It is not unusual for a human to be
multi-lingual. Many grow up surrounded by two or more languages
within their household or community. Despite being illiterate, most
the men I knew while in Peace Corps Mali could speak two or three
languages. Here in Morocco most the population has studied French
since elementary school and can't help but speak it well. Humans
speak second or third languages almost by accident, as their language
abilities are generally just products of their habits and
environments. They do not go out of their way to learn a new
language. They are not scholars or geniuses. It's almost like it
should be natural for humans to be multi-lingual.
For the sake of survival, Peace Corps
volunteers intensely study and are immersed into the local language.
Unlike studying a language in America, there is no escape from the
exotic sounds, words, and phrases. Sleeping is the only escape, and
even then I dream about verbs. It's sink or swim. Lots of
volunteers swim (or at least tread water), and results are amazing.
Most volunteers I've met learn local languages and can speak them
confidently and effectively. By local languages I do not mean French
or Spanish, I am talking about languages most people have never heard
of (Bambara, Do-nosso, Fufulde, and Tomokan just to name some that
were taught in Mali).
In Morocco all volunteers are taught
Darija, or Moroccan Arabic. Standard Arabic is not spoken across the
Arab world. Like Latin, the original tongue has morphed over time
and space and today different dialects of Arabic are as different as
Portuguese is to Italian. Moroccans and Saudis would struggle to
converse with each other and with other Arab speakers. Darija has
evolved its own unique sounds, words and grammar. It has also been
injected with sounds and words from Western Europe and from the
original Berber settlers. Though it is considered a 'dialect' of
Arabic, perhaps it should be thought of as its own language within
the Arabic family.
Learning a language is a strange
process. More than any other skill, it is all about practice. The
theory helps, but it can also be incredibly distracting. Do I
memorize verbs? Or memorize phrases? Maybe I should let the sounds
wash over me and the language will sink in. Or I could listen
attentively and pick out the words I understand. Should I try to use
the phrases I've learned or will I sound like an idiot? Is it
alright to engage with someone for the sake of practicing even if I
don't really care where the taxi driver is from? I probably should
not worry too much about it because it's too exhausting. But then I
won't learn it!
Beneath the frustrations are miracles
that make the struggle worth it. It's astounding when my efforts are
understood. The noises come from my lips but they do not belong to
me. I am borrowing sounds that do not register in my brain, but ring
clear for the listener. How can the performance be more meaningful
to the audience than the entertainer? Like a spell, the sounds I
mutter are non-sense that feel like magic when understood.
It is practically impossible to measure
improvement. There are moments where I swear I have forgotten every
single word, and can't form the simplest syllables. There are
moments where a flurry of sounds coming from the TV make perfect
sense. When I feel confident and in control of a conversation I
begin to think that I'm a sort of linguistics master. But then the
next morning I forget how to say 'good morning.' I am constantly
being tested, and since I am hardly ever prepared I am getting good
at failing.
I should be able to express myself more
and more every week. Maybe I will even be fluent eventually. But
what does it mean to be fluent? I don't think I am even fluent in
English. There's lots of stuff going on in English that I don't
understand or can't express. This post is a perfect example of how
bad I am at English. I swear half these sentences I write are bad
English. Someone asked me to translate lyrics to a rap song once,
and I couldn't do it. I could tell it was in English, but I had no
idea what the rapper was trying to say. Shouldn't someone who is
fluent at a language be able to translate the words of a song? So I
guess fluency does not mean perfection, because of course I am fluent
in English. Maybe it doesn't require that much to be considered
fluent. I will be able to communicate effectively in Darija, and I
suppose my words will 'flow,' and so that would mean that my words
are 'fluent.' So yea, sure, I'll be fluent in 6 months or a year or
something. Or not, depending on how you define fluency.
Really, what I am doing is inventing my
own system of communication based on Darija. Word choice varies
greatly from person to person. Within the same language, what one
person speaks is not the same as what another speaks. Words define
backgrounds and personalities, and even in English there are so many
words I do not use because I have never practiced using them and it
doesn't feel like me if I were to use them. In Morocco I need to
memorize a bunch of words that are Darija in order to survive, and I
also need to create a Darija personality. I can't rely on my
American words to show who I am. My personality is now reflected
through new sounds and actions, that can't reveal more complex facets
of my personality. I need to discover how to say which words in
order to generate the right emotions. How does an American in
Morocco make friends laugh? Or demonstrate sympathy? How do I show
that I am sad? Or happy? Or serious? Or need help? Or want to be
left alone? It will take more than memorizing certain phrases to do
this.
Actions speak louder than words,
especially when you can't use words. Language is a tool that
attempts to express the wide range of human attitudes and emotions.
But it is not always effective and sometimes it even distorts
understanding. In English I can disguise my true feelings and
desires with words. In Morocco I can't bullshit. I must represent
myself without words by using non-verbal communication like laughter,
touching, shaking hands, playing and all sorts of other behaviors
that haven't even occurred to me yet. Even subtle facial expressions
say a lot. These simple behaviors can carry more weight than I would
expect, and even without using language, family and friends have a
good idea of my basic personality. In the future, more Darija skills
will help develop deeper understanding with certain people, but also
allow for distortion and manipulation. Language makes life
complicated sometimes.
