Bilingual In a New Country?

I spent a total of 2240 days out of my life living in Canada. That’s a total of 6 years, 1 month, and 20 days. I lived in an area where when people heard me speak in a different language on the phone with my mother, the whole school would gather in a circle just to listen to the conversation in Arabic. They found the sound of a different language so fascinating.  I would most often hear phrases like, “So if you’re from Arab, then how do you speak such perfect English.” (Just to clarify I did not make a mistake there. Yes they would actually ask me if I was from Arab). 

At the age of 9, I entered grade 4 not knowing anyone or anything about the school and the environment. Knowing all the odds were against me, I still harnessed all the power I had in me, because I knew the only thing that made me confident was my ability to speak “perfect english.” 

Before going to Canada, I was actually born and raised in the U.A.E. which meant that from a very young age, my english was very strong as I have been learning it since I was little. Knowing that I was able to communicate just as well as all my classmates, really gave me the confidence to get through the first day. Making friends was easy, as a I had 25 curious kids run up to me asking about the exotic place that I had traveled from. I had to explain to them that I was from Dubai since in this day and age that is the place that is most known. Even though I had actually lived in Abu Dhabi, I knew that that would cause confusion so I just stuck with what they know. 

The curiosity did not just stop at the students. I remember very vividly that the teachers were the ones that asked me the most questions.They even asked to prepare a slideshow presentation explaining to my class where I was from, and where it was on the map. The presentations and projects didn't stop there. I even went on to lead an art project where they had me write on a piece of paper every students’ name in Arabic, and they went on to outline it in paint. I was also volunteered to speak to the whole school at the annual talent show, where my “talent” was speaking another language.

Even though people found it very unique that I spoke a different language, at the end of the day my life consisted of primarily speaking english. That’s 6 years of waking up and going to sleep, speaking in english. No Arabic practice, not writing, not reading, and not speaking. This definitely put a toll on how well I could communicate with my family back in the U.A.E. My skills in reading and writing continued to be the same as where I left them, which was grade 3. So when I ended up coming back here to the UAE, it was definitely an insecurity that I faced. I felt that part of my identity had been broken or fractured. Luckily when I came back I could recover very quickly and I instantly felt more connected with my culture as I progressed my skills in reading and writing. 

As a 9 year old at the time I loved all this power and authority I was given just because I was bilingual. At the time I started thinking being bilingual wasn’t all that bad. That’s when I was proven wrong. The more and more that me and my family got comfortable with knowing that we were the people that were able to speak a different language, especially Arabic, the more and more our adventures got interesting. We owned a farm back in Canada, and every once in a while, we would take our produce up to the farmer’s market and sell our organic fruits and vegetables. 

One day a man came up to our stall and started asking us for incomplete orders and changing his mind quite frequently on what he wanted. We were very busy at this moment, so my aunt started to get frustrated. The man looked quite Caucasian with dirty blond hair and ocean swept eyes, plus we very rarely meet other Arabs. So, in Arabic, she says “Listen man, our stall isn't just set up for you, there are other people waiting, get your head together!” 

The man replies in Arabic, “I won’t be much longer”, he then takes his produce and marches away.