Egyptian Arabic

An evening in the Maadi flat: Salma turns the television off and tells Leo a baby is coming, and Leo learns to ask which month, to count in so many months from now, and to be told one thing at a time.

Friday lunch in Heliopolis: Sayed guesses the news at the door, and at the table Madame Nadia and Uncle Mahmoud hear it: congratulations, in advance and a thousand times, their fixed reply, and the wish that God bring her safely through it.

Doctor Maha's clinic in Maadi, the first visit together: how many weeks, the tests Salma must do, the vitamins she is supposed to take, what won't do and what is not allowed, and a wife who will listen to the baby.

At the kitchen table in Maadi, Leo persuades Salma with numbers: let's count, the workshop pays twenty, a shop eats it in rent, but even so, give me six months, then we count again, and if it works she chooses the colour of the sign.

Leo tells Mister Fathi he is opening a studio of his own and cushions the news the Egyptian way: with your permission, not because of the workshop but because of the baby, no offence, honestly, and a blessing to go with.

Behind the Tentmakers' street with Karim, a passer-by shows the way to a shut carpenter's shop with a green door: go in, keep going, turn left, cross the square, on your right hand, go up, and a lady in a window.

Mister Ragab shows Leo and Karim his late father's carpentry shop: forty metres, closed since the Feast, a cracked floor, a wall repaired and painted, and a quiet lady upstairs who sees everything.

Leo and Mister Ragab bargain the rent of the shop from fifteen thousand down to twelve and a half: a comparative with an amount, three thousand cheaper, a bit cheaper, six months first, final word, and we've agreed.

At home, Salma reads Leo the lease clause by clause: the Standard Arabic of a contract, is obliged to, the second party, in case of delay, not more than, and the Egyptian answers, cross it out and write.

Signing day in the lane: Mister Ragab hands over the keys and Madame Afaf, at her window above the door, says nothing and means everything: I'm not saying anything, but; by the way; not for any reason; as it were.

Sherif the accountant, Karim's school friend, lists the steps of opening a studio over tea on the square: the issuing of the tax card, the registration stamp, the submission of a form, the payment of a fee, and the renewal.

The first visit to the district tax office: the purpose of the visit, a tax card for a new office, residence through marriage, the papers, and two reported questions: whether the form is filled in right, and whether the lease is registered.

Back at window three: the notice on the wall in Standard Arabic, a number, a surname written wrong, and the verbs of a thing that gets done: it gets corrected before it gets stamped, the form gets written again, the card gets issued, the receipt needs a stamp.

Hassan the carpenter from the lane levels the studio floor with Leo holding the level: hold, keep holding, don't let go, a moment, pass me the hammer, straight now, and a kitchen drawn for his daughter instead of a bill.

Moving in: the drawing table comes in Mr. Fathi's van and will not fit through the door, so the door comes off its hinges: take off, lift, bring it in, set it down, put it back on, and a gate drawn for nothing.

The first client: a woman from the lane with her grandmother's carved door, eaten at the bottom.

The difficult client: Mr. Hisham's grandfather's lattice window is falling and he wants it like new, quickly.

Madame Afaf brings down a tray of stuffed vegetables and does not complain about the dust: you work till seven, as we agreed, the dust reached the balcony, I'd have liked the sanding inside, if only, and if before seven it would be better; the tray comes back washed.

The scan at twenty weeks at Dr. Maha's clinic: relax, everything is fine, boy or girl, do you want to know, a girl, she'll be an architect or a guide, she'll turn out stubborn like her father, she'll be whatever she wants, and she takes after both of you.

Friday lunch in Heliopolis, and the name: name her after me, Fawzeya is hard in Chicago, then after my mother, Layla, it works in both languages, her full name here is Layla Leo Mitchell, and Leo becomes Layla's father.

Mr. Ragab phones in winter to raise the rent before the six months are out, and Leo answers from the paper: according to the contract, once a year, you have the right only at the renewal, clause nine, it says ten percent, in writing please.

Water drips through the studio ceiling onto a client's drawings and Madame Afaf has noticed nothing: this is the second time, until when, or I'll have to call Mr. Ragab, since when, I'm not saying anything.

Mr. Hisham is back: the lattice window is worse since the cleaning, and Leo answers with what was said: you should have said it would fall, but I did say, it's written in the survey, for free once, and you shouldn't have left the window open.

The repair deal for the lattice window: eight weeks, before the end of April, ninety thousand, half in advance, I don't know you, you know my work, forty-five within a week and the rest on delivery.

Mr. Fathi phones at night: a survey of a Zamalek house before nine tomorrow, and Leo names his price for the rush and the night: one and a half times, not double, back before one, and no, he hasn't gone soft, he has become a father.

The baby shop in Maadi with Salma and Mona: a cot that turns into a bed till school is over the top, every mattress in Egypt is medical, more than needed, the plain cot is enough, and delivery and carrying for a tired father.

Grandma in spring, around Mother's Day, hears that the cot is already bought: it isn't done, cover it with a sheet, in Chicago they paint the room pink but here we cover, the name waits for the seventh-day party, no need to tell the neighbours, and don't worry, Madame Afaf will say nothing.

Madame Afaf finally says what she wanted all along, a carved cupboard of her late husband's untouched for twenty years, and Leo makes her say it: you mean you'd like, what do you mean, trouble, in plain words, yes or no.

Leo renews the lease for a year with Mr. Ragab: twelve and a half since he redid the floor, all the more since he pays on the first, the sign over the door read in Standard Arabic, and thirteen in exchange for a line under it.

A night in May: Salma wakes Leo, every seven minutes, is it time, it's time, call the taxi and don't forget the bag, a driver on the empty Corniche of Maadi, the hospital please, every five minutes now, we're here, breathe.