Friday, November 19, 2010
PASHTO MISERY
My Pashto language school is now half over with only two months to go. To add to the retention difficulty, we have thrown in a week off around Thanksgiving and two weeks at Christmas. It will be interesting when we come back from these breaks to see just how much we have been able to retain. Of course everyone has a plan to study during the break. My plan goes something like this, tomorrow I will say to my self "Self, we still have nine more days where we can study...take the day off." Then on Sunday I will say "We still have eight more days where we can study, plenty of time, take the day off." This pattern will continue until a week from Sunday as I am sitting on the couch watching Sunday Night Football and then, and only then, will I realize that I have forgotten every bit of Pashto I ever knew and class begins anew the next morning. Alright, hopefully it won't go like that, but I wouldn't be surprised.
Our instructors are truly an interesting and unique group. All are from Afghanistan and all of them have amazing life stories to tell. Between the Soviet invasion, Taliban rule and the current war, life for them has been a struggle. All of the instructors are well educated, and they all had professions in Afghanistan, including doctors, engineers and politicians. But for various reasons they were forced or chose to start a new life in the United States. Many were forced because they had worked for the American military and it had become unsafe for them and their family. So now they are here, teaching Pashto to a bunch of knucklehead soldiers, Sailors, airmen and Marines. I feel sorry for them because it is one thing to be a kindergarten teacher but it is another thing when all of the kindergartners are in their thirties and forties. The poor guys have to sit there and teach the equivalent of ABCs and listen to excruciatingly painful conversations in their native language. Of course they are also teaching a language that was never standardized, so the vocabulary and grammar sort of shift and bend, swaying back and forth like stalks of wheat on a windy day (alright that was pretty bad but you get the picture). We have learned it is futile to ask "Why." Every time, and I mean absolutely every time, someone asks a question about Pashto and why something is the way it is, they will inevitably start talking about English and all the weird things about English "Why is the verb "to go" go, going, gone, went? Where did the "went" come from, it doesn't look anything like go! And what about these apostrophes and contractions...how do you explain that?" Of course it is futile to try and explain that, we aren't...excuse me...we are not attacking their language we are just trying to understand the rules and if there is a reason for it or a history behind it perhaps it would help us to learn more effectively. It just doesn't...sorry...does not work. I found the perfect word in the Pashto Dictionary as I was browsing through it one day (yes that is what I am reduced to, reading Pashto Dictionaries). The word is "salabala" and it means "for no rhyme or reason." It is my favorite word in any language. Of course, as luck would have it none of the instructors knew what the word was so it is an obscure, unused word. Why? Salabala. One of the instructors did say if you separate it into two words it could mean "cold goat" which could also come in handy one day. The most disturbing thing I found in the dictionary is that apparently they have a verb "To bathe in blood." The instructor said that was a mistake and there is no such verb but...it is there nonetheless. Now, the word for sky is "aasman" (which brings to mind a memorable Seinfeld episode) the color green is "sheen" and blue is "aabee." But what color is the aasman? Why, it is sheen of course. But, I thought the sky was blue. Well, it is, and when they say sheen aasman then sheen means blue, but only in that instance...the rest of the time it means green......huh? But why do you not use aabee? Why does the English word "knife" start with a 'k'? Salabala. My favorite conversation with an instructor was a battle that went on for over two days. We were talking about medical terms and the word "doctor," which in Pashto is "daktar." The instructor just wanted to confirm with us that female doctors in the United States are called "doctoresses." We all corrected him by letting him know that no, female doctors are not called doctoresses, they are called doctors. But he was adamant about it. "No, I am sure, that is what they taught me in English class." We debated back and forth for a few more minutes and then went back to the lesson. The next day he came back to the class triumphant that he had proven us wrong. "I looked it up on the internet...the definition is there...in Wikipedia." He also asked us what we call a female lion. When we told him it was lioness he said "See there! Lioness, doctoress!" I pointed out to him that we didn't call female dogs doggesses or female cats cattesses (I didn't tell him what we did call female dogs for fear of offending him of course). I finally told him, "Fine, go to the nearest hospital, walk up to a female doctor and call her a doctoress but quickly step back a few paces depending on the length of her reach." He finally conceded the point, but much to my chagrin I went online that night and unfortunately the word does exist in the Webster's Online Dictionary, although I could not find it in a hard copy dictionary (although "to bathe in blood" is in the hard copy Pashto dictionary...I'm just sayin).
So, that is how my days go and in between I am learning a few words and a useful phrase now and then (salabala!). The instructors are all very professional and passionate about their work. They understand more than anyone how important it is and they take it very seriously. We are blessed to have them. This week off could not have come at a better time. I am ready to see my family and spend some time at home, if only for a few days. Happy Thanksgiving!
