'Lost in translation'

The UAE has a substantial non national population. Depending on whom you ask the estimates for the non locals vary from 60% to as high as 90%. Proficiency in any language is not a requirement for getting a resident permit here. It is for this reason that you will find quite a number, of mostly South Asians labourers, who do not speak both Arabic and English – the two official languages. The South Asians actually make a significant portion of these ‘expatriate groups’, contributing more than three quarters of the foreigners in the UAE.

Sometimes, therefore, it is not unusual for one to seek services from certain establishments and fail to effectively communicate with the service provides. Like when I recently went to a barbershop – and I keep on talking about barbershops! The place was run by some Bengali youth. I could bet they were all teenagers. Or maybe their small stature belied their actual ages? Anyway, none of them spoke English or Arabic. And the whole incident looked like some scene from the Gods Must Be Crazy.

I had to gesture and utilize some other sign language - not that I am proficient in that - to tell them what I wanted. Based on the area the salon was located, it was evident it was meant for Bengali clientele only. It was probably because of this that they didn’t bother to employ a bilingual barber, speaking Bengali and either English or Arabic. However, besides this non technical problem, I was happy with the service and the charges were affordable – at least for my pocket.

Tonight, I had one other encounter with some more Bengalis. And I wonder why only the Bengalis. Anyway, I am sure the same would also apply to the Indians and Pakistanis, and some other South Asians as well. Maybe this is because I live not far from the Bangladeshi consulate in Dubai.

Anyway, I met some two Bengali nationals and they were looking for a certain clinic. I had just left the mosque when they stopped me. And they had a request form for a certain radiological examination. They pointed to a spot on the map they were holding implying that was where they were headed to. Their destination somehow corresponded to my former work place; a hospital that has since been closed. The hospital, actually, is more like what Museveni would call "Only fit for a museum". "Closed!", I thus yelled at them hoping that will easily understand. I could, however, immediately tell that they didn’t get what I said.

And, like some revelation, it occurred to me that I could tell where they were headed to from the forms they were carrying. It is then that I saw the name of the clinic they were referred to. I laid the map in front of my eyes and saw the name of a certain travel agency. The name was familiar but as usual with me, I couldn't instantly recognise it. And then I got the bearings correctly. The travel agency was in fact opposite the mosque I had just left. And the clinic was just next to it.

I directed them and they seemed so happy.