Lost in Amharic

Am-har-ic (Am like palm - har like car - ic like trick)

We just finished our first full week of teaching at Fasiledes. The students seemed very excited to have us at their school. We are focusing our lessons on English speaking, pronunciation, and listening. We noticed that the students have a hard time with certain English sounds that are not found in Amharic. For example, it’s very difficult for them to say words with the “th” sound.  They often mispronounce “th” by making a “t” or “s” or even “f” sound. In the case of “the,” they say “ze.”

We have them stick out their tongues and exaggerate the “th” sound. The class usually giggles, humors us, and does it correctly once or twice before reverting back. I can’t blame them. I distinctly remember having to practice the rolling “rr” in Spanish class and thinking, “I can hear the difference between ‘r’ and ‘rr.’ I just can’t make the right sound. I just can’t wrap my tongue around it.” Interestingly, Ethiopians can roll their r’s very well! Listening to my students say “t” instead of “th,” I now realize there is a huge difference in seemingly subtle enunciations to a native speaker.

School entrance

One of our 9th grade English classes

This had me thinking about my Amharic, which is still in a very very primitive state. I’ve been here for almost a month, and I know tennish Amharic (a little Amharic). Last week I was in a tiny supermarket. I said a very simple phrase to the shopkeeper, and another customer asked me in English if I spoke Amharic. I looked up, and he was a little, old Ethiopian man in a suit. I told him, “Tennish” and smiled. He continued in English, “You speak Arabic?” I was a little surprised. I told him that I did not speak Arabic. He tried again, “Italian?” Wrong but getting warmer. “No, but I took Latin in high school. I speak Spanish.”  He seemed puzzled. As he shuffled out the door, he kept murmuring “Spanish.”

I think my Spanish might be improving. Every time I go to speak to a native Ethiopian, I hear myself starting to translate my thoughts from English to Spanish. When I am at rural schools speaking with young children, I begin to say, “¿Cuantos años tienes?” rather than “Edmeh sent no?” When I am at a restaurant, I begin to say, “Café sin azúcar por favor” rather than “Bunna yale sukar ebakeh.”  I think my brain registers that I am in a foreign country and then automatically defaults to the one foreign language I know, Spanish. Imagine if I came back a polyglot. Doubtful.

It’s odd – the one thing that I take home from all of my travels abroad (aside from lots of photographs, memories, and souvenirs) is “thank you.” Often when we visit a foreign country and cannot speak the language, we assume that our poorly written phrasebook and natives’ limited English vocabulary will be enough to help us get by if necessary. But then we get to this foreign fairytale and realize our assumptions may not hold. Our voices crescendo as we slowly repeat our sentence or query in English. Again and again. If this fails, we start making wild hand gesticulations in hopes that these will break the language barrier. Much is lost in translation, but “thank you” is pure in any language. Even if you butcher the pronunciation, locals appreciate a “thank you” in their native tongue.

Gracias • Efcharisto • Spasiba • Obregada • Tesekkurler • Toda • Danke • Ameuseugenallo