Lions, Goats, and Clocks.....oh MY!

Language learning is like a cultural tour through the past and present. Our professor loves to share the back stories of words and phrases, and it helps us better understand their meaning and use. One of my favorites is the word for lion which is “taktakiri”. They are named after the sound their claws make; tak tak, tak. I can just hear the sound in my mind.

The word for clock is “yeewirgel waktu”. This is derived from their verb to look, “yeewde,” and means the thing you look at to see the hour (waktu). The story behind this term is that before there were such things as clocks to tell time, the shepherds would use the shadow made by their staff to give them an approximate time of day. 

A goat is  “mbeewa” and it is a very important word to know, first because the Tukolor are a nomadic people who tend flocks of goats, sheep, and cows. Second, everywhere you look you see goats, you hear goats, and you step on goat droppings. Every home comes with a choir of goats who sing to the inhabitants night and day. The interesting tidbit that our professor shared is that a person who talks too much is called a goat! Living amongst the noisy, every present sound of goats gives this idiom powerful and hilarious meaning.

Until next time - Nallen e Jam!

Jody is a Sitting Debbo

One Hundred Ninety Two pages of Pulaar. That’s the number of pages in my well-worn, green notebook that I filled with Pulaar notes. As I crack open another new notebook, this time with 288 pages and a map of Senegal on the cover, I wonder how well I’ll be able to communicate in Pulaar at the end of this notebook. I’ve said it many times, but with every lesson it becomes more clear, learning a language is like playing with building blocks. One word builds on another and another until a phrase is formed. Phrases build into paragraphs, which give way to complete ideas, and finally communication is the result. It may seem a small victory, but I can tell you that a man is standing, sitting, walking, running, laying, stopping, arriving, and jumping…….in Pulaar.

This is significant to me because it means I’ve managed to learn, not only words, but entire phrases this week. I have a terrible memory so I’m always on the look out for new ways to improve that aspect of my language-learning journey. Word association is one of my favorite methods because it allows me to build a picture in my mind on which to attach new vocabulary. In the GPA language-learning process the first step is to learn simple vocabulary and then build on those words by putting them to action in phrases. 

In my lovely, green notebook there is a picture of a stick figure woman wearing an A-line dress, with two little swoops of hair on either side of her head. Can you picture her? In my head I hear the word “debbo” (woman), when I see this little lady. Next, I see the stick figure woman sitting on a stick figure chair. The verb “to sit one’s self” is “joodaade”. The phrase “the woman is sitting” in Pulaar is "Debbo oo ko joodi.” This is where my imagination and word association kicks in, because I have a very good friend named Jody, which is exactly how “joodi” is pronounced. So now, I have my friend Jody sitting in this stick figure chair, and voila, I can remember the verb to sit, “joodaade”, in Pulaar.

It’s a complicated process if it isn’t hatched out of your own noggin. For example, my husband was learning the word “fotde” which means, “to be equal” in Pulaar. Well, in Wolof the verb “foot” means to wash laundry, so he imagines equal loads of laundry waiting to be washed! Crazy, but it works.

I’m off again, into my imaginary world of vocabulary drawings. Till next time…….

Practice Makes Perfect......Humiliation

Communication is the goal of this language learning adventure, and all adventures have their twists and turns. Some days when I return home from my trek into the jungle of language practice I return without a scratch. The phrases slip off my tongue with ease, and I receive praises for my hard work. There are, however, the wounds of language practice that still sting days after they were inflicted. That sounds so dramatic, but deep in that jungle, when your words are jumbled and your thoughts are lost, the language adventure is not fun or exciting. Those are usually the times when communication is crucial and failure to be understood is discouragingly frustrating.

For now, I'm sticking to the outer edge of that jungle where I can still laugh at myself when I make mistakes. For instance, the other day I was visiting with the lady on the corner who sells fruit. I love to speak Wolof with her because no matter what I say, she thinks it's wonderful. As I was buying apples, another lady approached and greeted us in Pulaar. You can imagine my delight at a chance to practice! However, after the greeting, this woman began a long, lightning fast tirade that left me in the dust. Aside from recognizing a word here or a sound there, I had no idea what she said. Finally the Pulaar speaker turned to go and my fruit selling friend just laughed and said "she is crazy!" At least it wasn't just me.

My next stop was the butcher who is a Pulaar speaker. I was eager to try out some new phrases I had learned, so I swung right into the jungle with greetings. I hit my first stump when he asked me about my husband and I thought he meant my work (there is just a one vowel difference). Continuing down that same path, I asked about his husband (meaning work), and of course I received  a very confused looked. I earnestly explained that I had been studying hard and that I spoke a lot of Pulaar, when I actually meant to say I speak only a little (confusing the words for a lot and a little bit). It wasn't until I returned home that I realized most of my mistakes, but I'm sure my friend the butcher is still scratching his head.

