tape: for l-vgRAba read l-vmRAbA (see correction to p. 291 above). Add cross-reference: Cf GLOS 2539 for south Yemen and BRO 181 for Oman: qawwaB ‘to end, finish’. Add cross-reference sub gallaf: LA Vol IX: 291 qalafa ‘to insert palm fibres in the timbers of a ship and fill the gaps with tar’ (i.e. ‘caulk’) Add sub magli: and mgalla /n/ fried fish. Add lemma: mignaRa /n/ trap (for birds). Add lemma: gAyim /n pl gyAmi/ [naut] one of a pair of wooden stanchions which support the tiPrAFa (wooden bar, athwartships) in the aft half-deck, which supports a protective awning against the sun. Add cross-reference sub kitir: M&R 32: Pala kutur to one side. For karb stumps of palm-branches left after cutting, read karab. Add to cross-reference sub kill and Cill, etc. after meaning 1: REIN 35: kill bu all who… Sub kammal: add meaning 2: /vi/ be complete, assemble. lEn Cammalaw, arbaP, xams ayyAm it was four or five days before they reassembled (seamen, at the end of a furlough). Add cross-reference sub kandar: WKAS Vol 1: 378 kandara pole, perch for a hunting falcon, poss < T gönder staff, boom. Add cross-reference sub knAr: < Pers kunAr, kunnAr lotus fruit. Add cross-reference sub kanPad: LA Vol III: 383 idem type of fish. Add root and lemma: kUt /n/ nickname of the former British Political Agency in Man¸ma. Poss < U idem fort, or more likely < Eng court, as this was also the location of the court for legal cases involving people under British or Indian jurisdiction. Add: lA aHad and laHHad no-one, nobody. wi laHHad yadrI bih no one knew he even existed. lazzAg /n/: the common name for this fish is ‘shark sucker’. Add sub cross-reference: According to AGU 44, the origin of the term is Malay lanchar ‘swift’ rather than
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
346
483
L-H-N
484
L-W-T
485
L-W-Q
487
L-Y-S
489
M-A2
490
M-A3
491
M-A-SH
494
M-R-R2
496
M-R-N-Y
498 501
M-SH M-‘
502
M-L-K
518
N-S-{
527
N-F-H
532
N-M-L
533
N-H-M
546
H-M-L-Y
Eng launch, the Malay term giving rise to the 16th/ 17th century Port lanchara meaning ‘a kind of small vessel’ (HOB 502). Correct cross-reference sub lahAna: for SERJ (I) read SERJ (IV). Sub lwEta: in the gloss, delete ‘similar to black fly’. This disease is a kind of ‘tomato wilt’, rather than an insectborn disease. Add cross-reference sub lAk: The same form with theme vowel u (unlike CLA i) occurs in South Arabia (GLOS 2657) and Iraq (MEIS (II) 106). Add cross-references: EADS 148: idem for Kuwait; REIN 112 for Oman. Add cross-reference sub meaning 2: CH: idem, e.g. VlUP mA VlUP climbing up (palm-trees) and such-like things. Add lemma: mAS nothing at all. sAPAt baVal, mAS sometimes he’s out of a job, (does) nothing at all. HAN 331: idem. Add root and lemma: mAS /n/ peas and other pulses of the pea family. < Pers (ST 1141 idem). Add lemma: murr /adj/ salty, brackish (water). Sub istamarr: add meaning 2: to become brackish (water). Add lemma: marrAni /n/ type of wild poppy (reichardia tingitana). Add cross-reference sub miS: REIN 30: mA miS idem. Sub maPa: final example should read yitnAfasUn baPBhum maPa baPB Add lemma: mamlUk /n/ slave. mA fIh PAd mamlUk there are to be no slaves any more. Add cross-reference sub nisaP: TAG Vol II: 447 gives