After almost 70 hours of lessons in Mam with a friend here in site, I'm going to relate the diagnosis that learning a Mayan language is not that easy. First, you have the issue of distinguishing the sounds: k', k, ky', ky, q', q, j all tend to lend themselves to beautiful confusion. Was that kyaq' (caliente/rojo)? Or wait, was it ky'aq (flea)? Or wait, maybe it was kya'j (cielo)? The incredible thing being that native speakers don't just divine the meaning based on context (as in the English where/wear), they really differentiate the pronunciation of sounds that to my ear sound almost identical. Don't even get me started on tx' and ch', nor their cousins ch, tx, x, and x with dieresis...
Then there is the issuing of producing the sounds. Oh man, is that something else entirely. I'm getting better, although without constant practice I slip back and forget the difference between sounds. There's no better way to test how I'm doing than to try to speak with the kids in the family, especially 3-year-old Rene, who doesn't speak much Spanish (see the post "Que es eso?") Tonight the two of us were hanging out in the kitchen together sharing the dinner I'd made. Somehow we always manage to communicate via our rudimentary modified Spanish, but I decided to throw a little Mam in the mix and ask for the name of things around the kitchen. My efforts sort of failed, with good reason (I realized later I was asking him "What's your name?" rather than "What do you call this?"), but my efforts did inspire Renecito to start giving me random words to try to pronounce. He found this game HIGHLY entertaining and his mom told me that he later reported to her (in Mam of course) how wonderful it was that I pronounced the word for "dish" with "j" instead of "q". What kind of idiot do we have living with us, anyway, Mom?
Finally I finished the conversation by saying, "Ma chin wane" (I just ate), to which Renecito responded in an exasperated tone, "Nqowane" (We're eating!) Pretty funny. And awesome to understand a word, to have insight into what Renecito is thinking, in his own language!
So, progress is definitely slow, since I am often way too lazy and tired from my primary "work" to study as much as I could, but I get encouragement in every smile and even every scoff when I offer up to people in a tienda "chjonte" (thanks), or to those I pass on the street, "wiya" (bye) or "chab'aya" or "chab'aqeye" (little by little, roughly like "take it easy"), or "mmm" to the ancianitos (a greeting of respect).
Whether people seem to react positively or not, I think even minuscule efforts to speak Mam do make a difference to people. The point really hit home for me with the thunderous round of applause I got after giving a talk on indigenous rights and mining to a group of young leaders, closing with "chjonte tun amb'il y chjonte tun nak'b'il" (thanks for the time and thanks for your attention). Such moments make me feel great and really encourage me to work to be able to speak and understand the basics.
Then there is the fact that I am learning this language through Spanish. Did I dream myself capable of this a year ago? Not really, to be honest. But that is one of the truly cool things about Peace Corps, the chance to break those limits you thought you had, chab'aku (little by little).
Showing posts with label renecito. Show all posts
Showing posts with label renecito. Show all posts
Friday, August 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Qué es eso?
One of the greatest joys of this experience to date, and thus the reason I’ve chosen him as the lead off portrait, has been the just-turned-3-year-old son of my host family. (Also seemed appropriate, since today is his birthday!) Named for his father, little Rene (aka Renecito aka El Chiquito) is a constant ball of energy, either:
-flashing his famous Casanova-in-training smile
-talking a mile-a-minute in a confusing mixture of Mam, Spanish, and gibberish
-doing something you would really prefer he not, such as dumping raw noodles over the table; squeezing raw eggs with his hands; or turning on and off the oven light repeatedly
-screaming and crying his brains out over some injust infraction against him (of which there are routinely many, as life is inherently unfair when you are 3 feet tall and have several older cousins and sisters).
His energy and ability to bother (or molestar; as his mother likes to remark of him, ¨molesta mucho¨) were written right out of the book of my twin brother Seth, and I think that is one of the reasons this young fellow captures me as he does. I have to acknowledge that I am free to be so enthralled because I now have the upper body strength and height to defend myself, and thus can admire the vitality from a more detached and less terrorized vantage point.
A significant background note to the development of my relationship with Renecito is the local language. Almost everyone here speaks Mam as their first language, and Spanish as a second. Although more people are beginning to raise their children with Spanish, or both Mam and Spanish, a significant number still raise their children speaking only Mam at home, so that many kids still do not pick up Spanish until grade school. Such is the case with young Rene, whose family has raised their kids speaking Mam with the intention that they take pride in the language.
Even so, the young gentleman has not let a minor thing like us not speaking a word in common stand in the way of our budding romance. When I first arrived, he tried vainly for awhile to address me in Mam, before realizing that I was somehow broken and that he himself would be forced to facilitate our communication.
