Making and shuffling lists in Python

I discovered some useful functions the other day while trying to solve one of the Dataquest guided projects. These all relate somehow to lists and use Numpy. I'm listing them here mainly as a note for my future-self.

import numpy as np

# this code returns a list of n number of items starting at 0
np.arange(3)
---- returns [0,1,2]

# this code is a variation on the previous one
np.arange(3,7)
---- returns [3,4,5,6]

# this adds the functionality of steps in between values
np.arange(2,9,2)
---- returns [2,4,6,8]

# these are slightly different; they sort lists
# if you want to make list of numbers randomly sorted:

np.random.permutation(10)
---- returns the numbers 1-9 in a list, randomly sorted

# you can also pass non-numeric lists into the `permutation`
list = [a,b,c]
np.random.permutation(list)
---- returns something like [b,a,c]

Tabula for extracting table data from PDFs

Have you ever come across a PDF filled with useful data, but wanted to play around with that data yourself? In the past if I had that problem, I'd type the table out manually. This has some disadvantages:

• it is extremely boring
• it's likely that mistakes will get made, especially if the table is long and extends over several pages
• it takes a long time

I recently discovered a tool that solves this problem: Tabula. It works on Windows and Mac and is very easy and intuitive to use. Simply take your page of data:

View fullsize

A page listing Kandahar's provincial council election polling stations from a few years back. Note the use of English and Dari scripts. Tabula handles all this without problems.

Then import the file into Tabula's web interface. It's surprisingly good at autodetecting where tables and table borders are, but you can do it manually if need be:

Then check that the data has been correctly scraped, select formats for export (from CSV to JSON etc):

And there you have it, all your data in a CSV file ready for use in R or Python or just a simple Excel spreadsheet:

Note that even though the interface runs through a browser, none of your data touches external servers. All the processing and stripping of data from PDFs is done on your computer, and isn't sent for processing to cloud servers. This is a really nice feature and I'm glad they wrote the software this way.

I haven't had any problems using Tabula so far. It's a great time saver. Highly recommended.

Language Learner's Journal: Homestay Edition

[This is a continuation of Taylor's blog series where she details some of the week-in-week-out lessons that she learns through her Arabic studies and coaching work together with me. For other posts in the series, click here.] 

My first time around with immersive language learning (studying for a semester in Brazil ten years ago), it was a no-brainer that I would do a homestay. I was a college student, I had no local networks to tap into to find housing, and forgoing a degree of privacy and independence felt not so different from the dorm life I was living the rest of the year. Furthermore, an employee of my school coordinated an apartment for me from the start, and back then I wasn’t as intentional, organized, and proactive about my learning as I am now.

By the time I got to Amman to bump up my Arabic studies last December, I only briefly considered doing a homestay. I wanted my own place or to at least live with other young people like me — I’d have guests visiting, I like to do yoga in my home, spend long times in the kitchen making vegetarian food and listening to podcasts, stay up late laughing with my mom on skype, etc. I also work part-time remotely each day, and I needed to make sure I’d have a quiet place appropriate for that.

About six months into studying, however, I started to think about a homestay seriously for the first time. I had a persistent feeling that my ability to read native texts and understand a newscast was beyond my ability to make small talk or say “Excuse me, I need to go brush my teeth.” 

I had a home in Amman and wasn’t going to force a homestay to happen, but I also began laying out feelers for families of all women interested in hosting a 30-year-old journalist. I had a happening Amman social life by half a year into my stay in the city, with morning yoga, friends who’d pick me up for running groups, dinner parties out, and meetings at coffee shops with my language partner. If I was going to stay with a family, it would ideally be one that understood my educational goals in Amman and how those various parts of my daily life fit into it.

I lucked out. A friend who coaches a track team broached the idea with a student who lives with her three sisters, parents and grandmother. The sisters range from kindergarten to college-aged and are a lively pack that zips around the city for their own activities each day, be it shopping, going to a sports team practice, or all the daughters going to the balad for a sisters meal out. Their home also had an open-door policy for all the neighbourhood youth, and throughout the day I’d have a smiley primary school girl telling me about the barbecue she ate the day before with her family or an Iraqi pharmaceutical student telling me about the farsi words he uses in dialect back home.  

Alex has emphasized to me the importance of speaking to a variety of people, since it can be deceptive to feel so confident speaking with language teachers and then, say, find groups of old people really challenging. The times when I was speaking with the grandmother of the family and the kindergarten daughter were indeed my hardest moments, but also fun, no-pressure ones Tayta usually wanted to know my whereabouts throughout the day and my travel plans. The little girl generally liked talking about her dog or the puppy show we saw in the circus together.

