Irritable vowel syndrome (IVS) is a functional vowel disorder characterised by transliteration pain, discomfort and/or bloating; and is relieved by excessive increase in vowel allocation.

Such that a simple term like kitab becomes kitaab.

Loose vowel distribution (diiiaaarrhoooeeeaaa) or retentive obsession (cnstptn) may predominate, or they may even alternate (classified as IVS-D, IVS-C or IVS-A, respectively.)

IVS may begin after the reading of an internet article (post-infectious, IVS-PI) wherein Arabic terminology has been transliterated using a multiplicity of vowels where one would suffice.

Other functional or written disorders and certain psychological conditions are more common in those with IVS.

Such as a tendency to use grandiose or archaic terminology whilst lamenting the deviation or misguidance of others.

Treatment for IVS can include dietary adjustments, medication, psychological interventions or even a sturdy “look-in-the-mirror.”

Patient re-education and a good dictionary-patient relationship are also important.

I’d just finished to visit a friend in hospital and figured that I might as well stock up on some ‘A/C-induced-flu’ medicine from the hospital pharmacy before I made my way back home.

I opened the door to the chemist’s and was greeted by a smiling face.

“Do you have something like Calpol, you know liquid paracetamol for kids? And, can I have a couple of packets of Panadol, please?”

I drummed my fingers idly on the counter as the assistant busied himself amongst the shelves.

“Fevadol is for children” he placed the box before me “And Panadol.”

“How much?” I asked pulling the notes I was expecting to use from my wallet.

“This, 17 riyal.”

Not much of a man of receipts, I placed the exact money on the counter and reached for the medicine intending a quick exit.

“Wait!” He said forcefully and thrust his hand forward; hovering it above mine with his fingers spread to indicate stop.

I looked up, gently releasing my grip of the medicine and slowly withdrew my hand.

“I give you kis” he said domineeringly.

What could I possibly reply to such an obtuse request?

As I stood there reflecting upon how ticklish his moustache looked, he must have construed my delay to respond as a form of passive consent.

He reached under the counter, fidgeting for something and pulled out…

… the plastic bag (known as kīs [كيس  kees] in the local dialect) that he’d just offered me.

Al-hamdu lillāh, fear was replaced by relief.

Nowadays, I just smile to myself whenever a shopkeeper asks me “kīs?”

“No, just a bag will do thanks!”

A friend didn’t believe me that I’d seen a restaurant of this name.

Well, I hope that finally puts the matter to rest?

I’ve been trying all morning to either upload an MP3 directly onto this blog or at least insert a widget from my esnip account. But, alas! To no avail.

So, rather than waste any more of my morning, I’ll just link you all to the Islamic Awakening forum where the audio insert worked properly.

Abou Moujahed (All the Reckless People)

I was quite disappointed to find out that some of the terms, phrases and expressions that I learnt as a child are dying out in their usage.

I had been talking with a close friend when I became distracted and had to stop him mid-conversation to inform him that he had a “Mr. Majeika.” Then, very much to my dismay, he asked “What’s a ‘Mr. Majeika’?”

Mr. Majeika was a children’s television (and book) character played on-screen by Stanley Baxter. The character was a wizard and had a magical tuft of hair rising from the centre of his head which moved and twitched whenever he cast a spell.

In street terminology, to have a “Mr. Majeika” means that you have a rogue clump of hair (normally in the vicinity of the crown) which is pointing up towards the stars and doin’ its own thang; unwilling to confirm to the methodology of the rest of the scalp.

My friend’s situation was slightly different to that of the norm, but nonetheless equally as serious.

His “Mr. Majeika” was the result of a defective kufi. The hole in the middle of his kufi had forced his hair into a very visible “Mr. Majeika.” One which I felt duty-bound to inform him of.

Rather than explain it to him through a series of diagrams and hand gestures, I opted to show him exactly what his “Mr. Majeika” was and asked him to hold still while I steadied my camera-phone.

I do believe that It is only fair and polite - nay, compulsory upon us - that we should care enough for al-Majeikiyoon to take the few seconds that it needs to notify them of the presence of a “Mr. Majeika.”

Give the people the opportunity to rectify their skull-scrapers.

If expressions like these are left to die out think of the societal repercussions and the subsequent increase in  hair related infractions worldwide.

So, please, keep the phrase alive!

Tell someone close to you when they have a “Mr. Majieka.”

Like Bert my predecessor, I’m a collector of odd things.

However, what I collect is much more exciting than the illusive Fizzy Fig bottle cap made famous by Sesame Street.

