2.27.2009

Khmer.

I just realized how long it has been since I have written a blog; almost simultaneously, I realized that I have a pretty good story to tell about the Khmer language.

When we were in Phnom Penh for the longest week of training and city life I have ever had (I think that I must be a country gal at heart), I met up with a few people who were touring about the country in a local guesthouse lounge. There were a selection of Israelis, one of which taught me a few useful words in Hebrew (Hebrew!) and a couple of Austrian girls, all of whom were speaking English in various accents and abilities, a very interesting experience here. Now, in this particular guesthouse, the managers have found out through a few visits that I am decent in Khmer and have decided that I am interesting because of that fact (It is a guesthouse mainly for backpackers, and I very few Khmer speakers find their way through, with the exception of the local PCVs).

So I was here, sitting in the lounge, chatting with the other foreigners and telling them about some local flavors and places to go, when one particular manager (His name is Allah, though some American guy decided he looked more like a Spencer, so he began to call himself that) began to talk about me to the other men in the room. I heard him, turned around, and began talking to the men in Khmer, a feat which has gotten easier through each bit of practice. I can talk about the basics of my life (name, family, age, organization, etc) with ease. It’s only when things get more complicated (politics, Americana, and any number of random subjects) that I begin to have trouble. I also have difficulty when it comes to unusual vocabulary or accents and when it comes to people with few teeth. So… yesterday, when I was in a taxi going home and it had been discovered that I speak Khmer (surely, as one woman said!), and the two-toothed, one-legged man in the back began to talk about Obama and his dark skin and American influence, I was a little bit lost.

Either way, I have gone from, “She listens not enough,” to, “she speaks Khmer surely,” so life is good. And as I spoke to the men in the guesthouse, and then explained to the foreigners what I had said, they pointed out to me how silly Khmer really is. I confess I do find it a bit strange, this language I’ve learned, and after the German-English and Hebrew (Hebrew!)- English speakers pointed out more, well, I thought I could share a few eccentricities of the language.

1. There are no verb tenses. There is one word for eat, for sleep, for walk, run, sit, stand, go… you name it. I can put a word in front of the verb to signify past, present, or future, but generally, they just live in the moment and use whatever verb needs used for that exact time and place.

2. There are no plurals. I can’t put an ‘s’ on the end of a words to make it known that there is more than one of that thing. I fact, I would just say the same thing twice. There is more than one girl… She she is going to the market. There is more than one student… He he is studying. There is more than one cat… It it is hungry. There is quite a nice ring to that, though, at times.

3. From above… the word for ‘he’ and the word for ‘she,’ though not the word for ‘it’ (see the next point) are the same word.

4. There are a number of words that change depending on who you are in the culture. It is a society of levels, so kids and animals, teens/adults, grandparents or old folk, monks, and the king all have different versions of say ‘eat,’ or ‘sleep.’ The monks and I do not eat the same. The king sleeps different than everyone. The animals die differently than people, and so on and so forth.

5. I almost never hear anyone use names. The most common thing I hear is the word ‘bong,’ literally – older someone. Or, for kids, you say ‘own,’ or younger someone. Or, for any woman with gray hair you say, ‘yiey,’ or grandma, whether or not they have grandchildren or not. This practice does get dicey sometimes, though. Since people call each other by these few simple words (you can also include aunt and uncle into this equation), usually replacing the subject of the sentence with said words, I am surprised that there is not more confusion. Take this scenario, which I have seen happen more than once in front of me… The old women, most of whom are homemakers and run the house and its finances, are the people who usually take part in any kind of funeral or wedding or Buddhist ceremony as a large group. The young people don’t have the patience to sit through a long and hot Buddhist chant, but somehow the grandmothers all manage as a group to enjoy the long time in their white blouses and kroma scarves wrapped around their body like the pageant princesses wear their sashes. Now imagine a room full of old women, some of them with their heads shaved in the Buddhist style, all of them tan and worn from long years in the tropical heat and through decades of a difficult life. They are all sitting and chatting together, waiting for the monks to appear and bless whatever needs blessed that day.

And they all call each other… ‘yiey.’ With 30-some women, all of them answering to the word ‘yiey’ from their own families and friends, all of them calling each other the same, all of them knowing precisely which yiey is being called to by any other yiey at any given time. Names are irrelevant, forgotten through years of being ‘mom’ and years more of being the mom of a mom. It is incredible…

But on with Khmer…

6. The language, generally, is very simple. There are no articles, no plurals, not a lot of distinctions for particular people, and not a remarkable amount of rules. So I find myself speaking very simply in this language. Here are some examples, translated as best as I can into English phrases…

“Doe na?” Go (question)? Where are you going?
“Nyam Bai howie no?” Eat rice already not? Have you eaten yet?
“Kang no ai na?” Bike where (question)? Where is my bicycle?
“Mok bi na?” From (question)? Where are you from?/
Where’ve you been?/ What country are you from?
“Ay-u pun man chnam?” Age how many year? How old are you?
“Knyom ay-u mapei chnam.”I age 20 year. I’m 20 years old.
“Me-an tourisap awt?” Have phone no? Do you have a phone?
“Sa-at na!” Pretty a lot! Cute, handsome, pretty,
gorgeous, or lovely.