My favourite time of day was bedtime, when myself and the oldest and youngest daughter all went to bed together in the same room, chattering until we drifted off to sleep. I realized I had never needed to learn to say “Shall I turn off the light?” to anyone in all of my classes (بطفي الضوء؟)

I wish I had worked more with a notebook to write down new words and phrases I was hearing, but that house was full of life, and I floated between rooms and conversations and meals and situations throughout the day. Their conversations amongst themselves were often too fast for me, and sometimes I knew only the main outlines of what they were discussing and missed what specific point was funny or surprising. There was a huge difference between having a one-on-one conversation versus participating in the group chat – the former was a speaking exercise, whereas the latter was largely a listening one. I was once very lost in a conversation about food that involved peals of laughter until I recognized one word I knew (كبد) and realized they were talking about eating the internal organs of animals. 

Even if I hadn’t learned a single new word (thankfully, I did), it was a valuable booster shot to my confidence to be able to know that yes, I can live amongst a family and handle myself in day-to-day situations. I brought up basic things that I wanted to resolve in Amman with them, like explaining I wanted to find a quality and affordable dentist (they took me to a great one) and that I had Brazilian friends looking for an affordable way to send money abroad (hence many discussions about bank accounts and foreign currencies and a final group trip to MoneyGram). 

In the end, I stayed about two very happy weeks with them. I could always have done more toward a laser-focus goal of learning Arabic – I could have stayed with them from day one, I could have refused to speak with anyone in English all of my time in Amman, I could have lived in more remote parts of the country where I would be a rare foreigner. But one takeaway I have from my Brazil years is that, for me as a journalist, an immersive experience in a new place is a big-tent one: the gringos are part of it, the English-speaking locals with a foot abroad are a part of it, my bilingual running group and morning yoga are parts of it, the other language students working toward the same goals that I am are a part of it. The college-aged daughter who took me under the wing for my weeks in her home was about to study abroad in Germany, which I think is why she got my loosely defined “spend time with a family” goal so well. My next hope is that I’ll be able to open my doors to the sisters and offer them a home abroad someday.

Language Learner's Journal: Phone Calls and Timed Breaks

[This is a continuation of Taylor's blog series where she details some of the week-in-week-out lessons that she learns through her Arabic studies and coaching work together with me. For other posts in the series, click here.] 

I haven't written in this space in a bit because I've been taking breaks, both extended ones and daily small ones. At first I was anxious about "wasting" time by taking a sort of staycation holiday, but I'm seeing now it did me well.

Two friends came to visit me around Ramadan, and I threw a lot of my daily habits to the wind to enjoy having them here. One stayed an entire month – having a friend from Rio de Janeiro to pound pavement around this city with me during the unique time which is Ramadan was a fine way to enjoy what is otherwise a rather quiet and still time. I think together we made as many Jordanian friends as I had otherwise made in the six months before she came. We went to multiple yoga classes, including the Indian embassy's "International Day of Yoga," took a makeup shopping spree with two young women we met at Amman's Roman amphitheatre and waded through Wadi Mujib with a guide who seemed happy to have any clients during a slow month. There's something to be said for the "reset" button you can push when you have the novelty and joy of seeing a place through a visitor's eyes. 

Even as I wasn't studying formally and took a month off from classes, I still had useful, spontaneous ways to put my language to use. I got a speeding ticket on the way back from the Baptism site, which taught me some useful new vocabulary words (مخالفة غرامة، رخص). I even tried to argue with the officer that we couldn't see the sign because it was covered by a tree, but I was not successful (that said, the ticket was only 20JOD). During a week-long trip to Greece, a friend who took me to Athens' central fish market told me one of the men working at a booth was Syrian, so I went and introduced myself. It is a motivation super-charger to see how someone lights up to hear their own language when everything else around them sounds like Greek. 

When my trips were finished, I sat down with Alex's "Mastering Arabic" to review and refresh my study methods. I'm doing decently with motivation, a topic Alex covers at length. Learning Arabic has always been a project stemming from intrinsic motivation, something I chose to do for and by myself. I have no hoops to jump through to please an employer or scholarship committee – for now, I define my own success, which usually is satisfaction at being able to make a phone call or recalling a precise and useful word I've studied and putting it to use in the real world. 

"Mastering Arabic" did prompt me to think more about time organization methods, which I had let slide into just some vague sort of maximalism ("I have the evening free and will study as much as possible.") Two methods that have been useful are to divide tasks into discrete parts and then "reward" myself by taking a break afterward. That may mean: Read one story in حكايتهن from the UNRWA and then take a break by chatting on Whatsapp, or make Anki cards for 45 minutes then go do pushups while listening to Despacito. 