More reports to come as the adventure continues.

The Rhythm of Language

Music is not my strong suit. I'm rhythmically challenged and seem to have a mental block for all things musical. I passed Music Theory in college by the skin of my teeth and would never attempt to sing a solo if my life depended on it. However, it's impossible to avoid the melody of language that surrounds me.

One of my favorite activities in beginner English classes is teaching the alphabet song. My students walk around humming the tune and commit the English sounds to memory much more quickly when it's set to music. Every language has its own natural rhythm. In English, the stress of syllables gives our words a beat and can even change the meaning of words. To go even further, we can say that rhythm and language also help us to more clearly express ourselves and communicate meaning. This can be seen in the lyrics of songs and poetry. The rhythm of the words sets an emotional tone and helps imprint meaning in our minds.

One famous example of this can be found in the Bible in the book of Psalms. This book of poems and songs was used by the Israelites in worship, and is a collection of collections written by Moses, David, Solomon, and others. The meter of the lines, as well as the poetic techniques of the word choice gives each Psalm the emotional punch of meaning its composers were after. In order to fully appreciate these techniques the Psalms need to be heard and understood in their original language. For example, in Psalm 119 the technique of acrostic is used where succeeding letters of the Hebrew alphabet are used to begin each stanza. In numerous Psalms, word pairs are used for emphasis, alliteration and rhyme give rhythm to the lines, and anacrusis (one or more syllables at the beginning of a line of poetry, but not part of the line), draw attention to a thought by causing a pause.

All of these techniques blend together and produce a form of language that gives insight into the history, the culture, the emotions, and the mind set of the authors and those about whom they wrote. Of course poetry and music continues to be as alive today as it was more than a thousand years ago. Every language I've studied has its own music and poetry full of its own emotional rhythm. An essential part of learning the language is becoming familiar with its rhythm.

On a practical note, we ask our language professor to record dialogues which we listen to over and over. This helps us to catch the crazy Pulaar beat, and find the rhythm of their speech. (My own contribution to poetry for the day.)

The Pull of the Peuhl

Joni Joni (Right Away) offers sheep (xhar) and money (xhaliss)
drawings everyday leading up to Tabaski.

The baying of sheep is particularly loud this time of year because our town becomes overwhelmed with the Tabaski flocks. These sheep are  herded in by their Tukolor shepherds who have travel great distances from the Fuuta, a region of Senegal along the Senegal River to the east. The celebration of Tabaski in Senegal is a highly anticipated holiday. The markets become even livelier on the days leading up to the celebration as people cram into the tiny shops and ally ways in search of everything needed in order to prepare themselves and their homes for their special day.  Taylors work night and day, madly sewing new frocks for men, women and children. The noisy sheep on the street know their days are numbered as men sit and deliberate about which Tabaski ram is most suitable for their family feast.

Known in other parts of the world as Eid al-Adha, Tabaski is the Muslim holiday when believers and their families come together to kill the best ram they can afford to buy. Traditionally, this holiday is associated with the story of Abraham’s great faithfulness to God to the point of sacrificing his own son at God’s request. God spares the life of Abraham’s son and supplies a ram for sacrifice instead.  There are differences in the story between Christian and Muslim accounts and even a few twists in the stories recounted by our Senegalese neighbors, but the tradition of sacrifice to God remains common.

What does all this have to do with language learning? The Pulaar speaking Tukalor who flood our town each year with their herds are the reason we are learning this new language in the first place. God has placed this special people on our hearts and we desperately want to communicate with them in their own tongue. This time of year reminds us how language, culture and tradition are all tied together and how understanding shines through most clearly when you hear and understand the people in their heart language.

The Sticky Note Method

The accidental invention of the sticky note 40 years ago was a boost for language learners everywhere. Many who have ever learned a language are familiar with the sticky note method where your entire living space is covered with multi-colored sticky notes on which you've scribbled the words for every noun within eyesight. Some of you are rolling your eyes and others are chuckling because many of us have been there. The door frame has a blue note that says door, the toilet has a pink note that says toilet, a green note flutters in the wind on your window labeled, you guessed it, window. These nouns are the building blocks of language learning. They help you move away from general words like "thingy" to more specific words that help you sound (and feel) more intelligent in your new language learning effort.

Over the years we've used many language learning methods from sticky notes to LAMP (Language Acquisition Made Practical). You can get the job done with just about any method you choose as long as you put in your best effort. In the quest to be more efficient learners, we are going to start a more orally based method. The first part of this method seems simple enough. Your language professor (or helper) points to and says the name of all those objects where you would have attached sticky notes. The words are recorded so that you can repeat them over and over again while looking at the corresponding objects.

