PrepareSheet 10 of 10Reviewed 28 September 2026
Thirty phrases, and how to read the signs.
The Arabic that actually gets used on the ground — directions, help, the camp — plus how the Mashair signs work, for when your phone does not.
You do not need Arabic to perform Hajj. The rites are between you and Allah in any language, your group leadership speaks yours, and around the Haram simple English goes a long way, and so do Urdu and many other languages, because the workers and volunteers come from everywhere.
But there are moments — crowds, noise, a dead battery, the far end of Mina at 2 a.m. — when thirty memorized phrases beat any translation app. This page covers those moments and nothing more.
The ones you will actually use
As-salamu alaykum — the greeting that opens every exchange, everywhere.
Shukran — thank you. · Afwan — you’re welcome / excuse me.
Min fadlak — please (to a man); min fadlik to a woman.
Na’am / La — yes / no. · Tayyib — fine, okay.
Ana la atakallam al-’arabi — I don’t speak Arabic.
Hal tatakallam inglizi? — do you speak English?
La afham — I don’t understand.
Wayn…? — where is…? The single highest-value word on this page.
Yameen / yasar / seeda — right / left / straight ahead.
Qareeb / ba’eed? — near / far?
Finding your way
Wayn al-hammam? — where is the bathroom?
Wayn al-mukhayyam raqam…? — where is camp number…? Say the number in English; digits are universally understood.
Wayn mahattat al-qitar? — where is the train station?
Wayn bab…? — where is gate…? (Bab al-Malik Fahd, Bab as-Salam — the gates have names; The Waiting Days explains why you should learn the name of the gate you use.)
Ana tayih / Ana tayha — I am lost (man / woman). Say it to any officer or volunteer while showing your wristband, and they will get you back to your camp.
Wayn al-funduq…? — where is the … hotel?
When you need help
Sa’idni, min fadlak — help me, please.
Ana mareed / mareedah — I am sick (man / woman).
Wayn al-mustashfa? Wayn al-’iyadah? — where is the hospital / the clinic?
Doctor! — understood everywhere on earth, including here.
Ma’i / ma’ee moya? — (do you have) water? Moya — water — is the word you will hear and use most on the hot days.
Itassil bi-hadha ar-raqam — call this number (show them the number you wrote on paper — this is one reason to carry it on paper).
Buying things
Bikam hadha? — how much is this?
Ghali! — expensive! A normal part of bargaining.
Andak…? — do you have…?
Al-hisab, min fadlak — the bill, please.
Numbers, spoken: wahid, ithnayn, thalatha, arba’a, khamsa (1–5) — ’ashara (10) — mi’ah (100). For everything else, holding up fingers or typing the number into your phone’s calculator works fine.
In the camp and with the group
Al-mukhayyam — the camp. · Al-khaymah — the tent.
Al-bas — the bus. · Mata al-bas? — when is the bus?
Al-murshid — the guide / group leader.
Ta’al / ta’ali — come (man / woman). · Istanna — wait.
Shwayy shwayy — slowly, gently — useful in crowds, and what you will hear officers saying to the crowd.
Khalas — done, finished, enough. The most versatile word in the Gulf.
Reading the signs
The Mashair are heavily signed, and the system is more learnable than it first looks:
- Everything official is bilingual — Arabic with English beneath, on road signs, gate names and facility markers. The exceptions are hand-painted camp-level notices, which is where the phrases above are useful.
- Your camp address is a number and a zone, and Mina is organized as a numbered grid of streets and blocks. The address on your wristband corresponds to signboards at street level. Officials find their way by these signs, which is why On the Ground tells you to treat your camp number as your address.
- The Jamarat complex is directional: entry and exit routes are separated and one-way, signed by level and direction. Follow the flow arrows, not the shortcut a confident stranger is taking.
- The Mashair train stations are numbered by site — Mina has three; know which serves your camp before the 8th, from your group.
- Photograph, every time you arrive somewhere: your tent number, the nearest street sign, the gate you entered by. Your camera is your best reader of Arabic, and the photo works at 2 a.m. when nothing else does.