I've also made more active use of a language notebook. In the past, I took notebooks to class, but wasn't proactive enough to take it to stores or pull it out as soon as a friend and I part ways. One of my favorite exercises now is to try to recall new words or types of sentences I heard the soonest possible after I finish an activity – that recently included زبيب and شمندر after trips buying groceries, and اخبرني عنك and شو خطة الليل؟ when I listened in on phone conversations. I heard a friend say ...كنت رح اشتغل في محل بس كان عندي مشكلة and jotted it down. I've been feeling that what I lack is many basic speaking forms and daily vocabulary, and as simple as many of these things are, I didn't know them beforehand – I wouldn't have know how to say "I was going to do X" and that it was such a simple construction. I've long been a podcast fan, and now, when circumstances permit, I listen with a notebook beside me to jot down anything new. (My favorite new podcast discovery is عيب، which is in Jordanian colloquial Arabic and on subjects very accessible to me.) I've returned to private classes twice a week with a fabulous new teacher, so I bring her the questions that have accumulated in the days between our meetings. 

Alex is a big proponent of making phone calls, which for me is one of the final frontiers for language learning – it's hard to have no visual cues and introduce yourself coherently when you are a disembodied foreign voice over the phone and ask for things like interviews or deliveries. Thankfully, each successful call boosts my confidence a bit more, though I can't say I'm great – I stutter and stammer a lot, and I speak much more simply than I know how to speak if you gave me a quiet space and time to compose my thoughts. Still, to my delight, I was able to speak several times with a business whose employees I sought to interview, to my landlady to complain that she's been locking our veranda door unnecessarily, and to order food deliveries and try to explain where I live ("between the liquor store and the dukan of fulan"). My comprehension rate is variable – I understand nothing my building's haris tells me on the phone other than a general sense that he is granting or denying my request, but, thankfully, he seems to understand me.

A final reflection on taking breaks: When I was hosting visitors, I had moments of stress about how behind I was getting. I could do some calculation for you about how many words I "lost" by kicking back and speaking more English, Portuguese, and Spanish on a daily basis than Arabic. 

That said, the break served me well. One, it was nice to reflect on what language skills are – not a one-time performance but a world of abilities we keep in our pockets and pull out often at unexpected times. I haven't been in a Spanish class in about ten years, but I still am making friends and enjoying pop music in the language. Many of Alex's techniques are about how to maintain language abilities, i.e., not how to just do well on a test but recall vocabulary even several years from now. 

Two, athletic comparisons have always made sense to me when it comes to tackling this difficult project which is learning Arabic. My Rio de Janeiro guest added a new layer to that analogy when she began to show me what she was learning in her advanced yoga and acrobatics classes back home. My mode of exercise had long been about having time to daydream while I threw my body into motion, muscles and mind unattached while I ran ten, fifteen, twenty miles with little effort and thought. A pushup, on the other hand, or playing a competitive strategy-based sport was always difficult to me. The difference, my guest said, is attention to form and control and knowing that it won't "be natural" and effortless in the beginning. We practiced yoga chaturangas and headstands, two exercises that require total concentration and engagement rather than "zoning out." We also talked about rest. Nobody will run well if they run every day; yoga always ends with a savasana "corpse pose." The rest makes us more energetic and more engaged the next time we work out, pushing forward the frontiers of what one day will become natural for us. 

P.S. – This blog writing was also a timed activity. I went a little over my allotted hour-time block, but still wrote swiftly. Now, I'm off to do some pushups.

Spaced Repetition Without Computers

I wrote a little something over for the Spaced Repetition Foundation about getting the benefits of spaced repetition without relying on technology. Check it out here. Also give Matt's recent post on spaced repetition and creativity a read.

The book you need to read on bin Laden's life post-2001

There is no shortage of books on the September 11 attacks and their aftermath. Some stand back to analyse it in terms of trends and networks, seeking to explain the 'why' through abstractions. Others have written participant accounts or their histories from the sidelines. The Exile offers a fulsome corrective to this trend towards abstraction. Curious what life was like for bin Laden, his commanders and their families? Cathy Scott-Clark and Adrian Levy deliver in spades.

The beating heart of this book are the stories of bin Laden's wives, their children and their life in 'exile'. The authors seem to have managed to achieve as yet unparalleled access to the wives and some other family members of Osama bin Laden, and their tale is both gripping and believable. The second important contribution that the book makes is to reveal Iran's role in hosting the bin Laden families (and commanders) post-2001. The rich detail goes a long way to giving the reader a sense of the day-to-day frustrations of their lives in Tehran (and other places) as well as their interactions with Iranian military and government officials. The book would be worth its price just for these sections alone.

Chapter Eleven tells the story of the night bin Laden died, to a large extent from the perspective of his wives and family members. They also weave in accounts from US soldiers participating in the raid, but this is a perspective we have been denied till now and I think it is an important one. Indeed, the trauma faced by the children on that night (and throughout the years prior, for the most part unable to leave their home) is one of the understated but crucial themes that stand out from 'The Exile'.