Today we started with a dozen or so objects from the kitchen: bowl, spoon, knife, water, oil, milk, etc. The recording has almost become like a Pulaar fairy tale chant of kitchen supplies dancing through my head. It's like one of those commercial jingles that you can't stop singing. I suppose that is a plus since I still remember the golden arches' tune from the 80's, and I definitely deserve "a break today".

Phase one continues next week, after all, there are a lot of sticky notes left.

The Art of Greeting

Comment cava?
Nanga def?
No mbad-daa?
How's it going?

Greetings are an important part of language learning. This is particularly true for African languages. It's a process that goes well beyond a simple, "Hi, how are you?" A greeting in Pulaar can include everything from asking about one's mother to their cat. They are not just a courtesy, they are an integral part of relationships in this African culture.

In a western context, a nod of the head or a simple hello is sufficient when walking into a shop or office before getting down to business. However, to skip the pleasantries of a prolonged greeting in this African culture sets a negative tone for the remainder of your exchange. Aside from learning how to introduce yourself, greetings are one of the first areas African language professors cover, because in order to speak the language you first have to build a rapport with the people.

As I venture out into my neighborhood armed with my meager Pulaar vocabulary, I try to use what I've learned with anyone I can find. The Pulaar man on my corner who sells candy, phone credit, cookies, and a small variety of other daily necessities was my first target. When I greeted him in Pulaar, he excitedly jumped from his stool and dove into a flood of Pulaar phrases. It was all I could do to answer him in my catch all phrase, "jam tan" (just peace). He was more than satisfied with my response and assured me that I would be speaking Pulaar in no time.

I'm off to start learning more vocabulary to use in my greetings......what's Pulaar for kitchen sink?

The Language Onion

Our Pulaar professor, Mussa Tall

Language learning is like an onion. You pull back comprehension of the first layer to find another layer underneath that is even more complicated, and so on. With each layer there is the hope that better understanding will follow, but there always seems to be yet another layer. I could make reference to onions, tears, and language learning as well, but I won't go that far.

My husband and I had our first Pulaar lesson this morning. Our professor has such a sweet and patient spirit about him that we were immediately put at ease. As the notes went flying past us on our little white board situated in our living room, my brain tried to process and store the information. Information is best stored and remembered when there is a previous "knowledge folder", so the information can be filed and attached to something we already know. To be fair, most of what we learned today was a review for me because I have studied Pulaar before. Even though those "knowledge folders" exist, it was just as bizarre the second time around.

African language learning is a challenge. I remember being so petrified the first time I was put on the spot in Wolof class, hoping I would understand the questions being thrown at me. Seventeen years later, our Pulaar class was a strange mix of the use of French, Wolof, and English languages blending together. Our professor compared the French alphabet sounds with Pulaar and gave Wolof and English definitions of Pulaar words in hopes of making the concepts clear. I couldn't help but think of how far we have come in language learning, and thanking God for His
grace in granting us the opportunity.

They say that learning language is good food for your brain. As far as I'm concerned, the jury is still out on that because my brain just feels like mush.

Till next time......

The Puzzle of Learning African Languages

West Africa is a diverse hunk of real-estate that is roughly the size of the United States and divided into 15 countries. There are literally hundreds of people groups, each with their own unique culture and language to match. All of these people fit together like a giant puzzle that make up this region of Africa. Seventeen years ago my husband and I landed in Senegal, which is the furthest puzzle piece west on the African continent. Two things were immediately apparent to me as I entered this new world thousands of miles from my Nebraska home. First, my view of the world was about to expand by leaps and bounds. Second, I would have to become like a child again in order to learn how to connect and communicate with the Senegalese people.

With that I began the long journey of language learning. My husband and I dipped our language learning toes into the French pool. French is the official language of Senegal as well as many other West African countries, so it was an important first step in fitting into the Senegalese culture. After 9 months of classroom instruction in French we transitioned into learning Wolof. Wolof is an African language that is widely used throughout Senegal. I also started teaching English as a Second Language, so my life seemed to revolve around languages. The daily struggle of trying to communicate eventually lessened and the reward was insight and strong friendships that have lasted over many years.

Now we are faced with a move into a new area of Senegal. Along with a new culture comes yet another language and thus the reason for this blog. In the up coming weeks we will be learning the African language of Pulaar. Hopefully, I've learned something about language learning over the years, but one thing is for sure, it is an adventure. From the classroom to the village, there is never a dull moment when you force yourself out of your comfort zone. I have to stress that language learning for the "average joe" is a life long process because you can never learn all there is to know. Furthermore, language and culture learning go hand in hand, and one of the best ways to learn culture is to learn the local language.

So here I go back into the churning waters of African language learning.