From the first moment on the first day that I dumbly and ignorantly petitioned his intelligent 2-almost-3-year-old brain, ¨Como estás?¨, so began his rapid progression in the Spanish language. As of this moment, we have developed approximately seven conversations in four weeks:
(1) ¨Hooolaaa.¨ ¨Hola.¨ (variation: ¨Hola.¨ ¨¨Hooolaaa.¨)
(2) ¨Cómo estas?¨ [huge smile] ¨Bien, y tú, como estás?¨ ¨Bieeeen.¨ [huge smile]
Variation: ¨Cómo estás?¨ ¨Como estás?¨ ¨Bien¨ ¨Bien.¨
(3) ¨Cuidado, Renecito.¨ ¨Cuidaaaado. [insert riotous laughter]¨
(4) ¨Qué es eso? [insert potential name of object, for example, water] agua-sí?¨ ¨Sí.¨ (…sometimes this exchange occurs a dozen times with the same object before he gets tired of it.)
(¨What’s that? Water-yes?¨ or ¨What’s that? Mango-yes?¨ or ¨What’s that? Fork-yes?¨)
(5) ¨Vaya a cocinar, sí?¨ (¨You go cook, yes?¨) Or, a new favorite variation… ¨Vamos a jugar, si? No vaya a cocinar, si?¨
(6) And, another favorite: ¨Qué es eso?¨ [referring to coffee mug] ¨Taza.¨ ¨Nooo … vaso!¨ (¨What’s that?¨ ¨Cup.¨ ¨No, glass.¨ Also, ¨Zapato.¨ ¨Noo... chancleta.¨ is a recent adaptation.)
(7) And, when my food looks particularly good: ¨Dáme un poco de esto.¨
I have to admit I am a little bit flattered by his constant petitions for definitions, but the irony of course is that he clearly thinks that I am the household authority on Spanish. Nevertheless we have a lot of fun, and I’m looking forward to watching him grow in the next few months.
-flashing his famous Casanova-in-training smile
-talking a mile-a-minute in a confusing mixture of Mam, Spanish, and gibberish
-doing something you would really prefer he not, such as dumping raw noodles over the table; squeezing raw eggs with his hands; or turning on and off the oven light repeatedly
-screaming and crying his brains out over some injust infraction against him (of which there are routinely many, as life is inherently unfair when you are 3 feet tall and have several older cousins and sisters).
His energy and ability to bother (or molestar; as his mother likes to remark of him, ¨molesta mucho¨) were written right out of the book of my twin brother Seth, and I think that is one of the reasons this young fellow captures me as he does. I have to acknowledge that I am free to be so enthralled because I now have the upper body strength and height to defend myself, and thus can admire the vitality from a more detached and less terrorized vantage point.
A significant background note to the development of my relationship with Renecito is the local language. Almost everyone here speaks Mam as their first language, and Spanish as a second. Although more people are beginning to raise their children with Spanish, or both Mam and Spanish, a significant number still raise their children speaking only Mam at home, so that many kids still do not pick up Spanish until grade school. Such is the case with young Rene, whose family has raised their kids speaking Mam with the intention that they take pride in the language.
Even so, the young gentleman has not let a minor thing like us not speaking a word in common stand in the way of our budding romance. When I first arrived, he tried vainly for awhile to address me in Mam, before realizing that I was somehow broken and that he himself would be forced to facilitate our communication.
From the first moment on the first day that I dumbly and ignorantly petitioned his intelligent 2-almost-3-year-old brain, ¨Como estás?¨, so began his rapid progression in the Spanish language. As of this moment, we have developed approximately seven conversations in four weeks:
(1) ¨Hooolaaa.¨ ¨Hola.¨ (variation: ¨Hola.¨ ¨¨Hooolaaa.¨)
(2) ¨Cómo estas?¨ [huge smile] ¨Bien, y tú, como estás?¨ ¨Bieeeen.¨ [huge smile]
Variation: ¨Cómo estás?¨ ¨Como estás?¨ ¨Bien¨ ¨Bien.¨
(3) ¨Cuidado, Renecito.¨ ¨Cuidaaaado. [insert riotous laughter]¨
(4) ¨Qué es eso? [insert potential name of object, for example, water] agua-sí?¨ ¨Sí.¨ (…sometimes this exchange occurs a dozen times with the same object before he gets tired of it.)
(¨What’s that? Water-yes?¨ or ¨What’s that? Mango-yes?¨ or ¨What’s that? Fork-yes?¨)
(5) ¨Vaya a cocinar, sí?¨ (¨You go cook, yes?¨) Or, a new favorite variation… ¨Vamos a jugar, si? No vaya a cocinar, si?¨
(6) And, another favorite: ¨Qué es eso?¨ [referring to coffee mug] ¨Taza.¨ ¨Nooo … vaso!¨ (¨What’s that?¨ ¨Cup.¨ ¨No, glass.¨ Also, ¨Zapato.¨ ¨Noo... chancleta.¨ is a recent adaptation.)
(7) And, when my food looks particularly good: ¨Dáme un poco de esto.¨
I have to admit I am a little bit flattered by his constant petitions for definitions, but the irony of course is that he clearly thinks that I am the household authority on Spanish. Nevertheless we have a lot of fun, and I’m looking forward to watching him grow in the next few months.
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