I collect Saudi emergency telephone numbers!

My chosen abode isn’t like my homeland; where we only have one, all encompassing, number to ring in the event of an emergency.

No!

Saudi Arabia has, well, I’m still collecting and so I’m yet to discover how many numbers.

Imagine the monotony facing your average Brit, irrespective of what type of emergency occurs in his life  requiring immediate attention, he’s always going to have to deftly dial the old 9-9-9 number sequence.

The American equivalent is, of course, 9-1-1 (Hmm, maybe there’s a conspiracy theory in there somewhere.)

However, here in Saudi Arabia we have a generous selection of numbers that we can ring. Specific numbers for specific emergencies.

Not that your average Saudi (and I’ve questioned a few on this) knows or uses more than one or two you understand.

Well, I’m now the proud owner of a collection of 8 emergency numbers and I’m hopeful that someone out there will be able to help me fill the remaining gaps.

999 - Police الشرطه

998 - Fire المطافي

997 - Ambulance الإسعاف

996 - Road Security/Highway Patrol  أمن الطرق

995 - Drug Protectors/Detectives مكافحة المخدرات

994 - Coast Guard حرس الحدود

993 - Traffic Police المرور والحوادث

992 -Immigration الترحيل

991 - ?

990 -  Secret Service المباحث العامه

ٍSo, are there any Ernies out there who can help me complete my collection?

I’m concerned that there might be an emergency out there somewhere that my collection gap leaves me uncovered for.

I was marking some of the grade nine boys’ Islamic studies end-of-year exam papers this morning. Some of the answers they gave were simply priceless.

Grade nine means that they’re about 14-15 years old. Also, some of them are learning English as a second language.

Warning: Do not let your stay exceed three days!

What is the right of the guest?

He should be fully hospitalised and feel relaxed in your home.

What is the right of the guest?

You should hospitalise him and make him feel comfortable.

I think they’re just getting obsessed with violence now.

Write down one hadīth that encourages good character in terms of speech.

Whoever believes in Allah and the last day should either say good or if wanting to say something bad remain quiet and should hospitalise his neighbours.*

Well it depends on who’s invited you really.

What is the right of the guest?

Right of the guest is to be kind to the hosts and if they invited him he should regret the invitation.

Ship ahoy!

What part of the female must be covered in the salāh?

From bow to stern…

Um, I hope he doesn’t come to a masjid that I’m in.

What part of the male must be covered in the salāh?

… the pants or trousers must be below the knee

It was actually amazing how many boys specified, by name, the male reproductive organ when answering the question above.

____________________

* Now just so that we’re balancing the comedy with knowledge here, the hadīth that we were looking for was:

Abu Hurayrah (radiy Allahu ‘anhu) reported that the Messenger of Allah (salla Allahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) said:

“Let whosoever believes in Allah and in the Last Day either speak good or be silent. Let whosoever believes in Allah and in the Last Day honour his neighbour. Let whosoever believes in Allah and in the Last Day honour his guest.” [Bukhari & Muslim]

Yes, I’ve succumbed (or perhaps, stooped) to photographing amusingly shaped vegetables!

I discovered this fine specimen at Tamimi Market and took a couple of quick snaps before leaving him perched on top of some onions , so that others might marvel at his foetal like characteristics.

If you look closely at the picture on the right, I’m sure you can just make out a half closed eye.

… chewing gum is a form of legal tender (many shops can’t be bothered giving you change if it involves the coinage, halalas, and just give you a pack of gum instead) why can’t I find any chewing gum remover?!

I had to ask my mother to bring me some from the UK when she visited because kids somehow have an ability to find gum anywhere to chew.

I think I mentioned before that I teach 6-7 year old boys in an international school.

An integral part of the English program is the weekly spelling test. The words selected for the tests are mostly words that are spelt phonetically (i.e. they are spelt like they sound). This way it also serves to help their reading develop.

Last year I learned that you need to be careful which words you select for these tests because innocent spelling errors, whilst entertaining, can be startling.

For example, when I set the word “crop” for them to learn about 40% of the class changed the vowel when they reproduced it in the test. I subsequently opted to remove the word “shot” from a future test. I’m omitting some other examples here but there have been more.

Anyway, this one really took me by surprise. The theme for the spelling this particular week was comparative endings, i.e. adding ‘-ed’ and ‘-est’ to words. The word was ‘fast’ and it’s companions were ‘faster’ and ‘fastest.’

I particularly like his ‘-est’ derivative, I think I’d like to use it in a sentence one day.