Needless to say, Khmer is an interesting language that I enjoy immensely… and it is getting easier, enough that when I say I have only been here for 6 months or so, most people look at me in complete shock wondering how on earth I have learned this much this fast. And then, somehow, the conversation (usually) turns into a conversation about how I’ve learned (I live with Khmer people, I need to know the language), (Yes, I study the language), (No, I do not want a Khmer husband so that I can learn more)…

2.06.2009

The Game

2-5-09

Sometimes the stars fall into alignment in just such a way as to aid me in having more than too much fun with my students here. I had one of those days recently.

My favorite game to play with my students is called ‘Slap the Board.’ It does have educational value, there is vocabulary, listening, friendly competition, teamwork, and the all-important fun factor which, for me, is the main component of language learning. I say this because I still remember with a very clear picture sitting in a coffee shop with my Khmer teacher and my peers in training, learning about comparatives and superlatives by talking trash to each other in Khmer. Fun. Educational. Set into my brain.

In ‘Slap the Board,’ there is a nice selection of words written onto the chalkboard and one student from each team standing with their backs to the board, until, of course, I call out one of the words and they turn and frantically search until one of them hits it and a point is awarded to the team. Sounds great, you say? It is! There is usually massive participation from all of the students in the class, as they yell “above,” “below,” and point frantically while the students touch various words in hopes that they are touching the correct one. It is loud and boisterous, and I am sure you are wondering why I cannot play it all the time.

There are actually several reasons that the game is virtually unplayable. The most conducive environment to play it in is in my 10A/10B classes – I join the two classes and the seats are bursting with students, but the classroom is cement and relatively sound proof, especially since there is an empty classroom in between us gamers and the actually studying 11G class. However, in the rest of my 10th grade classes, star alignment must take place. Every other classroom is made of wood and instead of the walls in between classes going all the way up to the roof, they instead only go about halfway, leaving a large sound traveling gap between all three of the classes in any given building. Teaching in the middle classroom is usually a battle of the voices for that given reason. Imagine a huge game distracting two extra classes instead of just the one you are intending to! Plus, it is my opinion that the more the merrier, so I like to put two classes together to lighten spirits and let them see some new faces.

Life was good to me this day. 10C, my favorite class of all, was having a ‘break,’ which means that their teacher didn’t show up, 10D was who we were to teach, and 10E had gone home for lack of teachers/energy/class (take your pick of any the excuses). It was perfect, so I somehow got some of the 10C’ers into the 10D class, wrote up my words, and let the games begin. Sometimes I choose sides of the class as teams, or the different classes as the teams, but this time I decided on a battle of the sexes, in honor of the upcoming V day, of course.

And on we played, a very close game of girls versus guys aided a bit by my theories on who should win and if I can aid that at all. Sometimes I choose mis-matched pairs, or try to help out the girls a bit based on where she is looking. It is my opinion that the women here need a little self-esteem, beginning with grade 10 board-slapping. And so, through careful work on a tie-breaker at the last minute of the game, the women won and the boys were crushed. And so we asked, “Ladies, as the winning team, what would you like the losing team to do?” The answer was almost unanimous. “Sing!”

And so the campaign was on. The boys, unused to their position as losers and unwilling to sing, refused all of the wild attempts I made to get them to sing. My favorite kids, like Hin, a boy with high cheekbones and a sweet disposition who’s had a scrape on his face all week from a moto fall, Sophy, a boy still growing into his body as awkwardly as he can but making up for it with pure charm that only a 10th grader can have, Poin, the troublemaker who will skip my class right in front of me – walking in front of the window as if I am blind of have somehow forgotten that he is in the class, and the rest of the entertaining class, all refused to get up, saying that they can’t, they can’t! The bell rang, signifying the end of the hour, and I saw my fun day draining as the boys’ refusal left a dull taste in the air.

But then…As head of the class, Sophy had to get up to deliver the attendance book to the teacher desk, where my co-teacher was impatiently watching my antics. As he began to return to his seat, I rushed over to his seat, splaying out my arms to prevent him from sitting down, leaving him standing in front of his mates. He grudgingly accepted the victory and managed with a few words what I had been unable to – he got the entire male population of the class to stand up and stand behind him

The girls were loving it, especially as he and another student (supposedly, the one who is actually good at singing) began their rendition of my favorite song in current circulation: Pram Bouan Dola - $5000. It is a song about a man who loves a woman and in order to pay her dowry sells off everything he owns – his moto, his tractor, his house – but it still isn’t enough, and he withdraws into sadness and depression at his lost love. Granted, not the best lyrics or message, but a pretty catchy tune, with a emotion tortured voice that wails his pain to the world.

They sang, Hin danced, they all watched me (I dance and act excitable about just about everything) and the girls ate up their victory. It was a pretty excellent and star-aligned day…