the meaning ‘push the bow-sprit forward’. Add cross-reference sub nafAh: cf MEIS (II) 144: nefaH to blow; GLOS 2805: nafaH to spread an odour; BRO 206: tnaffaH to get a breeze, all with H rather than h. Add lemma: niml /vn/ tingling sensation. awPa niml innAr fI Idi I feel a tingling sensation of fire on my hand. Add lemma: nihim /n/ whale, or any kind of large fish. smICa tAkl-vh, nihim yAkl-vh a (small) fish would eat him, or a large one. HANZ 622: nihma whale; called nihim because of its voracious appetite. Add root and lemma: hummalE (some A only) /pres part/ introducing a sudden, unexpected or vivid event. hummalE
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
549
H-Y-B2
558
W-Z-N
561
W-Þ-R
563
W-F-Y
564
W-Q-F
566
W-L-D
567
W-L-H
568
W-L-Y
568
W-N-Y
570
Y-A3
347
iPdalaw, amAnt allah, lA wallah, iPdalaw They (= the British) acted justly, to be perfectly honest… no, by God, they acted justly. DOS (I) 279: idem for the D¡sirº dialect of Kuwait; ING 143: idem for the Najdi dialects. See meaning 2 of ila sub ’-L-A. Add cross-reference sub hIb: possibly < Eng ‘heave!’, the command given to workmen when using this tool (SME 64). Add lemma: mIzAniyya /n/ 1 balance, equilibrium. …Hagg yisawwi l-arB mIzAniyya …so that the soil gets an even balance (of fertiliser) 2 that which is suitable or needed, in amount. yiVVallaP PurUg-ha il-Hadriyya awwal ...yAxiD mIzAniyyat-ha first he inspects its lower roots… and takes (as much earth) as it needs. Sub cross-references: HOL 457 idem: translation should read ‘difficult time’. Sub istawfa: the meaning ‘request payment of a debt’ is correct, but the implication is ‘by sequestration of assets’. Cf TAG Vol II 99: idem. Add lemma: waggAfi /adj/ in a standing position. xanaTtha waggAfi I had sex with her standing up. BLA 85: idem. Add example to meaning 1 of wilid, yUlad/vt/: il-harIs wi l-maFrUba hAy Hagg aHad wAlid wheat-porridge with meat and savoury rice, they were given to any woman who had just given birth. Add lemma: twallah /vi/ be infatuated with, passionate about. baPF-hum twallah fi l-JOR some of them were passionate about pearl diving. Sub twalla: meaning 2 should be deleted. The example quoted was a mishearing of the one now quoted above sub twallah. Add new root and lemma: twanna /vi/ hold back, hesitate. lAkin akil awwal JEr, akil tAkil yaPni—tamar u harIs, mA twannEt! but food in the old days was different, it was food you could eat—dates, meat porridge, you didn’t hold back! BRO 223 idem to be late (a Bedu word); KURP (III) 484: idem to become tired, slacken. CLA taQannA to act slowly, be patient. Add new root and lemma: yA- /invar interrog adj w foll enc pron/ (A only, B used ay- (qv)) which one? yAhu tabbi? which one d’you want?
348
addenda and corrigenda to vol i
