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Arabic is not a language I will ever learn to speak. There are sounds that my mouth just cannot form. I learned this while living in Morocco. To my ear, the Arabic word for "red" sounded exactly the same as the word for "donkey". My Moroccan friends assured me that the words were different. I never believed them. Very fortunately, the only one of those words that I could say correctly was "donkey". Although most Arabic speakers would consider it a grave insult, "hamar" became an endearing term that my Moroccan friends and I called each other.
I learned quickly that in Palestine you don't call anybody "hamar".
On the other hand, habibi endears you to everyone almost immediately. It roughly translates as "dear one". You can call your spouse or child habibi. It also works for friends. I called the two high school girls who gave me Valentine silk roses my Valentine habibis. They guy who served me cappuccino was my coffee habibi. The best artist at my mural site in Jerusalem was my artist habibi.
However, I had one very special group of students who were MY HABIBIS. This group of six students in Taybeh, Palestine, painted with me more than anyone else at the mural site. Whenever they entered the playground area where the mural was located, I called out, "MY HABIBIS!" Everyone in the school knew who I was talking about.
All of my habibis in Taybeh spoke English at varying degrees. One boy, who was among the best at English, was also the first brave student to talk to the American artist who arrived in their midst. One day, towards the end of the mural experience, I asked him, "Does your mother call you habibi? "Yes." And, does your father call you habibi. "Yes." But then, he admitted, "Nobody has ever called me habibi as much as you have this week."
Yes, he was one of my habibis.
So, for two and a half months, I called people habibi all over Israel and Palestine. It wasn't until the last day there that one young woman corrected me. It appears that "habibi" is only meant for men. If you have a special dear female in your life, you call her "habibti".
I told the young woman that I was too old to change my ways. I called everyone my habibi. It was too late to change at this point. Whether she liked it or not, that young woman was still my "coffee habibi".