I'm thankful for...
...a sturdy house I can feel safe in.
...a well, pump and tank that allow me to have water when I want it.
...insurance that covers all my medical needs.
...several pairs of underwear.
...the freedom to leave if I really want to.
...a washsink and a place to hang clothes indoors.
...two legs that make getting around easy.
...two ears that let me hear life.
...two eyes the let me see life.
...bananas and peanut butter. Together or separate.
...a supportive family.
...first-hand clothing.
...contact lenses.
...a job.
...a refrigerator.
...literacy.
...people whose point of view differs from mine.
...diversity.
...Christmas music.
...and the ability to download it.
...family game night.
...grade schoolers and high schoolers.
...clouds and rain.
...oscillating fans.
...electricity, especially when we have it.
...a gas stove.
...the internet.
...laughter.
...shampoo for washing long hair.
...health.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
The Wachi
The Wachi - That's NicaSpanish for watchguard. It's one of a handful of jobs that quickly come to mind that does not get taken into account as employment, and thus results in Port having an 80% unemployment rate. Along with teacher and vendor (street or market), I would put it up there as one of the more common jobs here.
I try to go out of my way to be social with the wachi's, even if it's a simple "Manin'" when passing by in the street on the way to school. Some wachis have the fortune of working with or near other wachis, which gives them a little bit of social interaction, at least. But a lot of them spend a long time doing nothing and making sure nothing happens (break-ins, robberies, etc.).
It'a kind of a thankless job. In many cases, you're not really noticed or talked to unless there's some sort of problem. For most wachis, there's not a whole ton of job security either. Being a wachi does not require a specific skillset. It's mainly about trust. Can the people who hired you trust you to do your job? If the answer is no, you're out.
That's the upside and the downside, of course. You don't need much of an education to do the job. But if you're a wachi, you're not considered to have much education, and you'll get treated accordingly by many people. For a lot of people, the wachis are almost invisible, just there to lock and unlock the gate. You'd almost think Wachi is a common name here in Port. Most wachis are not addressed by their name, but rather simply as "wachi."
Some people would be bored out of their mind as a wachi. Shifts are typically 10-12 hours long, six to seven days a week. The nightshift, I imagine, can be incredibly uninteresting. I've done nightshifts before where I've actually had to do work, and it's hard to not fall asleep. Just imagine sitting in a chair, or a hammock if you're lucky, all night. Try not to doze off. Of course, the evening chill might be enough to keep you awake. It's actually been cool enough that I've considered putting on long sleeves to stay warm if I'm walking around at night.
The wachi's that work for the Sisters actually have it fairly well off. They get the equivalent of a teacher's salary and a couple weeks of vacation every six months or so. They get lunch on a fairly regular basis, which is a perk I don't think a lot of wachis get to experience. Don Trinales has worked for the Sisters for 25 years now, so there's obviously something worth sticking around for. I don't see him as much because he's often out on the bike running errands or working on some project in the bowels of the convent.
Benedicto watches the gate that leads into the big playground that Niño Jesús and Escuela Maureen share. I talk to him pretty much everyday. Usually just about the weather and random other tidbits, but he said recently that he'll be sad when I go because I always stop to talk to him. I don't think he gets that from too many other people, and I think he genuinely appreciates it.
The Wachi culture would actually be a really interesting anthropologic study for any aspiring research anthropologists. I think there's a lot more to the norms and other intricacies of the wachis of Port than I've been able to get to know. I'm almost positive that most of them would be more than happy to do an interview. They don't get much attention otherwise, you know.
I try to go out of my way to be social with the wachi's, even if it's a simple "Manin'" when passing by in the street on the way to school. Some wachis have the fortune of working with or near other wachis, which gives them a little bit of social interaction, at least. But a lot of them spend a long time doing nothing and making sure nothing happens (break-ins, robberies, etc.).
It'a kind of a thankless job. In many cases, you're not really noticed or talked to unless there's some sort of problem. For most wachis, there's not a whole ton of job security either. Being a wachi does not require a specific skillset. It's mainly about trust. Can the people who hired you trust you to do your job? If the answer is no, you're out.
That's the upside and the downside, of course. You don't need much of an education to do the job. But if you're a wachi, you're not considered to have much education, and you'll get treated accordingly by many people. For a lot of people, the wachis are almost invisible, just there to lock and unlock the gate. You'd almost think Wachi is a common name here in Port. Most wachis are not addressed by their name, but rather simply as "wachi."