Our instructors are truly an interesting and unique group. All are from Afghanistan and all of them have amazing life stories to tell. Between the Soviet invasion, Taliban rule and the current war, life for them has been a struggle. All of the instructors are well educated, and they all had professions in Afghanistan, including doctors, engineers and politicians. But for various reasons they were forced or chose to start a new life in the United States. Many were forced because they had worked for the American military and it had become unsafe for them and their family. So now they are here, teaching Pashto to a bunch of knucklehead soldiers, Sailors, airmen and Marines. I feel sorry for them because it is one thing to be a kindergarten teacher but it is another thing when all of the kindergartners are in their thirties and forties. The poor guys have to sit there and teach the equivalent of ABCs and listen to excruciatingly painful conversations in their native language. Of course they are also teaching a language that was never standardized, so the vocabulary and grammar sort of shift and bend, swaying back and forth like stalks of wheat on a windy day (alright that was pretty bad but you get the picture). We have learned it is futile to ask "Why." Every time, and I mean absolutely every time, someone asks a question about Pashto and why something is the way it is, they will inevitably start talking about English and all the weird things about English "Why is the verb "to go" go, going, gone, went? Where did the "went" come from, it doesn't look anything like go! And what about these apostrophes and contractions...how do you explain that?" Of course it is futile to try and explain that, we aren't...excuse me...we are not attacking their language we are just trying to understand the rules and if there is a reason for it or a history behind it perhaps it would help us to learn more effectively. It just doesn't...sorry...does not work. I found the perfect word in the Pashto Dictionary as I was browsing through it one day (yes that is what I am reduced to, reading Pashto Dictionaries). The word is "salabala" and it means "for no rhyme or reason." It is my favorite word in any language. Of course, as luck would have it none of the instructors knew what the word was so it is an obscure, unused word. Why? Salabala. One of the instructors did say if you separate it into two words it could mean "cold goat" which could also come in handy one day. The most disturbing thing I found in the dictionary is that apparently they have a verb "To bathe in blood." The instructor said that was a mistake and there is no such verb but...it is there nonetheless. Now, the word for sky is "aasman" (which brings to mind a memorable Seinfeld episode) the color green is "sheen" and blue is "aabee." But what color is the aasman? Why, it is sheen of course. But, I thought the sky was blue. Well, it is, and when they say sheen aasman then sheen means blue, but only in that instance...the rest of the time it means green......huh? But why do you not use aabee? Why does the English word "knife" start with a 'k'? Salabala. My favorite conversation with an instructor was a battle that went on for over two days. We were talking about medical terms and the word "doctor," which in Pashto is "daktar." The instructor just wanted to confirm with us that female doctors in the United States are called "doctoresses." We all corrected him by letting him know that no, female doctors are not called doctoresses, they are called doctors. But he was adamant about it. "No, I am sure, that is what they taught me in English class." We debated back and forth for a few more minutes and then went back to the lesson. The next day he came back to the class triumphant that he had proven us wrong. "I looked it up on the internet...the definition is there...in Wikipedia." He also asked us what we call a female lion. When we told him it was lioness he said "See there! Lioness, doctoress!" I pointed out to him that we didn't call female dogs doggesses or female cats cattesses (I didn't tell him what we did call female dogs for fear of offending him of course). I finally told him, "Fine, go to the nearest hospital, walk up to a female doctor and call her a doctoress but quickly step back a few paces depending on the length of her reach." He finally conceded the point, but much to my chagrin I went online that night and unfortunately the word does exist in the Webster's Online Dictionary, although I could not find it in a hard copy dictionary (although "to bathe in blood" is in the hard copy Pashto dictionary...I'm just sayin).
So, that is how my days go and in between I am learning a few words and a useful phrase now and then (salabala!). The instructors are all very professional and passionate about their work. They understand more than anyone how important it is and they take it very seriously. We are blessed to have them. This week off could not have come at a better time. I am ready to see my family and spend some time at home, if only for a few days. Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Life Changing Moments
My daughter has a ring on her finger. I haven't seen it in person yet since she is on the other side of the country (actually I am on the "other" side of the country..she hasn't moved). She did send me a photo on my cell phone. I knew it was going to happen because I had received a phone call about three weeks ago from a young man who asked my blessing to take my daughter's hand in marriage. Although I knew it was going to happen one day, it is one of those life changing moments that surprise you no matter how prepared you think you might be. After he made the initial inquiry there was silence on the line because I was so choked up I couldn't get any words out. He finally asked if I was still there and I asked him to "give me a minute, someone just asked for my daughter's hand in marriage." After I was able to gather myself we had a nice talk. He is a great man and I am elated that they have decided to become husband and wife. By the time I called Midori and told her I was blubbering so much she couldn't understand a word I was saying. I didn't get much sleep that night as the wave of emotions kept shaking me out of my slumber...pride, melancholy, excitement, fear, happiness, sadness...it was all there at one time or another. My one and only daughter, my lovely daughter with the purest of hearts is getting married. Oh! That they do it right and weather the storms of marriage and come to know the unwritten rules of compromise and understanding and love that is unconditional. Oh! That they take the time to savor the joy of sharing in each others lives. Does this mean I am old? Is this another chapter ending in an ever thinning book (not that I am thinning unfortunately...just the book of my life). Will she still need me? Will she have time for her old man when he needs her? Although I have stabilized over the past few weeks, the moment, the event, the thought that my daughter is really getting married, stays with me each and every day and the love that I have for my daughter grows. I can't wait to see the adventure unfold!
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