Every account of bin Laden's time post-2001 has to grapple with the question of Pakistan's role. The authors take a smart position throughout the book, which is to abstain from abstraction and a strong analytic voice. There are some claims of Pakistani ISI involvement and meetings here and there, but they step back a little before charging the government or senior officials with a state-level conspiracy. Whatever happened, this account holds, was much more an affair of bit players.

The book had the feeling of being rushed to press. It must have cost a lot to research the book, so perhaps the authors simply ran out of funds, but it seemed like there were so many other lines of enquiry that could have been started. The hardcover copy I read still had a fairly large number of typos, and it's a shame that the authors use the word "Afghanis" to refer to Afghans.

The book is extremely readable -- it kept me up until two in the morning as I finished it -- and this is in large part because of the use of dialogue and building up narrative tension through conversations. Unfortunately, the handling of some of these conversations -- reported through interviews with participants -- strains credulity. Study of memory and oral history has shown how these kinds of memories degrade or get reshaped with each telling, and I wish there were more caveats throughout the book that what we're reading is an approximation of what happened in order to better imaginatively enter the situation.

All in all, though, The Exile is an important book, an engrossing read and hopefully the beginning of more enquiries as others follow up on leads and side-stories raised in the telling. I took copious notes and will be digesting its various contents for a while, I think. It seems that scholars of September 11 and its aftermath are doomed to eternally reading and retelling the same events in slightly different contortions as new facts and witnesses emerge. If all the books were as good as this one, I wouldn't mind so so much.

Italian Comprehension: Putting Myself On the Hook

I'm currently scheduled to do some archival work in August that would greatly benefit from being able to understand written Italian. That's a little under two months away from now, so I've been thinking about how best to approach this problem.

I'm only interested in comprehension, and not in production, of language, so this would seem a great opportunity to get a little bit of grammar and then immerse myself in some comprehensible input. I bought a quick-and-basic grammar overview and have set myself up with Clozemaster. (Clozemaster is a great way to learn vocabulary through context. I wrote about it previously here.)

I'm posting about this less-than-two-month mini goal here for a little bit of public accountability. I will in no way be fluent by the end of it, but I hope to be able to make my way through an archive of materials in Italian, or at the very least to know what is worth properly translating and what I can skip over.

There's rumoured to be a Beeminder/Clozemaster direct service connection in the works, but until then I'll use Clozemaster's own daily reminder tool. A più tardi.

Robert Caro's Big Long Book

One million words. More.

The Power Broker is the kind of book you see in a bookshop, pick it up, put it back down again because its weight is a physical assault on your wrist.

It isn't available as a digital edition for Kindle, so you're stuck with lugging the physical copy around with you. I started this book in February, setting up a Beeminder goal to keep me on track. The pages are large and the type small, so even a goal of reading twenty pages a day took 30-45 minutes.

I persevered, despite some weeks where I was travelling and therefore separated from the 1.3 kilogramme tome.

It was worth it. At over a million words, Caro obviously has the space to include a good deal of detail.

Robert Moses, if you're still reading by this point, is the subject of this biography. Moses worked in city planning, transportation and huge building projects in the New York state area (and some other big ones elsewhere in the United States). Caro's book details his life story, showing how Moses' drive 'got things done' in and around the city. Whether it was building roads or huge buildings, Moses was a force to be reckoned with in political as well as administrative terms.

Caro approaches his subject from a number of different perspectives. He appears to have read a huge amount of the raw primary source material in the public domain as well as interviewed 522 individuals close to or involved in Moses' work. That he managed to keep the book so readable is almost a miracle in and of itself. Every page draws you in, details and stories and glimpses that make Moses and the times in which he live come to life.

There are so many amazing details and sections to this book that picking any one would detract from the whole. If you have the time (and the stamina), give this book a read, even if you have no prior interest in urban planning. Highly recommended.

How We Forget

“How naive he’d been, thought the optician, how naive. Because there would always be greater sorrow, deeper and more unfathomable than any of us could ever imagine.” (p. 83)

Bad things happen all the time. Suffering is a feature of life for many people. When this suffering happens on our doorstep, an initial flurry of interest is followed by a long steady wane as what was the extraordinary becomes routine. So it is with the boatloads of people making their way towards Europe. For a brief moment, Europe seemed to care. The passage of time saw even these tragic stories become absorbed into the fabric of ‘normal life’.

Emma Jane Kirby’s book, The Optician of Lampedusa hits the pause button on our collective forgetting. This is an Italian optician’s story, a short tale of his coming into contact with the raw human tragedy occurring with regularity on Europe’s southern shores. The optician is sailing with friends when he comes across hundreds of drowning Eritreans (among others). The book chronicles the moments before, during and after their rescue.