Some people would be bored out of their mind as a wachi. Shifts are typically 10-12 hours long, six to seven days a week. The nightshift, I imagine, can be incredibly uninteresting. I've done nightshifts before where I've actually had to do work, and it's hard to not fall asleep. Just imagine sitting in a chair, or a hammock if you're lucky, all night. Try not to doze off. Of course, the evening chill might be enough to keep you awake. It's actually been cool enough that I've considered putting on long sleeves to stay warm if I'm walking around at night.
The wachi's that work for the Sisters actually have it fairly well off. They get the equivalent of a teacher's salary and a couple weeks of vacation every six months or so. They get lunch on a fairly regular basis, which is a perk I don't think a lot of wachis get to experience. Don Trinales has worked for the Sisters for 25 years now, so there's obviously something worth sticking around for. I don't see him as much because he's often out on the bike running errands or working on some project in the bowels of the convent.
Benedicto watches the gate that leads into the big playground that Niño Jesús and Escuela Maureen share. I talk to him pretty much everyday. Usually just about the weather and random other tidbits, but he said recently that he'll be sad when I go because I always stop to talk to him. I don't think he gets that from too many other people, and I think he genuinely appreciates it.
The Wachi culture would actually be a really interesting anthropologic study for any aspiring research anthropologists. I think there's a lot more to the norms and other intricacies of the wachis of Port than I've been able to get to know. I'm almost positive that most of them would be more than happy to do an interview. They don't get much attention otherwise, you know.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Jaded
I don't know if it's realism or pessimism. I suppose some might just call it negativity. In any case, I feel like I'm pretty jaded by the lack of follow-through here. I was talking with my director, Marcia, yesterday about a project that I think would be cool to do, but how I feel like it can't come to fruition based on the circumstances. She was, appropriate, offering encouragement on how to make things happen. I was rebuttling that things don't work the same here, and that it's not just an easy change.
So many times and in so many places, I've heard people here say that changes need to happen. Whether they're talking about being punctual, getting an event or activity organized or trying to bring about a more permanent change to the way things happen, I simply no longer believe there's any chance there will be a change in the near future.
I used to believe people when they would say, for example, "Practice is starting at three. We're going to start on time, no matter how many people are there or not." Or "Starting this weekend, we're going to come to the church on Saturday morning to help clean up the property. Every weekend, we need to be here so it stays clean." Or "We need to have teachers' meetings once a week to make sure we are on the same page with the scheduling and to address anything that comes up."
I've gone through an evolution in my reaction to these situations. At first, if, for example, the suggested change wouldn't work with my schedule, I would voice my opposition and ask if anyone had similar conflicts. Once I realized that my dissent wouldn't matter too much since the proposed idea would likely not be followed through on, I started to scoff at the suggestions and have conversations with people who thought likewise. Now I just play along, help in the planning process or decision-making and just accept that it will likely not go anywhere.
So, I don't really know what to do about this. It's kind of a helpless feeling, because you know things aren't going to change, even though you want them to. I guess the upside is that if there's a suggestion or suggested change that doesn't jive with me, I don't have to put a whole lot of stock in it. I recognize that I'm coming off as negative and pessimistic, but at the same time it's kind of a realistic attitude. I guess the idea of sovereignty has been drilled into my head enough that I don't feel like I should come in and try to make changes where people have been living a certain way for such a long time. If people don't want to follow through, they don't want to follow through. Maybe they just like talking through things, and that's where it ends. Of course, everything I've known would label that as a waste of time. But maybe that's just another indication of how little I know.
So many times and in so many places, I've heard people here say that changes need to happen. Whether they're talking about being punctual, getting an event or activity organized or trying to bring about a more permanent change to the way things happen, I simply no longer believe there's any chance there will be a change in the near future.
I used to believe people when they would say, for example, "Practice is starting at three. We're going to start on time, no matter how many people are there or not." Or "Starting this weekend, we're going to come to the church on Saturday morning to help clean up the property. Every weekend, we need to be here so it stays clean." Or "We need to have teachers' meetings once a week to make sure we are on the same page with the scheduling and to address anything that comes up."
I've gone through an evolution in my reaction to these situations. At first, if, for example, the suggested change wouldn't work with my schedule, I would voice my opposition and ask if anyone had similar conflicts. Once I realized that my dissent wouldn't matter too much since the proposed idea would likely not be followed through on, I started to scoff at the suggestions and have conversations with people who thought likewise. Now I just play along, help in the planning process or decision-making and just accept that it will likely not go anywhere.
