Another funny one. Tarek is the youngest member of this class. He is from Syria, he is barely 21, and in many ways he fulfills the cliché of the young Arab male: mostly in a good mood, exuberant to a fault, cheeky and a bit vain which he demonstrates mainly with his hairstyle: a typical undercut, which he re-arranges quite often during class. I am in two minds about him: I somehow like him but he also grates on my nerves.
Today he made a few mistakes in a row and he always says “Sorry!” at least three times when that happens. This time, he followed it up with an explanation: “I have a hair ache.” Everybody laughed at this mix-up of words. We are currently learning how to give advice and somebody quipped: “You need to go to a hairdresser. Make your hair like Saad – no more hair ache!”
Saad is bald.
Noch ein lustiger Moment. Tarek ist der Jüngste in der Klasse. Er kommt aus Syrien, er ist gerade mal 21, und erfüllt in vielen Aspekten das Klischee des jungen Arabers: meist gut gelaunt, ausgelassen bis kaum zu bändigen, vorlaut und ein bisschen eitel, was er hauptsächlich bei seiner Frisur auslebt: ein typischer Undercut, mit dem er sich öfter während des Unterrichts beschäftigt. Ich bin in meiner Reaktion auf ihn zweigeteilt: irgendwie mag ich ihn und irgendwie geht er mir ganz schön auf die Nerven.
Heute machte er ein paar Fehler hintereinander und wie immer sagt er dann mindestens dreimal “Sorry!”, wenn das passiert. Heute schob er eine Erklärung nach: “Ich habe Haarschmerzen.” Alle lachten über diese Verwechslung. Wir lernen zur Zeit, wie man Ratschläge gibt, und ein Teilnehmer witzelte: “Du musst zum Friseur gehen. Mach deine Haare wie Saad – keine Haarschmerzen mehr!
Saad hat eine Glatze.
eklastic 
Well, I don’t have to deal with him, so I just admire his spirit, managing to be cheeky despite having had more of an adventurous life than he would doubtless have chosen. Still, I guess he can get wearing.
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I have the urge to tell him that “NO! YOU CANNOT SPEAK ENGLISH!” (he claims he does, he knows a few words and a couple of phrases). It should be irrelevant to me but he is so cocky about it. And he keeps talking. He asks something and while I answer he turns to his neighbours and whispers (or speaks loudly) to them in Arabic. I never had to grip my desk before in a class!
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Funny. Mom always told me when I complained about having a headache, “We could cut it off. That would cure it.” I always opted for the head ache.
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