Napenda kuongea Kiswahili...

"I love to speak Swahili." Which is why I've been trading emails with a few of my Tanzanian friends since returning to the States, partly just to say what's up, mambo vipi, hope you're well, but mainly to keep up my language skills, seeing as Swahili is the only one I speak halfway decently aside from English, although signs of rust are already starting to appear.

Swahili is a simple language. I always tell people that there is no way there can be an easier one in the world. It is not possible. The range of expression is so limited -- words like "frustrated," or "exasperated," or "distressed," they're all grouped together into one category: mbaya. Bad. Nasikia vibaya. I feel bad. Sure you can say "Nimechukia." I'm angry. But that's it. Now if you want a word for a type of wind, or plant, or something relating to things that I'm never going to talk about, it can get pretty complex. And so on and so forth for the rest of our flowery language, and its translation into Swahili: things Wazungu want to know are simple; things a poor Tanzania farmer needs to know offer more breadth.

An example of something nobody needs to know about in East Africa is what happened in southeast Texas recently: Hurricane Ike. That guy rocked our world. And my buddy Rahim, the sweet shooting small forward from Soweto, read about it in the local newspapers, and was nice enough to email me expressing his condolences: "nasikia huko ni noma upepo na mvua ni kubwa sana."





"I hear there is a problem there. Wind and rain are very big."

That is how you say "hurricane" in a language that has no word for it. If they were forced to create one, I'm sure it would simply come out as "hurikeni." (Pronounced "her-ih-cane-ee.") Instead, Rahim just says "very big wind and rain."

(Ironically, Rahim's self-appointed nickname is "The Rain," as evidenced by another line in that same email: "ni mimi mchizi wako the rain hastalavista msalimie sana muwindaji na mademu wa texas." It's me your boy the rain, hasta la vista (Rahim studies Spanish), greet Hunter and all the chicks in Texas.)

The following is an email I just got from Lazaro, our old Maasai security guard, but not the one who loads the arrow backwards onto the bow.




Lazaro is a sweet guy; he's 17. He printed out his email and had it laminated, so that we could communicate in the future. When he handed it to me, it was with all the reverence that an Asian businessman would present alongside with his business card. It was a Maasai security guard's version of a business card, this laminated rectangle of computer paper. You can really see not only Lazaro's personality shine through on this email, but a sense of what the Swahili language is all about, too: lots of courtesy, lots of repetition of very simple ideas. And in Lazaro's case, no punctuation. This is why I was able to learn it so quick. It is extremely straight forward.


mambo hatari vipi mbona kimiya nashukuru nimepata meseji yako ninawakumbuka mlionisadia asandeni sana familia yako awajambo namimi sijambo sana uko marikani joto sana mimi naendelea vizuri na kingereza yangu natakiwa mkija tanzania tunaongea kingereza tu mimi natakiwa nizome toeged kumbeleka wazungu porini maisha yangu ya badae niliyokuambia sasa usikasirike nikuambie nitafutie mzungu ya kuowa mimi nimekuwa mtu mzima anzande sana mimi lazaro baraka mnzalimie muindaji mwambie namzalimia sana mwambie namkumbuka alifiyo nimpeleka osipitali nashukuru sana kwahilo sasa naishi nawanzungu mwambie muindaji wakati anakuja tanzania aniletee kamera na lapotop kwasababu nimeshajua kutumia ansande nakutakiya kazi njema marafiki yako tutakuja uko marikani mungu akipenda ansande sana kasi njema msalimie dada furaha kama siyeye ningekuwa wapi namkumbuka sana mwambie akija tanzania nimeandalia zawadi yake tu tupo pamoja naendelea vizuri sanana wakina all alley tamika end tim bay bay tu

"what's up danger ("Hatari" was my nickname) how come you're so quiet thanks i got your message ("meseji," the new word for message, see?) i remember y'all when you helped me thank y'all so much is your family all right and me i'm doing just fine over there in america it's really hot me i'm doing well and my english y'all should come to tanzania we'll just speak english me i should study (followed by a word I don't understand) to take wazungu (word for white boys) to the forest to set up my life for the future i told you now don't be sad i'm telling you i'll find a mzungu (a singular form of white boy) to be with me i've become a real man thank you so much i am lazaro baraka tell hunter (his nickname, the literal word for "hunter," is Mwindaji) hello tell him i greet him warmly tell him i remember when he took me to the hospital (Lazaro had really bad malaria right before we left) and i'm really grateful for that now i'm living with wazungu tell hunter when he comes to tanzania he should bring me a camera and a laptop because i already know to send him thanks (this part I don't get at all, and it's not because of language barriers) i wish you good work to your friends we will come to america if god wishes thanks so much good work greet tait (his other Mzungu friend, also ours) where should i be i remember her a lot tell her if she comes to tanzania i've got her present we're together i'm doing very well (don't know "wakina") alley tamika and tim (the three people living there now) just bay bay (does he know that's my old nickname from junior high??)"


Aisee, naimiss ile lugha!!