HANDBOOK OF ORIENTAL STUDIES (HANDBUCH DER ORIENTALISTIK) Section I: NEAR AND MIDDLE EAST Abt. I: DER NAHE UND MITTLERE OSTEN ISSN 0169-9423 Band 1. Ägyptologie 1. Ägyptische Schrift und Sprache. Mit Beiträgen von H. Brunner, H. Kees, S. Morenz, E. Otto, S. Schott. Mit Zusätzen von H. Brunner. Nachdruck der Erstausgabe (1959). 1973. ISBN 90 04 03777 2 2. Literatur. Mit Beiträgen von H. Altenmüller, H. Brunner, G. Fecht, H. Grapow, H. Kees, S. Morenz, E. Otto, S. Schott, J. Spiegel, W. Westendorf. 2. verbesserte und erweiterte Au age. 1970. ISBN 90 04 00849 7 3. Helck, W. Geschichte des alten Ägypten. Nachdruck mit Berichtigungen und Ergänz-ungen. 1981. ISBN 90 04 06497 4 Band 2. Keilschriftforschung und alte Geschichte Vorderasiens 1-2/2. Altkleinasiatische Sprachen [und Elamitisch]. Mit Beiträgen von J. Friedrich, E. Reiner, A. Kammenhuber, G. Neumann, A. Heubeck. 1969. ISBN 90 04 00852 7 3. Schmökel, H. Geschichte des alten Vorderasien. Reprint. 1979. ISBN 90 04 00853 5 4/2. Orientalische Geschichte von Kyros bis Mohammed. Mit Beiträgen von A. Dietrich, G. Widengren, F. M. Heichelheim. 1966. ISBN 90 04 00854 3 Band 3. Semitistik Semitistik. Mit Beiträgen von A. Baumstark, C. Brockelmann, E. L. Dietrich, J. Fück, M. Höfner, E. Littmann, A. Rücker, B. Spuler. Nachdruck der Erstausgabe (1953-1954). 1964. ISBN 90 04 00855 1 Band 4. Iranistik 1. Linguistik. Mit Beiträgen von K. HoVmann, W. B. Henning, H. W. Bailey, G. Morgenstierne, W. Lentz. Nachdruck der Erstausgabe (1958). 1967. ISBN 90 04 03017 4 2/1. Literatur. Mit Beiträgen von I. Gershevitch, M. Boyce, O. Hansen, B. Spuler, M. J. Dresden. 1968. ISBN 90 04 00857 8 2/2. History of Persian Literature from the Beginning of the Islamic Period to the Present Day. With Contributions by G. Morrison, J. Baldick and Sh. Kadkan¯. 1981. ISBN 90 04 06481 8 3. Krause, W. Tocharisch. Nachdruck der Erstausgabe (1955) mit Zusätzen und Berichtigungen. 1971. ISBN 90 04 03194 4 Band 5. Altaistik 1. Turkologie. Mit Beiträgen von A. von Gabain, O. Pritsak, J. Benzing, K. H. Menges, A. Temir, Z. V. Togan, F. Taeschner, O. Spies, A. Caferoglu, A. Battal-Tamays. Reprint with additions of the 1st (1963) ed. 1982. ISBN 90 04 06555 5 2. Mongolistik. Mit Beiträgen von N. Poppe, U. Posch, G. Doerfer, P. Aalto, D. Schröder, O. Pritsak, W. Heissig. 1964. ISBN 90 04 00859 4 3. Tungusologie. Mit Beiträgen von W. Fuchs, I. A. Lopatin, K. H. Menges, D. Sinor. 1968. ISBN 90 04 00860 8 Band 6. Geschichte der islamischen Länder 5/1. Regierung und Verwaltung des Vorderen Orients in islamischer Zeit. Mit Beiträgen von H. R. Idris und K. Röhrborn. 1979. ISBN 90 04 05915 6 5/2. Regierung und Verwaltung des Vorderen Orients in islamischer Zeit. 2. Mit Beiträgen von D. Sourdel und J. Bosch Vilá. 1988. ISBN 90 04 08550 5 6/1. Wirtschaftsgeschichte des Vorderen Orients in islamischer Zeit. Mit Beiträgen von B. Lewis, M. Rodinson, G. Baer, H. Müller, A. S. Ehrenkreutz, E. Ashtor, B. Spuler, A. K. S. Lambton, R. C. Cooper, B. Rosenberger, R. Arié, L. Bolens, T. Fahd. 1977. ISBN 90 04 04802 2 Band 7 Armenisch und Kaukasische Sprachen. Mit Beiträgen von G. Deeters, G. R. Solta, V. Inglisian. 1963. ISBN 90 04 00862 4 Band 8. Religion 1/1. Religionsgeschichte des alten Orients. Mit Beiträgen von E. Otto, O. Eissfeldt, H. Otten, J. Hempel. 1964. ISBN 90 04 00863 2