So, I don't really know what to do about this. It's kind of a helpless feeling, because you know things aren't going to change, even though you want them to. I guess the upside is that if there's a suggestion or suggested change that doesn't jive with me, I don't have to put a whole lot of stock in it. I recognize that I'm coming off as negative and pessimistic, but at the same time it's kind of a realistic attitude. I guess the idea of sovereignty has been drilled into my head enough that I don't feel like I should come in and try to make changes where people have been living a certain way for such a long time. If people don't want to follow through, they don't want to follow through. Maybe they just like talking through things, and that's where it ends. Of course, everything I've known would label that as a waste of time. But maybe that's just another indication of how little I know.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Sometimes I get frustrated by the unpredictability of Escuela Maureen. There are days off for what I feel are extremely obscure holidays (i.e. Literacy Day, Principal's Day). When school is on, sometimes the day is cut short for unknown reasons. Some of the kids I tutor treat school like a bad Catholic treats Sunday mass, only going when they feel like it or for special celebrations. It can be overwhelming sometimes and make me feel like there's no point.
But recently, I've had some really enjoyable, uplifting experiences at Maureen that reminded me that I know I am where I'm supposed to be. They are not particularly life-changing, and I may not even remember these moments come five months from now. But for the present, they've offered me a good pick-me-up for moving forward.
I got to know Esteli at the end of the year last year. He has pretty significant learning delays, and he is very social. He likes asking questions and being in the know on whatever's going on. Unfortunately he hasn't been studying this schoolyear, but he's been hanging out at the school more often the last few weeks, in uniform and everything. I've often felt that my conversations with him would go in a loop. I would answer a question, we would talk about something else, and then he would come back to the previous question. I just kind of blew it off as him not being all with it. But now I'm starting to realize that the first question he brings up is just what he's most interested in. So in a recent conversation, he was interested in knowing about my non-existent girlfriend. So he asks, "Y tu novia?" (And your girlfriend?). I said I didn't have a girlfriend, and he of course carried the conversation to Kathryn and Susan, because I live with them, so obviously we're married. I explained again that I didn't have a girlfriend, and he seemed content with that. He asked me about the States, commented on and played with my hair...and then he switched back to the girlfriend. It was at this point that I realized I hadn't been making much eye contact with him, because I turned to give him the same speech of not having a girlfriend, and I noticed a mischievious grin on his face. I told him with a laugh to quit asking me if I had a girlfriend. He laughed along with me, and I knew then that he was just being facetious. It was a good moment. Esteli is good people.
Eli is one of several students I tutor at Maureen, and he has been by far the most difficult to make any progress with. There are good days where he remembers things he's learned, but often it is a challenge to get him to pay attention and take an interest in the tutoring session. There has been some progress as of late, and we've been practicing reading short sentences and trying to understand what they say, as opposed to just sounding out the syllables the make up the sentence and calling it a day. So we're working out of this book to help kids learn how to read, and he reads one of the sentences, kind of sounding out the syllables but not really seeming to understand. So I say "Que dice esa oracion?" (What does that sentence say?), and he kind of stares off, as he's been prone to do. Now, I always want him to look at the syllable I'm asking him to identify or look at the sentence he's trying to understand. But he starts reciting the sentence, having only looked at it the one time and now looking off into the distance, and he gets all five words out in the right order and everything. And I'm just like, "What was that?" I totally didn't expect him to get the sentence that quickly, and I definitely didn't think he would get it without looking at the thing. It was just kind of an eye-opener for me, and I need to allow him to stare off into the distance if that's what it takes for him to remember what he's reading.
Another one of my students is Yerson. I don't see Yerson as much, because he pretty much decides when he wants to come to class and when he doesn't want to. It's hard to keep his attention in tutoring as well, and I've had to have the "Do you really want me to keep taking you out of class or should I work with someone else" talk a few times. He likes working on math, so I mix that in sometimes, but he's super behind in reading so that's what we need to work on most often. He just isn't interested in working on it. So in a recent tutoring session, I was pleasantly surprised when he actually stayed on task and worked through nearly the whole tutoring session without major distractions. We finished reading a page out of the book we were using, and I checked my clock to see that there were two minutes until recess. So I told Yerson he could bring his stuff back to the classroom, go to the bathroom, whatever... He says "No podemos leer una pagina mas?" (Can't we read one more page?) Well, yeah! I was so shocked to hear the opposite of the normal "No, prof, ya no" (No, prof, no more), that I almost didn't know what to do. It was very refreshing to have him take an interest in the tutoring session again.