Kirby’s strength is to stick to detailed observations, relaying what was going through the Italian optician’s mind, what he was seeing and hearing. It (re)connects the reader with the unvarnished reality of those being smuggled into Europe. It’s a unique account in its directness, and was a sober reminder of something that I had started to forget.

If I have one criticism of the book, it is the perspective. I would far rather have read a book by one of the survivors, or at least to hear the story in their words. I understand that European publishers feel like they need a white face to relay the stories of ‘the other’, I just wish it wasn’t the case. Nevertheless, this was a sensitively written account and one I will be recommending to friends and family.

Language Learner's Journal: Meaningful Leisure

[This is a continuation of Taylor's blog series where she details some of the week-in-week-out lessons that she learns through her Arabic studies and coaching work together with me. For other posts in the series, click here.] 

If the first phase of my Arabic study in Jordan was intensive textbook fusha and the second was track-switching ammiya classes, this third and current could be called meaningful leisure, or, hanging out around town a lot and making friends. 

When I went to Bombay for an extended stay in 2010, a journalism colleague gave me a piece of advice: "Take everyone up on their offer to hang out with you." It may sound "duh," but over the years living abroad, I've seen how foreigners spend their free time in ways that often diverge from how residents in a given city do so. When we, as gringos in Rio, may have wanted to go to foreign film festivals or paragilding over the beach, many of our Brazilian peers would be going to baby showers, a classmate's thesis defense, or Outback Steakhouse. All of those activities are great ones, and I think the spirit of my colleague's advice was: If you want to get to know a culture, let your host take the lead and show you how they spend their free time.

That means over the past few weeks, I've sat on the sidewalk in front of a gift shop with a delightful young sculptor and a store clerk, my partners in very unstructured language exchanges that break when one of them needs to pop into the shop to attend a client. I went for a 6:30 a.m. workout with two of the fastest runners in Amman, a pair of brothers I met at a sunset race in Wadi Rum as we waited in the dunes watching for headlamps of other runners finishing. I went to a capoeira performance at Jadal cafe that was held in commemoration of the nakba; I was pleased with how accessible the discussion after the performance was for me, particularly when an older man in the audience vigorously questioned the capoeristas as to why they needed to do someone else's sport when they could do dabke.

Alex often talks about "islands" of vocabulary, and I thought about that as I spent more time with the same people and can make good guesses about the words they're using. (As I crossed the finished line at the race, other runners asked me ايش كان مركزك؟ though I certainly hadn't run fast enough to place. It was satisfying, though, to deduce what they were saying.) The store clerk and I talk often about money and salaries, since she hustles to work two jobs to help her family out.

I could be more purist; I speak plenty of English in these interactions. I'm still searching for the point of equilibrium between taking advantage of each opportunity I get to speak in Arabic while (of course!) having genuine friendships with peers with whom I share interests (running, yoga, current events, feminism, vegetarianism, pets). Plenty of the vocabulary and references regarding those topics are in English, not to mention the people who are interested in them often read and speak in English about them. I don't believe every friendship needs to be instrumentalized for one's language-learning goals (though I believe even more strongly that such an attitude should not be a lofty cover for native English speakers kicking back and relaxing). When I told Alex about my happy sidewalk sessions, which qualify more as bilingual shooting-the-shit than a proper language exchange, he said: You're doing the real thing, rather than practicing for it.

Some working notes, now, on practice:

I've been happy with my second time around testing out language exchanges; I've used the website Conversation Exchange, which I had suspected could be out of use by its retro web design but is actually popping. I'm pretty strict about where I meet the person, i.e., it needs to be as quiet as possible (a first exchange at Indoor cafe across from the University of Jordan was really hard to decipher and, from my point of view, turned into disjointed monologues rather than a conversation because I couldn't hear her well).

I think the exchanges, for my current level, are less experimental zones and more consolidation ones. That is to say, I don't risk and try to reach for vocabulary I'm shaky on but work with what I know decently. That's why I like coupling the exchanges with private classes, which I go to twice a week and are a better place for reaching and experimenting. I also think that in a language exchange it is useful to ask my partner "is the way I said that correct?" but not productive to ask "why?" I save those questions for my teacher.

Alex encouraged me to discover certain transition phrases (على فكرة... على كل حال... بالرغم من) and put them into practice in my speech, which give the impression of being more fluent and conversant than I am. This has been a fun exercise with my private teacher, since I take the English phrases I want and try to describe to her a situation that I might use them.

