Language Learning and the Incarnation

Malians have a very delightful expression of extreme surprise that goes something like this:

EEEEE

                    EEH!!!

           eueu

where the relative height represents the pitch.

I was back in Mali for the month of November and was minding my business checking out at the SHOPREATE grocery store when one of the workers walked up and let out this incredible EEEE-EUEU-EEEH that was so loud that it kind of embarrassed him and he quickly found somewhere else to be.

What was it that flabbergasted him so? Well, several workers at SHOPREATE including the main cashier are speakers X, the language I started learning back in the late 1990s. And so I usually greet them in X while I am checking out. Now, it’s been 14 years since I was in an X context but I still can just barely get by with the greetings, before I am reduced to speaking Bambara or French.

So there I am chatting away in X, when up walks this worker to ask where to put the cans of powdered milk or something, and he hears this white guy talking in S. And he emits the mother of all EEEE-EUEU-EEEH’s, because this shatters everything he knows to be true about the world.

Why? Well, it is best explained in this piece that is adapted from my newsletter in the summer of 1997 when I was 5 months into learning the X language. (see Tillinghast Times vol 7 num 2, June/July 1997)

 “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1:14)

The incarnation – it’s about God identifying with us, showing us that we mean so much to Him that He was willing to make himself nothing, “taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness.” (Phil 2:7)

What does this have to do with language learning? I’ll try to explain. Every time I go out in town and talk to people in Bambara, the trade language, I am greeted with beaming smiles, astonished looks, joyous laughter and cries to neighboring vendors to come see the Toubab (white guy) who speaks Bambara.

Why the fuss? An Arab in the US who speaks English doesn’t surprise us. A Vietnamese in Paris who speaks French is not give a second glance. The difference is that French and English are languages of socio-economic power. People learn them to get ahead. In a perfect world, all languages would be equal, but history and commerce have left some languages at the top of a linguistic ladder and others further down.

Most of the world’s minority languages are near the bottom of the ladder. Even though X is one of 13 official languages in Mali, an X speaker who wants to sell vegetables in the market in town needs to learn Bambara, the trade language. If this same X wants to open a store or get an education, he needs to learn French. If he wants to study abroad or get involved in international politics or commerce, he might need to learn English as well. The world gives little or no importance to his language.

Those situated nearer the top of the linguistic ladder have little reason in learning a language further down, especially since speakers of that language want to learn their language. During colonial times here in Mali, the French felt no need to learn national languages. Most foreigners in Mali today use French and don’t think it necessary to learn Bambara or X. Very few are motivated to make the effort to learn vernacular languages.

And we who are lucky enough to speak English, well, we travel the world and expect to be able to find people everywhere we go who can speak our language, without us needing to do learn theirs.

And that is why people in the market are so delighted and bemused when I address them in their language. I have made an effort to come down the linguistic ladder. Why would I do such a thing? There is no advantage for me (except for slightly cheaper vegetables). It must be because I am interested in them and their culture. I want to identify with them.  

After 18 years in Mali, I never really got far in X. I did make more progress in Bambara though I was never fluent. But still, I could carry on a decent conversation. It was not uncommon for Malians to say to me “I be bamanakan men dɛ. I kɛra malien.” (You really understand Bambara. You’ve become a Malian).

Learning X or any other language means humbling oneself in a very real way. You have to become like a child, be willing to say really stupid things (unintentionally), and submit yourself to a huge amount of ambiguity as you exist in a world you do not understand. You willingly sacrifice power and control for a situation where you are utterly helpless and dependent on the kindness of others. How very much like the Christ-child at Christmas.

Learning a minority language is a choice to step down the linguistic ladder into areas that serve not yourself but others. That’s what Christ did – he came down a ladder of infinitely larger degrees, to become like us, to understand us, to reach us. Each of us, in turn, is called to dwell among those around us, to meet them where they are - on their terms - and to flesh out the Word for them.

Watermelons and Orange - what is the link?

Do you ever listen to a sermon where the pastor explains some sort of cultural background information that the the people of the time would have known and it totally changes the meaning of the text? And then you wonder to yourself if the link really have been THAT obvious to people in that culture or not."

I can think of many examples I've heard in sermons. Recently I heard a sermon on the Golden Calf and Moses coming down the mountain and breaking the tablets. The pastor explained that covenants and legally binding agreements were often written on clay tablets. Breaking them would signify breaking the contract and so this signified more than just Moses getting overly angry.

Or how about references to yeast, where yeast is supposed to represent sin? The link is not evident to me.
Still, I know intuitively that there are evocative phrases that if used today will automatically bring along a whole set of background information and images: You can't say "I have a dream," without evoking Martin Luther King, Jr. to your listeners. Drop a song lyric into a speech or blogpost and people will get the reference.

On a recent trip back to Mali, I encountered one of these instances where an image automatically conveyed something to the Malians that was not clear at all to the Westerners present. 

One of the cell phone companies in Mali is "Orange" - a french company and present across much of Africa. I had for several years now seen there ads that included a picture of a watermelon.

 I knew that it had to do with buying cards to recharge the credit on your phone. The text read "For Sale here, "Nafama" phone credit". "Nafama" means useful or advantageous.

But I still had not clue WHY the watermelon was used as the symbol for this. So I asked at coffee break one day and all my Malian colleagues told me that it was because with watermelon, you buy slices of it - as much as you want and no more. You don't have to buy the whole watermelon. They were all quite clear on this being the reason for the advertising without any disagreement.

Now, I had seen watermelons for sale in the market for years. You can buy entire ones, but there are also vendors who slice up watermelons and sell you just a slice to eat right there. I had even sampled these on occasion, making sure to get one underneath the plastic so flies could not land on it.

I had seen the signs like the one below indicating that you could recharge your phone account according to your needs - from 100F CFA (20 cents), to 500 F CFA ($1), all the way on up to 5000 and even 100,000 f CFA ($200).

 

Several years ago, I even took this picture while out cycling near Bamako. I found the image of the watermelon with different prices marked to be rather ludicrous. Now I wonder if the vendor was really selling "zèrè" (watermelon) or possible selling phone credit. You can even see a smaller "orange/watermlon" ad stuck to the door.

It took me a while to digest the "watermelon" metaphor. Why not just use an ORANGE, which is after all the name of the company, and happens to break down into nice slices?
Upon reflection there are two reasons:

1. An orange is small and you never buy just part of one, even if you can break it down. 
2. Oranges in Mali do not peel easily and so are rarely broken down into sections, but rather eaten by cutting off a bit of the top and sucking out the juice. 

And a watermelon is really the ONLY fruit that is big enough where you might need less than one. Certainly it is the only one that is every cut up and sold in pieces. Watermelon can also be shared easily with others. I'm not sure if that comes into play with the phone credit, as it is something that can be transferred to others and shared.

So there you have it. An image that was clear as day to Malians in their context and obtuse to me, even someone who had lived there for 18 years and had eaten watermelon slices on many occasions, and bought various amounts of phone credit through the years according to my needs. 

This is something that translators call "implied information" and is the sort of thing that often needs to be made explicit when translating if what was implicit to the original hearers is not at all obvious to the target audience.