El Andalous - Language Problems

National Bank of Egypt, Mamsha, Hurghada

I’d brought over some (not many) Swiss francs with me to change. I mentioned in a previous blog that I never managed to do this on my arrival because the taxi driver insisted I change it with his friend. It took me a while to muster up the courage to try again.

In the mean time, Kathryn and Stephen told me that they’d gone to the bank in Mamsha (aka Touristic Promenade) and that it had been really good. I was happier just going to the bank to change my money, so I took a taxi and went. I had a different driver this time – I’d complained about the previous one and I think Esmat’s making sure I don’t have him again.

Anyway, it was a completely different experience in this bank than in the main one in the bank area. I didn’t have to queue at all, the seats were more comfortable, the atmosphere was a whole lot friendlier. The man serving me was very helpful.

But all of a sudden, there was a huge commotion in the bank. The guy serving me stood up, sat down, stood up, sat down, and then asked me if I minded if he went because his “big mother” had just arrived. I understood that he was probably meaning “big manager” since the word for manager in Arabic (Mudeer) is quite similar to “mother”. I looked over and saw a huge circle of employees standing round this very smart looking gentleman. I nodded and said it wasn’t a problem. I quite liked the idea of everyone scurrying around because his big mamma had come into the office, though!

As it turned out, it was obviously not the correct procedure for him to abandon me, since he returned almost immediately and continued to serve me. I felt a bit sorry for him, because in the mean time all the other bank employees were going outside the bank to have a group photo taken with the manager while he was stuck with me. That’s service for you!

I will definitely use that branch from now on since I hate the one in the bank area – I always have to queue for several hours, the staff are overworked and don’t have time to do more than one task for you, and it’s not a very relaxing atmosphere.

Anyway, that language error reminds me of my own difficulty when I went to Senzo Mall on our weekly bus. I’d forgotten to put on my watch and I needed to know how much time I had left to do my shopping. I’m only just back, so I wasn’t really thinking clearly when I asked one of the staff in Spinney’s if he could let me know the time.

He told me it was 7.05pm, but I knew that was wrong, because we didn’t leave El Andalous until 7pm. He then showed me the time on his mobile, saying “5”. I looked at his mobile and got confused as the digital clock was showing V:00.

My first thought was that this looked like 5pm, which was even more wrong than 7pm and I thought it rather bizarre that he had his mobile set to Roman numerals. Then, when it dawned on me that it was in Arabic numbers, and I recovered from my sense of panic at having to read the foreign lettering, I was puzzled because it did look like 7pm, just as he’d said (V in Arabic is 7). I put it down to his mobile being an hour out for some reason. It wasn’t until about ten minutes later that I realized that what I’d seen as “00” was actually, in Arabic, “55” (5 is a bit like a 0 in Arabic numbers). Therefore, the time V:00 had been 7.55pm. The guy had been trying to say that 0 was a 5 but his answer had come out as 7.05pm instead. Doh!

On the one hand it was comforting, because at least then I really did know the time; on the other hand, I was shocked at my ineptitude. I still have a long way to go in learning Arabic, it seems!