I'm on board with the many lines of criticism telling us that we need to make an active effort to start unplugging our lives before we turn into cyborgs; that said, having a round of friends here I chat with on Facebook or Whatsapp has indeed been great practice for seeing spelled out how people are saying what I hear each day. In conversations, I still feel like I rarely could repeat back word-for-word what someone has said to me, even if I usually get the message through key words and context.

I bought Diwan Baladna, an ammiya vocabulary book organized by subject matter. I really like it – my hope is that it will help me turn a lot of passive vocabulary into active vocabulary. I have a quibble with the audio component (read too fast in long audio files that make it tedious to isolate the word I want. And having sample sentences is far better than English translations!).

And finally, as per Alex's encouragement, I continue to avoid dictionaries and translation apps. I make ample use of Reverso Context, but only after I've read a message or passage several times through, and usually I'm using it to confirm my guess of a word's meaning is true. Especially when it comes to Whatsapp and chatting, the majority of messages I am receiving are ones that involve words I know well (Want to meet at this time? How far did you run today? I have foul and rice my mom made, want some? It's veg.)

Language Learner's Journal: Increasing Spoken Fluency

[This is a continuation of Taylor's blog series where she details some of the week-in-week-out lessons that she learns through her Arabic studies and coaching work together with me. For other posts in the series, click here.]

Another cycle is coming to an end – my eight-week Sijal evening course will soon finish, which means I'll be cobbling together a mixture of private lessons, independent study and activities, and perhaps a language partner again in the upcoming weeks and months. In these recent weeks taking evening courses and private lessons, I've been very glad to have guidance from Alex about how to structure my free study time – doing a single textbook, like we did at my previous course at Qasid, gave us a routine and filled our evenings with homework, but switching to a more self-directed study has given me both the freedom and responsibility to use it productively.

I feel that my weakest area is my ability to chat and that my speaking is trailing my listening and reading comprehension. Two points Alex has driven home to me is to make time to read out loud and to practice "shadowing," lip syncing to a recording and trying to imitate its intonation. I remember this being a wake-up for me when I was learning Portuguese in Brazil – somehow, not thinking "I am Taylor constructing the best sentences I can after semesters of Portuguese classes" but instead "I am imitating how a Brazilian would emphatically say this" both greased my confidence wheels and led people to pay attention and understand me, because it "sounded right." When I review my Anki cards over breakfast, I both read my sample sentences out loud and, when I've included an audio clip on the back of the card, try to say it in real time along with it. I've also worked on "shadowing" with the Colloquial Palestinian Arabic textbook, which includes nice long dialogues (some of which are too fast for my level, or, I can't lip sync speedily enough to them!)

I still feel like I have something like a "deer in the headlights" reaction when someone speaks to me and I don't have a response ready. Practicing when I know I have a certain phrase coming up, even if I just run through it once in my head (what Alex has called "planned spontaneity"), makes all the difference.

I generally have ants in my pants (hence going on seven years freelancing and fleeing office work), so I've been taking advantage of any interesting Arabic events or activities that come my way. For the past few weeks I've gone to a Thursday evening Evangelical church service, which has blown me away by how accessible both its sermons and songs are for my Arabic level. There's so much to be said for knowing one's context and making educated guesses at the words we're hearing – that's how I picked up that the ١٢ تلاميذ must be disciples and the word مجد repeated in our songs seemed to mean glory or glorify. It's also a nice mix of dialect and fusha, seemingly varying on whether the song leader/pastor is going for a charismatic or reverent tone.

Alex has also encouraged me to not let reading go to the wayside even as I focus on speaking, and he suggested I work with a play from Tawfiq al-Hakim, since the dialogue structure of a play is nicely accessible to a learner. It makes all the difference to have a lengthy text with a coherent story – there's many words I would not spell correctly or I'd waffle if asked to produce them on my own (or I wouldn't recall them at all), but a story full of coherent clues leads me to understand a pleasantly surprising amount. I've been reading الأيدي الناعمة, which is nice social commentary with easily recognizable themes and characters.

As my current Sijal course comes to a close, I've also been thinking about what kind of activities I want to take on next. I'm game for all things athletic, and the pocket-full-of-tricks coordinator at Sijal gave me a nice playlist of workout videos from the program دنيا يا دنيا.

I've also decided I want to give a language partner another shot. It helps that I met someone, a store clerk, whom I thought would be great – for several weeks after we first chatted about each learning Arabic and English, I thought about how dynamic and fluid our conversation was, and decided to return to the store to ask if she's like to meet up for an exchange. Some lessons I learned from my last attempt at this: choose a very quiet place (some coffee shops are not!), be stickler on dividing English and Arabic speaking times, decide on some topics beforehand, and be patient and resist the urge to finish someone's sentence for them, because very often we can find another path to express ourselves.

