Learning a New Language Is Tricky, Tricky

Mwaiyai mwane! In the local lan­guage of Kaonde that means, “Wel­come!”

Unlike English, I’ve not had 27 years of attempted master­ing of this language, so you’ll understand if I admit to being a novice, although fumbling is more like it, in regards to my communication abilities.

Kaonde is a small language as far as languages go — only about 250,000 people speak it as their mother tongue —and al­though it is one of Zambia’s main recognized languages, it’s just one of 73 languages spoken in the country.
Deriving from the Bantu family of languages (like Swahi­li), it is constructed in a com­pletely different manner than English. For instance, to say, “I am home” is “Nji pa nzubo.” Where “N” is the subject prefix, “ji” is the verb stem, “pa” is the locator, and “nzubo” is home. It’s all very difficult to say the least.

However, the construction isn’t the hardest part for me — it’s the memorization of words and how they’re used. The Eng­lish language, according to Ox­ford English Dictionary, has more than 615,000 words, of which some 200,000 are in com­mon use. That means we have lots of words to describe things, nearly perfectly. And if we want to spice it up then there are al­ways synonyms.

My issue with Kaonde is that one word describes so much, so context is hugely important.

For example, the word “ki­chi” means tree, branch, stick and limb. Although they’re all similar, they’re also very differ­ent. It’s possible that in asking for a stick, someone could bring you a large branch, or even a log.

Then there is the word “ku­nya,” which means to defecate. It’s one slight n-sound away from “kuya,” which means to go. That’s a mistake you don’t want to make in passing conver­sation.

All this leads me to some­thing important that I’ve learned while here in the Peace Corps – that I’m really glad I’m an English speaker because English seems depressingly hard to figure out, let alone mas­ter.

If I think Kaonde is hard be­cause of its simplicity and lack of words, then English is ex­ceedingly more difficult be­cause of its complexity and vastness of vocabulary.

This realization of how diffi­cult my own language is has giv­en me infinite respect for the Zambians that I live and work with. It’s common to find some­one who is fluent in three or four languages with an additional understanding of another three or four. And there are some that know in excess of10 total. I can’t even imagine.

I’ve been in many meetings where I count three or more lan­guages being interchanged throughout the discussion, without any delay. The human brain’s recognition capability is amazing.

At times my language skills don’t bother me as much as maybe they should because I use my inability to communi­cate as a defense. For instance, if someone asks me to do some­thing that I have no desire to do (like kill a goat), then I just pre­tend I don’t know what’s being asked.

Other times I really wish I could give as thorough an an­swer as I’d like. For example, I’ve tried numerous times to ex­plain constellations in the night sky to people in the local lan­guage and fall far short.

It’s one thing I look forward to about my return to the United States: lots of English speakers. I’ll be able to let jokes and pop culture references fly.

However, when I do manage to crack a joke in my broken Kaonde it gets a far better re­sponse than anything I could say back home. That’s because the locals appreciate my efforts far more than I do.

Last night I told my village’s headman, in English, “You know I could live here five more years and never get the hang of Kaonde.”

And in Kaonde he responded, “Mugeseka.” At least you try.