1/2/2/1. Boyce, M. A History of Zoroastrianism. The Early Period. Rev. ed. 1989. ISBN 90 04 08847 4 1/2/2/2. Boyce, M. A History of Zoroastrianism. Under the Achaemenians. 1982. ISBN 90 04 06506 7 1/2/2/3. Boyce, M. and Grenet, F. A History of Zoroastrianism. Zoroastrianism under Macedonian and Roman Rule. With a Contribution by R. Beck. 1991. ISBN 90 04 09271 4 2. Religionsgeschichte des Orients in der Zeit der Weltreligionen. Mit Beiträgen von A. Adam, A. J. Arberry, E. L. Dietrich, J. W. Fück, A. von Gabain, J. Leipoldt, B. Spuler, R. Strothman, G. Widengren. 1961. ISBN 90 04 00864 0 Ergänzungsband 1 1. Hinz, W. Islamische Maße und Gewichte umgerechnet ins metrische System. Nachdruck der Erstausgabe (1955) mit Zusätzen und Berichtigungen. 1970. ISBN 90 04 00865 9 Ergänzungsband 2 1. Grohmann, A. Arabische Chronologie und Arabische Papyruskunde. Mit Beiträgen von J. Mayr und W. C. Till. 1966. ISBN 90 04 00866 7 2. Khoury, R. G. Chrestomathie de papyrologie arabe. Documents relatifs à la vie privée, sociale et administrative dans les premiers siècles islamiques. 1992. ISBN 90 04 09551 9 Ergänzungsband 3 Orientalisches Recht. Mit Beiträgen von E. Seidl, V. Korosc, E. Pritsch, O. Spies, E. Tyan, J. Baz, Ch. Chehata, Ch. Samaran, J. Roussier, J. Lapanne-Joinville, S. S¸ . Ansay. 1964. ISBN 90 04 00867 5 Ergänzungsband 5 1/1. Borger, R. Einleitung in die assyrischen Königsinschriften. 1. Das zweite Jahrtausend vor Chr. Mit Verbesserungen und Zusätzen. Nachdruck der Erstausgabe (1961). 1964. ISBN 90 04 00869 1 1/2. Schramm, W. Einleitung in die assyrischen Königsinschriften. 2. 934-722 v. Chr. 1973. ISBN 90 04 03783 7 Ergänzungsband 6 1. Ullmann, M. Die Medizin im Islam. 1970. ISBN 90 04 00870 5 2. Ullmann, M. Die Natur- und Geheimwissenschaften im Islam. 1972. ISBN 90 04 03423 4 Ergänzungsband 7 Gomaa, I. A Historical Chart of the Muslim World. 1972. ISBN 90 04 03333 5 Ergänzungsband 8 Kornrumpf, H.-J. Osmanische Bibliographie mit besonderer Berücksichtigung der Türkei in Europa. Unter Mitarbeit von J. Kornrumpf. 1973. ISBN 90 04 03549 4 Ergänzungsband 9 Firro, K. M. A History of the Druzes. 1992. ISBN 90 04 09437 7 Band 10 Strijp, R. Cultural Anthropology of the Middle East. A Bibliography. Vol. 1: 1965-1987. 1992. ISBN 90 04 09604 3 Band 11 Endress, G. & Gutas, D. (eds.). A Greek and Arabic Lexicon. (GALex ). Materials for a Dictionary of the Mediæval Translations from Greek into Arabic. Fascicle 1. Introduction—Sources— { – {-kh-r. Compiled by G. Endress & D. Gutas, with the assistance of K. Alshut, R. Arnzen, Chr. Hein, St. Pohl, M. Schmeink. 1992. ISBN 90 04 09494 6 Fascicle 2. {-kh-r – {-s.-l. Compiled by G. Endress & D. Gutas, with the assistance of K. Alshut, R. Arnzen, Chr. Hein, St. Pohl, M. Schmeink. 1993. ISBN 90 04 09893 3 Fascicle 3. {-s.-l – {-l-y. Compiled by G. Endress, D. Gutas & R. Arnzen, with the assistance of Chr. Hein, St. Pohl. 1995. ISBN 90 04 10216 7 Fascicle 4. Ila- – inna. Compiled by R. Arnzen, G. Endress & D. Gutas, with the assistance of Chr. Hein & J. Thielmann. 1997. ISBN 90 04 10489 5. Band 12 Jayyusi, S. K. (ed.). The Legacy of Muslim Spain. Chief consultant to the editor, M. Marín. 2nd ed. 1994. ISBN 90 04 09599 3 Band 13 Hunwick, J. O. and O’Fahey, R. S. (eds.). Arabic Literature of Africa. Editorial Consultant: Albrecht Hofheinz. Volume I. The Writings of Eastern Sudanic Africa to c. 1900. Compiled by R. S. O’Fahey, with the assistance of M. I. Abu Salim, A. Hofheinz, Y. M. Ibrahim, B. Radtke and K. S. Vikør. 1994. ISBN 90 04 09450 4 Volume II. The Writings of Central Sudanic Africa. Compiled by John O. Hunwick, with the