[To learn more about coaching with Alex, click here. To learn more about 'Master Arabic', a guide for intermediate-level Arabic students, click here.]

Guest Post: Can robots be language coaches?

I wrote a guest post over on the Learner Coaching ELT blog:

I read From English Teacher to Learner Coach only recently. I received a glowing recommendation from a fellow language coach, Lýdia Machová, and the more I read, the more enthusiastic I became. The methods described in the book mesh pretty well with those I developed through my own studies of various languages. This was an approach suited not only to those learning English, but rather something that could (and should!) be adopted by the thousands of native English-speakers who struggle to learn a second language each year.

Indeed, the general message of the book – one I interpreted as ‘we don’t have to wait to be taught; we can learn for ourselves’ – is something that I believe has important implications for how we go about education in the coming decades. (I was especially pleased to learn a new word – heutagogy – for this somewhat hard-to-define practice of self-education). Seth Godin has written about the demise of the system of factory education and others are tackling this from various angles.

Read more...

On Reading in Arabic: The Evidence

[This is the second post in a series on the importance of reading when studying Arabic (or any other language). Read the first post here.]

It is notoriously difficult to study and show which are the most efficient methods to study second languages. For starters, everyone is slightly different, so it's hard to compare between individuals. Learning a language is also such an involved pursuit (taking place over all hours of the day, and in the mind, where microscope or dictaphone can't usefully reach) that it is impractical to follow the student for all twenty-four hours of the day.

Having given the pitch for why I think reading is so important for students of Arabic, today I wanted to summarise a study that was carried out from 1970-1977. This study, by ElSaid Badawi, is entitled "In the quest for the Level 4+ in Arabic: training Level 2–3 learners in independent reading" and can be found as an article in Betty Lou Leaver and Boris Shekhtman's fascinating (and underrated / underred) edited volume, Developing Professional-Level Language Proficiency. Given its somewhat obscure provenance, it's unlikely you'd come across this fascinating article in the normal course of your day, hence my interest in summarising it for you here.

Badawi offers an overview of his experience running the CASA (Center for Arabic Study Abroad) programme between 1970-1977. This programme was originally started in 1967 for advanced-level students and the idea of it was to give a year of intensive study in order to really catapult students into real competency in being able to read, speak and use Arabic in a professional capacity. (Badawi begins his article with a justification for reading, but I'll skip those details since their is a great deal of overlap with what I've already written).

The original CASA curriculum in the 1967-era programme was established around a 3000-word vocabulary list, reading of some short passages using those words in context, a grammar book and two long 'authentic' texts that would be covered over the course of the year. The students found this dull and unrewarding, however, so CASA's administrators decided to design a new course based around familiarising students with a 'language domain of their interests'. In other words: allowing them to read things that were related to their interests and professional trajectory.

Students taking part in the programme were assessed (prior to joining) as being at a high level, but their vocabulary was generally limited to political subjects. They had a poor understanding of morphology and little to no facility with semantics. They had, Badawi writes, bad reading habits in Arabic: too much focus on sentence structure, engaged in 'parsing-based reading' and with only a minimal grasp of the "semantic role of punctuation". In that last case, this is the way Arabic uses words, phrasing and sentence constructions to signify the meaning of a sentence, whereas in English a lot of those meaning structures are conveyed through punctuation. Most of all, students suffered from an 'excessive / crippling' use of the Arabic-English dictionary, which was identified as an obstacle to spontaneous and contextualised language learning; words were quickly forgotten.

The programme sought to encourage a switch in its students: "a change of attitude toward Arabic from that of a language they are being taught to one which they should start learning". The responsibility, at this level, generally should switch from the teacher to the students.

The programme was split up into three semesters / terms:

• Semester 1: 8-week summer programme

This was made up of introductory cultural classes (based around Cairo, Egypt, where students were living. It offered classes to bring students up to a competent level in functional colloquial Arabic. (Students could solve all their problems and interact with Egyptians in a functional way, following the course). There was also a component of media Arabic where students would become familiar with the formalised language used in printed and spoken contexts.

• Semester 2: 14-week autumn programme

This semester was for allowing students to gain a higher competence in MSA. Reading was one of the core elements here (news reading became effortless and there was some inclusion of classical language as well). Colloquial Arabic was encouraged through the reading of plays (which often used colloquial/dialect expressions and language). An intensive reading programme was added alongside this to boost confidence.

• Semester 3: 14-week spring programme

The final semester included three graduate-level courses in subjects of the students' interest / choice. There was also some training in 'Educated Spoken Arabic' (i.e. the discussion of high-culture topics).

