"If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his own language, that goes to his heart." - Nelson Mandela
I never realized the significance of this quote, until very recently. Being a native Arabic speaker who attended an English speaking school, bilingualism came quite naturally to me, as it did to many others in the same situation. I was able to perfectly understand anything said or written in either language, and it didn't make much of a difference which one was used. As I grew up, I started to no longer study Arabic at school; most of my interactions with friends, or even family (sometimes), were in English. I began to feel more and more unfamiliar with my native language. I stopped reading and/or writing in Arabic and sort of adopted English as my unofficial first language.
A little less than a year ago, a friend of mine introduced to me Fairouz's music. I mean, of course, I've heard of Fairouz before and I definitely knew who she was, but I've always thought that classic Arabic music was for "old people" and never thought that I would enjoy it. So, anyways, I decided to give her music a try once when I was on the airplane, on my way back to Qatar. To my surprise, I incredibly enjoyed Fairouz's songs and loved their lyrics. I connected with the words in strange and beautiful ways, even though they, more often than not, described experiences that I don't necessarily relate to. This made me curious, since no English songs have ever made me feel this way. So I went ahead, and started reading quotes and poems by Arab authors, which I ended up being obsessed with. I gradually began to recognize the truth in Mandela's words. Perhaps, this is purely subjective, but no matter how many languages one could understand, none would reach out to them quite as deeply as their own.
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