assistance of Razaq Abubakre, Hamidu Bobboyi, Roman Loimeier, Stefan Reichmuth and Muhammad Sani Umar. 1995. ISBN 90 04 10494 1 Volume III. The Writings of the Muslim Peoples of Northeastern Africa. Compiled by R.S. O’Fahey with the assistance of Hussein Ahmed, Lidwien Kapteijns, Mohamed M. Kassim, Jonathan Miran, Scott S. Reese and Ewald Wagner. 2003. ISBN 90 04 10938 2 Volume IV. The Writings of Western Sudanic Africa. Compiled by John O. Hunwick with the assistance of Ousmane Kane, Bernard Salvaing, Rudiger Seesemann, Mark Sey and Ivor Wilks. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12444 6 Band 14 Decker, W. und Herb, M. Bildatlas zum Sport im alten Ägypten. Corpus der bildlichen Quellen zu Leibesübungen, Spiel, Jagd, Tanz und verwandten Themen. Bd.1: Text. Bd. 2: Ab-bildungen. 1994. ISBN 90 04 09974 3 (Set) Band 15 Haas, V. Geschichte der hethitischen Religion. 1994. ISBN 90 04 09799 6 Band 16 Neusner, J. (ed.). Judaism in Late Antiquity. Part One: The Literary and Archaeological Sources. 1994. ISBN 90 04 10129 2 Band 17 Neusner, J. (ed.). Judaism in Late Antiquity. Part Two: Historical Syntheses. 1994. ISBN 90 04 09799 6 Band 18 Orel, V. E. and Stolbova, O. V. (eds.). Hamito-Semitic Etymological Dictionary. Materials for a Reconstruction. 1994. ISBN 90 04 10051 2 Band 19 al-Zwaini, L. and Peters, R. A Bibliography of Islamic Law, 1980-1993. 1994. ISBN 90 04 10009 1 Band 20 Krings, V. (éd.). La civilisation phénicienne et punique. Manuel de recherche. 1995. ISBN 90 04 10068 7 Band 21 Hoftijzer, J. and Jongeling, K. Dictionary of the North-West Semitic Inscriptions. With appendices by R.C. Steiner, A. Mosak Moshavi and B. Porten. 1995. 2 Parts. ISBN Set (2 Parts) 90 04 09821 6 Part One: { - L. ISBN 90 04 09817 8 Part Two: M - T. ISBN 90 04 9820 8. Band 22 Lagarde, M. Index du Grand Commentaire de Fah-r al-DÊn al-Ra-zÊ. 1996. ISBN 90 04 10362 7 Band 23 Kinberg, N. A Lexicon of al-Farra- "’s Terminology in his Qur"a-n Commentary. With Full Definitions, English Summaries and Extensive Citations. 1996. ISBN 90 04 10421 6 Band 24 Fähnrich, H. und Sardshweladse, S. Etymologisches Wörterbuch der Kartwel-Sprachen. 1995. ISBN 90 04 10444 5 Band 25 Rainey, A.F. Canaanite in the Amarna Tablets. A Linguistic Analysis of the Mixed Dialect used by Scribes from Canaan. 1996. ISBN Set (4 Volumes) 90 04 10503 4 Volume I. Orthography, Phonology. Morphosyntactic Analysis of the Pronouns, Nouns, Numerals. ISBN 90 04 10521 2 Volume II. Morphosyntactic Analysis of the Verbal System. ISBN 90 04 10522 0 Volume III. Morphosyntactic Analysis of the Particles and Adverbs. ISBN 90 04 10523 9 Volume IV. References and Index of Texts Cited. ISBN 90 04 10524 7 Band 26 Halm, H. The Empire of the Mahdi. The Rise of the Fatimids. Translated from the German by M. Bonner. 1996. ISBN 90 04 10056 3 Band 27 Strijp, R. Cultural Anthropology of the Middle East. A Bibliography. Vol. 2: 1988-1992. 1997. ISBN 90 04 010745 2 Band 28 Sivan, D. A Grammar of the Ugaritic Language. 1997. ISBN 90 04 10614 6 Band 29 Corriente, F. A Dictionary of Andalusi Arabic. 1997. ISBN 90 04 09846 1