The Intensive Reading Course

The core belief behind the programme was that reading was important to the students' knowledge of Arabic in a fundamental way. All the other skills would benefit and develop alongside the reading done as part of the programme. There were different kinds of texts available and a selection criteria for what kinds of reading took place:

Finding materials for intensive / analytic reading was easy. The harder issue was finding materials suitable for extensive reading, i.e. the kind of wide-reading that students are able to do with some level of ease. Arabic poses a particular problem in this regard, given its 'wide range of active vocabulary in use', and the 'complexity of the morphs-semantic system'.

Plays were believed to be the best for extensive reading. They carried a "high degree of word and sentence redundancy", usually had only a single theme and were of moderate length. (It was found that reading two 200-page books was much more satisfying than reading a single 400-page book). Plays also lend themselves to real-life activities. There is also the possibility of watching the plays being performed (or, now, on YouTube).

Novels were also considered useful, but the fact that dialogue is used only minimally means that they were kept for later in the semester. Short stories were denser in meaning and language use and thus harder. They were included in the programme, though, for the sake of variety.

Overall, texts were chosen for the language structures used rather than for their literary value / content.

Reading Texts

The course had students reading three items each week. Usually one novel or a play (a long item) and a short story and a 1-act play (i.e. two short items). These were generally from the same author, and difficulty would escalate over time. All texts were authentic and unabridged. Ideally they were selected from leading literary figures and they would all be texts for which no English translations already exist. Selecting these texts was hard at the beginning, but over the years they settled into a broad pattern, escalating in difficulty:

• Group 1 (first three weeks)

Plays by Tawfiq al-Hakim (short and long). These were good because he uses a lot of redundant vocabulary, follow familiar thematic sources to those with which students would have been familiar, used a lively dialogue and generally contained "straightforward language".

• Group 2 (5 weeks)

This consisted of works by Ihsan Abdul Quddus, a journalist, novelist and short story writer. These works tackled themes from social phenomena and thus were appropriate to a young audience. They referenced local customs and expressions. They included fewer dialogues in the novels and short stories. They had a lucid structure and controlled range of vocabulary.

• Group 3

This was works by Yusuf Idris, blending MSA with colloquial idioms, Qur'anic citations and quotations from the hadith literature. These were at a higher difficulty level.

• Group 4

This was a mix of items chosen for special topical interest or artistic value. For example, in the final week, students read Fathy Ghanem's 1958 novel Al-Gabal. They also tackled some of the non-famous novels by Nagib Mahfouz.

Mixed in these various groups were shorter items: one-act plays and short stories. There was generally a balance between length of a text and its linguistic difficulty.

Reading Instructions

I found this section of the article the most interesting / instructive. Students were told the following:

• The beginning of a story / text is always the hardest. You don't know what's going on, who the characters are and what the context / scene is. Bear with it. A lot of this will be scene-setting. You can always return back to it later on.
• Arabic has a lot of redundancy. Compare what you are stuck on with what follows and check if you can figure out the meaning that way.
• Continue reading as long as you can make out a story or theme for yourself. Don't worry or second-guess yourself as to whether what you understand from the story is the same thing as what the author intended you to understand.
• If you find a word or part of the structure you don't understand and stop, DON'T look the word up in the dictionary unless:
  • you have failed to guess the meaning
  • there is nobody around to ask the meaning
• Mark / highlight the words you were able to guess in the text. Mark the words you were able to do without understanding.
• Make a list of cultural features that you'd like to be addressed in class.
• Mark and make a list of any expressions and grammatical features or constructions that you want addressed in class.

Classes

Class sessions were essentially there to ensure that students were keeping up with the reading volume. Students would narrate their understanding of the texts they had read, and would raise any issues they wanted to learn more about.

Classes were also a good time to increase students' semantic understanding -- allowing students to identify shared roots and usages in different contexts and forums.

Students submitted written responses / follow-ups to the text in the class with the teacher present. A weekly conference with students gathered feedback on the choices of texts, allowing teachers to adapt the programme depending on the ease/difficulty perceived by each individual cohort of students.

Results

By the end of the 14-week programme, students had read an average of 2500 pages of authentic Arabic texts. Graded text levels showed that their language was improving. They were encouraged by managing to review words and structures that had been marked as 'hard' earlier on in the semester. (Usually 25-40% of these words had become intelligible to them, despite no vocabulary learning strategy specifically targeted at learning these words.) The graduate-level courses (all taught in Arabic, obviously) of the final semester were also a proving ground for students.

This reading programme increase students' competence and was transferrable to their other skills. (Yes, even their spoken Arabic.) Reading helped with writing. Reading 'complete texts' did a lot for the morale of the students at the intermediate-level, too. And the literary focus of the content was useful for students even if their interests didn't lie in that particular area.

My next post about reading Arabic will detail some options that are available to the intermediate-level student of Arabic, and some practical considerations resulting from this article.