While the phonetics may be different, the messages are the same. For instance: even before coming to Uganda I wanted to learn some regional languages, so I asked how to say, Hello
in Swahili. I was surprised to find out that one does not say, Hello
, ever: one says, How are you?
. And of course, the response is, I am fine
. As far as I know, there is no direct translation of Hello
to Swahili or any of the local languages. (I have asked many people.)
It gets better. One greets with, How are you?
. One responds with something along the lines of, I am fine; how are you?
. Or, how has your day been?
. Or, how is this afternoon for you?
. Or, how was last night?
. One responds with a similar question. This game of social tag can have several rounds. It is common in all languages I have encountered in Uganda. (I say langauges and not social groups, because the languages are so local that it amounts to the same thing.)
All of these phrases are spelled and pronounced completely differently. And speaking of spelling, there's even a new letter: How are you?
in Acholi is, Kopaŋo
. Yes, that's right: ŋ. (Incidentally, Acholi is the only language in which I've managed to pull off a whopping two rounds of back-and-forth questions, and even there my success rate has been low.) There are many vastly different phrases to learn. People keep throwing in different questions! As a Muganda would say, Elio Ddalu!
(my phrase of the day: That is madness!
).
When walking down the street in Butagota (southwest), I simply gave up. I'd say how are you?
, and either the response was a plain I am fine
; or the response was something I didn't understand: I smiled and shrugged and kept on walking. I got a few laughs with my animated shrug and my facial expression of utter confusion.
So, these similarities between languages must manifest themselves in English, right? Certainly. Let me preface this section by pointing out that while most people I've talked with can speak fluent English, it is nobody's mother tongue. Courses start being taught in English in the fourth or fifth year of primary school; before that, local tribal languages are used. Also, within the home English is a rarity.
First of all, with all Ugandans I've met (who have not travelled outside of Africa), there is no short I
sound. For instance, kit
is pronounced, keet
. The uh
vowel sound is hit-and-miss, too; I introduce myself as Adaam
to avoid confusion.
Also right at the top of the list are ejaculations of Ei!
, Eiiii
, Mmmm
, M!
, Mm-hmm
, E!
, and others. I've mastered the thoughtful/attentive mmm
, and I'm working on the rest.
Children will always yell, Mzungu how are you?
, I presume because how are you?
is the the first English phrase they are taught. With adults, who actually want to carry a conversation, the following interchange has occured with me on several occasions:
- (random passerby): How are you?
- (me): I'm fine. How are you?
- (them): I'm fine. How are you?
- (me): I'm fine.
- (them): How are you?
It gets better. Should anything unfortunate happen to anybody, an Ugandan will look at the victim with compassion and intone, Sorry
. Everybody says it with almost exactly the same accent and inflection, no matter what the gravity of the incident. (You'll get the exact same response to I stubbed my toe yesterday
and I've just been diagnosed with cancer
.)
My favourite phenomenon: what is referred to (by some) as the what-bomb
. When being given an explanation, a what?
is just laid in just the right position in a sentence, for maximum effect. For instance: I'll take a pen and write in the what? in the book.
Or, I need to go to what? to Old Taxi Park.
The what-bomb is so named because if you're in a giddy mood it can explode, causing irrepressible laughter which the bomb's maker won't understand. (Perhaps even leading the person to ask, what?
, further compounding the hilarity.) In the event of any laughing spasms (clutching one's stomach, doubling over, etc) in such a scenario, one is diagnosed as having being struck by a piece of what-bomb shrapnel.
Most people drop what-bombs everywhere. Some, however, drop implicit what-bombs. For example: I am writing on my--...? blog.
It's as if the whole sentence is running to get somewhere, and it falls flat on its face just before reaching the end. Perhaps the what-bomb detonated early and left a hole in the path of reasoning.
I didn't even notice the what-bomb for my first two weeks in Uganda. But once I did, I realized that it's everywhere. And it never gets old. I'm striving to adopt the habit, with mediocre success. (For instance, a couple of weeks ago I covertly laid such a bomb while arranging my what? my mosquito net, and the mzungu who was with me at the time didn't notice.)
Fun Fact: There are estimated to be between 11 and 99 different tribes in Uganda. That makes for a lot of languages! (In a future post, I'll address the validity of this statistic.)