Band 30 Sharon, M. Corpus Inscriptionum Arabicarum Palaestinae (CIAP). Vol. 1: A. 1997. ISBN 90 04 010745 2 Vol.1: B. 1999. ISBN 90 04 110836 Band 31 Török, L. The Kingdom of Kush. Handbook of the Napatan-Meroitic Civilization. 1997. ISBN 90 04 010448 8 Band 32 Muraoka, T. and Porten, B. A Grammar of Egyptian Aramaic. 1998. ISBN 90 04 10499 2 Second revised edition. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13608 8 Band 33 Gessel, B.H.L. van. Onomasticon of the Hittite Pantheon. 1998. ISBN Set (2 parts) 90 04 10809 2 Band 34 Klengel, H. Geschichte des hethitischen Reiches 1998. ISBN 90 04 10201 9 Band 35 Hachlili, R. Ancient Jewish Art and Archaeology in the Diaspora 1998. ISBN 90 04 10878 5 Band 36 Westendorf, W. Handbuch der altägyptischen Medizin. 1999. ISBN Set (2 Bände) 90 04 10319 8 Band 37 Civil, M. Mesopotamian Lexicography. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11007 0 Band 38 Siegelová, J. and Sou´ek, V. Systematische Bibliographie der Hethitologie. 1999. ISBN Set (3 Bände) 90 04 11205 7 Band 39 Watson, W.G.E. and Wyatt, N. Handbook of Ugaritic Studies. 1999. ISBN 90 04 10988 9 Band 40 Neusner, J. Judaism in Late Antiquity, III,1. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11186 7 Band 41 Neusner, J. Judaism in Late Antiquity, III,2. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11282 0 Band 42 Drijvers, H.J.W. and Healey, J.F. The Old Syriac Inscriptions of Edessa and Osrhoene. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11284 7 Band 43 Daiber, H. Bibliography of Philosophical Thought in Islam. 2 Volumes. ISBN Set (2 Volumes) 90 04 11347 9 Volume I. Alphabetical List of Publications 1999. ISBN 90 04 09648 5 Volume II. Index of Names, Terms and Topics. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11348 7 Band 44 Hunger, H. and Pingree, D. Astral Sciences in Mesopotamia. 1999. ISBN 90 04 10127 6 Band 45 Neusner, J. The Mishnah. Religious Perspectives 1999. ISBN 90 04 11492 0 Band 46 Neusner, J. The Mishnah. Social Perspectives 1999. ISBN 90 04 11491 2 Band 47 Khan, G. A Grammar of Neo-Aramaic. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11510 2 Band 48 Takács, G. Etymological Dictionary of Egyptian. Vol. 1. 1999. ISBN 90 04 11538 2 Takács, G. Etymological Dictionary of Egyptian. Vol. 2. 2001. ISBN 90 04 12121 8 Band 49 Avery-Peck, A.J. and Neusner, J. Judaism in Late Antiquity IV. 2000. ISBN 90 04 11262 6 Band 50 Tal, A. A Dictionary of Samaritan Aramaic. (2 Volumes) 2000. ISBN 90 04 11858 6 (dl. 1) ISBN 90 04 11859 4 (dl. 2) ISBN 90 04 11645 1 (set) Band 51 Holes, C. Dialect, Culture, and Society in Eastern Arabia. Vol. 1 : Glossary 2001. ISBN 90 04 10763 0 Holes, C. Dialect, Culture, and Society in Eastern Arabia. Vol. 2 : Ethnographic Texts 2005. ISBN 90 04 14494 3
Band 52 Jong, R.E. de. A Grammar of the Bedouin Dialects of the Northern Sinai Littoral. Bridging the Linguistic Gap between the Eastern and Western Arab World. 2000. ISBN 90 04 11868 3 Band 53 Avery-Peck, A.J. and Neusner, J. Judaism in Late Antiquity III,3. Where we stand: Issues and Debates in Ancient Judaism. 2000. ISBN 90 04 11892 6 Band 54 Krahmalkov, Ch. R. A Phoenician-Punic Grammar. 2001. ISBN 90 04 11771 7 Band 55 Avery-Peck, A.J. and Neusner, J. Judaism in Late Antiquity III,4. Where we stand: Issues and Debates in Ancient Judaism.. The Special Problem of the Synagogue. 