“Good morning… How are you? What about your activities? And how is the house? Oh that is very good now. I am going to go in the house now, I’m tired. See you in a small while.”
Everyday I greet an elderly man who spent 33 years in Ghana. Everyday he asks me the same thing, genuinely concerned of course. And everyday (unless I am visiting a Peace Corps Volunteer) that is about all the English I get. So I spend most of my days attempting to speak French and Bissa…actually I spend most of my time hearing others speak languages I don’t understand.
“Moi? Encore, sil vous plait.” (Me? Again, please)
I am so used to sitting there not listening that I don’t know when people are actually talking to me.
“No c’est pas vrai. Je compri bien mais je parle mal.” (No, that’s not true. I understand but I speak poorly).
This is a statement I say often. I think people actually look down at me. Poor girl, she doesn’t understand French. What does she speak- English? No, not the English of Ghana. Poor thing.
Right now it’s difficult. I am still learning. I have gotten used to just thinking, watching, living a solo life. And learning how to hold my tongue when people think of me as a “poor thing.” (Maybe its best I don’t know French, hehe).
***
Greetings here are extensive. In America, unless I really know the person, I would just ask how they were doing and expect a “fine” or “good”. Here, there is the same expectation- “Laafi”, “Laafi Bala” (Moore), or “Laafi Tan” (Bissa)- but it is “prope” to ask about almost everything- house, business, family, your morning/afternoon/night, and so on. I am actually astonished sometimes how long the greetings are.
If you are seeing someone for the first time in an area, you say “Yassi Yassi” (Bissa) or “Bonne Arrive” (French). Every person, every time. I have gotten so accustomed to it. So much so I actually got a little upset the other day when I came home from working and was just stared at. I demanded a “Yassi Yassi”. It was probably bad timing.
If you see someone working “Ziiba Ziiba Ziiba” (Bissa) – loosely translated to “keep up the good work”.
If someone comes back from wherever it’s “Kit a ka?” (Bissa)- “Where were you?”. Now I’m used to living a semi-private life and sharing only the information I want to, so this is always a difficult question for me to respond to… but I do because I am here and to integrate I must.
There is always an exchange of benedictions, which I don’t know yet. But people are always blessing my health, my life, my work, my day, my house. And since I don’t know them yet when people say them, I always respond “Barka” (Bissa/Moore)- “Thank you”. And then I get the correcting whisper “Amina”- “Amen”. And then I respond “Amin Amin Amin”- always three times and without the “a” on the end (this is the way everyone says it so I follow suit).
And everyday, my greetings are their own little adventure. I know how to respond, but I am never quite sure how to start off. There are at least four languages I have to know to live in my village and I am never quite sure how someone is going to respond:
Most people will speak to me in Bissa.
Some people I know are Moosi (major ethnic group here), so I talk to them in Moore.
For some reason men, especially teenage boys, will only speak French to me (maybe they are trying to display their education).
And then others always speak broken English to me, always. And they are always excited. And I always give them the same reaction- my face lights up in shock. I usually respond in French. They say “I speak English small small.” I nod. They ask “I want to learn English, teach me English?” I say “After I learn French and Bissa, I will teach you English.” “Okay, Merci.”
And finally there are my favorites- the preschoolers. We have a Danish NGO here that provides our village with many different amenities including a “Prescolaire”. My little buddies love to greet me. Whether I am riding past on a bike, sitting on my porch or walking through the community it’s the same thing each time. They fold their arms, take one step forward and say “Bonjour Madame, Bonjour Tante.” (Good day Ma’m, Good day Auntie.) I adore them.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
That is wonderful Karla. So happy to hear that you are acclimating yourself. We all loved your letters and are gathering our own to send another little package your way soon. Hopefully by next week. I pray and think of you often and want you to stay encouraged because you have inspired so many here with your courage and boldness to do something no one in our immediate circle has done. Stay strong Niece!
Hi Karla, this is cousin Kim. I admire your courage to go to Africa and change you whole way of life, but that is definitely your character (even though we know that all Houston women have some sho' nuff diva in them LOL). If there is anything I can send, please let Auntie know and I will make it part of a package she sends. We miss you and stay safe. I understand the French thing . . .can understand it, but speak it oh boy! Hopefully you are well. The last blog post I read was when you were a little sick. Love you.
I think you are facing a very steep learning curve, but one that will leave you so much more talented than before. I think your post is awesome. I love the initiative you are taking to overcome this! I love you and miss you lots!
its wonderous thing to read your accounts. many of your descriptions mirror my young life. like running to the store,playing with your friends all day, getting dress in new or clean clothes to go out or when i went to the capital- georgetown-. when you write i see it all. yes and we washed our shoes. now i don't bother. also you are a verrrrrrrry good writer - i feel when this is all done - you need to print these digital dictates that you send out to the world.
love kwesi
Post a Comment