Learning a Foreign Local Language
Last weekend, I attended a party. What?! I still do attend those! So in this party, let’s just say there were quite a number of inter-marriages between the tribes. That’s what I love about Kenya by the way. So long as two people are in love, talk all you want about ethnic backgrounds. They will go ahead and marry. Maybe that is an indication that we are more united than some of our rogue leaders would care to admit.
Anywho, in this party, I managed to hook up with some really awesome people who are not from my tribe. And seeing as I was the only one of my tribe at that particular table, they decided that it was time I got schooled in their tongue. Me, I love challenges. They are the fires that drive me. As I’m sure it is for most of us. So I sat down to get taught. The foreign local language.
Eh! Yawa. Dholuo lessons will be the end of me! Nang’o with 3 meanings depending on intonation. Tho!
— carolkmail (@carolkmail) June 30, 2012
There is this old saying. About old dogs and new tricks. I think it applies to new languages as well. Now, now…, I’m not admitting that I’m old, but I am well seasoned. My brain is sort of set in it’s ways. Near rigid even. It takes time to grasp new complex concepts and believe me, the new tongue was beginning to frustrate the life out of me!
I think this lot was also enjoying seeing me frustrated. I assume that was what the giggling and some language rap between sessions was about. I wasn’t quiting though. And I still am not. If only to show this lot that I am teachable. And to prove to myself that I am not thaaaaat old, neither has my brain set. So I’m hunting down the said lot this weekend for another session of brain smash, aka language teachery. I shall ignore their sadistic laughs and ways. I shall learn.
Wish me luck.