2001. ISBN 90 04 12000 9. Band 56 Avery-Peck, A.J., Neusner, J., and Chilton, B. Judaism in Late Antiquity V,1. The Judaism of Qumran: A Systemic Reading of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Theory of Israel. 2001. ISBN 90 04 12001 7 Band 57 Avery-Peck, A.J., Neusner, J., and Chilton, B. Judaism in Late Antiquity V,2. The Judaism of Qumran: A Systemic Reading of the Dead Sea Scrolls. World View, Comparing Judaisms. 2001. ISBN 90 04 12003 3 Band 58 Gacek, A. The Arabic manuscript tradition. A Glossary of Technical Terms and Bibliography. 2001. ISBN 90 04 12061 0 Band 60 Marzolph, U. Narrative illustration in Persian lithographed books. 2001. ISBN 90 04 12100 5 Band 61 Zammit, M.R. A Comparative Lexical Study of Qur’§nic Arabic. 2002. ISBN 90 04 11801 2 Band 62 Grossmann, P. Christliche Architektur in Ägypten. 2002. ISBN 90 04 12128 5 Band 63 Weipert, R. Classical Arabic Philology and Poetry. A Bibliographical Handbook of Important Editions from 1960 to 2000. 2002 ISBN 90 04 12342 3 Band 64 Collins, B.J. A History of the Animal World in the Ancient Near East. 2002. ISBN 90 09 12126 9 Band 65 Avery-Peck, A.J. and Neusner, J. The Mishnah in Contemporary Perspective. Part I. 2002. ISBN 90 09 12515 9 Band 66 Muffs, Y. Studies in the Aramaic Legal Papyri from Elephantine. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12868 9 Band 67 del Olmo Lete, G., and Sanmartín, J., edited and translated by Wilfred G.E. Watson. A Dictionary of the Ugaritic Language in the Alphabetic Tradition (2 vols) ISBN 9004128913 (set) Band 68 Melchert, H.C. The Luwians. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13009 8 Band 69 Ritter, H, translated by John O’Kane with Editorial Assistance of Bernd Radtke. The Ocean of the Soul. Man, the World and God in the Stories of FarÊd al-DÊn #Aãã§r ISBN 90 04 12068 8 Band 70 Borg, A. A Comparative Glossary of Cypriot Maronite Arabic (Arabic-English). With an Introductory Essay. 2004. ISBN 90 04 13198 1 Band 71 Edzard, D.O. Sumerian Grammar. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12608 2
Band 72 Westbrook, R. A History of Ancient Near Eastern Law. ISBN 90 04 12995 2 Band 73 Polliack, M. A Guide to Karaite Studies. The History and Literary Sources of Medieval and Modern Karaite Judaism. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12251 6 Band 74 Soysal, O. Hattischer Wortschatz in hethitischer Textüberlieferung. 2004. ISBN 90 04 13706 8 Band 75 Bleaney, C.H., Roper, G.J., and Sluglett, P., with an introduction by Peter Sluglett. Iraq. A Bibliographical Guide. 2004. ISBN 90 04 13942 7 Band 76 Behn,W. Concise Biographical Companion to Index Islamicus. An International Who’s Who in Islamic Studies from its Beginnings down to the Twentieth Century. 2004. Bio-biographical Supplements to Index Islamicus, 1665-1980, Volume One. ISBN 90 04 14117 0 Behn,W. Concise Biographical Companion to Index Islamicus. 2004. Bio-biographical Supplements to Index Islamicus, 1665-1980, Volume Three. ISBN 90 04 14189 8 Band 77 Van der Molen, R. An Analytical Concordance of the Verb, the Negation and the Syntax in Egyptian Coffin Texts. (2 vols.). 2005. ISBN 90 04 14213 4 (set)