Language blues

I’m living in Swaziland, so naturally I’m trying to pick up some siSwati. Some parts are relatively easy, and so things like the greetings (Sawubona bhuti – Yebo sisi – Unjani? - Ngiyaphila, wena unjan?) I’ve got down (for an umlungu, anyway).

Some phrases are just beautiful to say, rolling off the tongue like “lilana lihle” (which means “The sun is beautiful”). Others are fun as partial puns, like “Ulala la?” (which means “are you going to sleep here?” and is applied by kindly programs directors to stray Australian girls still in the office more than 30 mins after close of day at 4.30pm). (I also love that the conjugated and present tense form for “sleep” is “lala”. Oh, and the word for “death” is “mukulala” – which kind of means “ongoing sleep”.)

Where do things get complicated? Well.

For a long time, I could say “yes” (yebo, eg “yebo siyacona” means “Yes We Can” in siSwati) but I could not say “no”.

This was something of an issue, as “no” is quite an important word in any language.

Being of a positive disposition has its limits; sometimes you really do want and need to say “no”.

No thank you, I don’t want a taxi (Cha ngiyabonga, angite). No, I don’t want your number (Cha, angite inomnolo wena). No, sorry, I have a boyfriend (Cha, ncesi, nginesignani). (I make no claims to correctness with grammar.) I would say my acquisition of a stalker on my very first day was directly related to my inability to say “no thank you” in siSwati.

As you can see, I knew the written word for “no”. No is “cha”. Easy, you might think. Except “c” in siSwati denotes “click” and “no comparative sound in English” in my language guide. Now, after much practice I’ve mastered the “c” click, and I’ve also mastered using it both at the start and in the middle of a word. So, I can say “cha” now. I can say “Sicelo”, the name of one of my colleagues - my makhelwane (neighbour) who sits at the workstation next to me. I can even say “kuyangichaza” (it’s exciting, which of course my mastery of the “c” click is…).

But wait. There are several clicks. They sound different. So I’ve lately learned how to say “excuse me” – “ncesi”. I term it an “n” click. I say it when I’m trying to get past someone on the shops or street (everyone here walks so slowly). Now I’ve mastered the “n” click I am scrupulously polite, mostly because I get a great kick out of saying “ncesi” to someone who hears me before they see me. They murmur something back and step aside – then double take and often laugh with surprise when they realise that it was an umlungu that just said it!

The click that is in the yet-to-be-mastered category is the “g” click (“gc” in written siSwati). The g is silent, which is a source of great relief to me. But I can’t get the tone of that click right yet, nor the position of the tongue in the mouth. And there’s a “q” click too! Like Inqaba. Let’s not even start on the siSwati borrowing from Zulu – the “x” click…

My only consolation is that my name is also difficult. There’s no “R” in siSwati for “Rebecca”, and as far as I can tell, “Z” never begins a word, so “Zaman” is also a stumbling point. Swazis have to concentrate a little to say “Rebecca Zaman”, in the same way that I have to concentrate a little to say “Sicelo”.