All three of these moments happened in the last week, and it's been very encouraging to have these positive interactions with the kids, especially the ones I've been working with on reading. It's refreshing, and hopefully there are more to come.
But recently, I've had some really enjoyable, uplifting experiences at Maureen that reminded me that I know I am where I'm supposed to be. They are not particularly life-changing, and I may not even remember these moments come five months from now. But for the present, they've offered me a good pick-me-up for moving forward.
I got to know Esteli at the end of the year last year. He has pretty significant learning delays, and he is very social. He likes asking questions and being in the know on whatever's going on. Unfortunately he hasn't been studying this schoolyear, but he's been hanging out at the school more often the last few weeks, in uniform and everything. I've often felt that my conversations with him would go in a loop. I would answer a question, we would talk about something else, and then he would come back to the previous question. I just kind of blew it off as him not being all with it. But now I'm starting to realize that the first question he brings up is just what he's most interested in. So in a recent conversation, he was interested in knowing about my non-existent girlfriend. So he asks, "Y tu novia?" (And your girlfriend?). I said I didn't have a girlfriend, and he of course carried the conversation to Kathryn and Susan, because I live with them, so obviously we're married. I explained again that I didn't have a girlfriend, and he seemed content with that. He asked me about the States, commented on and played with my hair...and then he switched back to the girlfriend. It was at this point that I realized I hadn't been making much eye contact with him, because I turned to give him the same speech of not having a girlfriend, and I noticed a mischievious grin on his face. I told him with a laugh to quit asking me if I had a girlfriend. He laughed along with me, and I knew then that he was just being facetious. It was a good moment. Esteli is good people.
Eli is one of several students I tutor at Maureen, and he has been by far the most difficult to make any progress with. There are good days where he remembers things he's learned, but often it is a challenge to get him to pay attention and take an interest in the tutoring session. There has been some progress as of late, and we've been practicing reading short sentences and trying to understand what they say, as opposed to just sounding out the syllables the make up the sentence and calling it a day. So we're working out of this book to help kids learn how to read, and he reads one of the sentences, kind of sounding out the syllables but not really seeming to understand. So I say "Que dice esa oracion?" (What does that sentence say?), and he kind of stares off, as he's been prone to do. Now, I always want him to look at the syllable I'm asking him to identify or look at the sentence he's trying to understand. But he starts reciting the sentence, having only looked at it the one time and now looking off into the distance, and he gets all five words out in the right order and everything. And I'm just like, "What was that?" I totally didn't expect him to get the sentence that quickly, and I definitely didn't think he would get it without looking at the thing. It was just kind of an eye-opener for me, and I need to allow him to stare off into the distance if that's what it takes for him to remember what he's reading.
Another one of my students is Yerson. I don't see Yerson as much, because he pretty much decides when he wants to come to class and when he doesn't want to. It's hard to keep his attention in tutoring as well, and I've had to have the "Do you really want me to keep taking you out of class or should I work with someone else" talk a few times. He likes working on math, so I mix that in sometimes, but he's super behind in reading so that's what we need to work on most often. He just isn't interested in working on it. So in a recent tutoring session, I was pleasantly surprised when he actually stayed on task and worked through nearly the whole tutoring session without major distractions. We finished reading a page out of the book we were using, and I checked my clock to see that there were two minutes until recess. So I told Yerson he could bring his stuff back to the classroom, go to the bathroom, whatever... He says "No podemos leer una pagina mas?" (Can't we read one more page?) Well, yeah! I was so shocked to hear the opposite of the normal "No, prof, ya no" (No, prof, no more), that I almost didn't know what to do. It was very refreshing to have him take an interest in the tutoring session again.
All three of these moments happened in the last week, and it's been very encouraging to have these positive interactions with the kids, especially the ones I've been working with on reading. It's refreshing, and hopefully there are more to come.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
It's been over a year!
No, not that it's been a year since I wrote, though it might seem that way. It's been a year since I started life in Puerto. It's been a whole 13 months that I've been out of the country now, too. I feel like the last four or five months have gone by super-quick. Can I use that as an excuse for why I haven't done much blogging?
I've learned a lot in the last year. I expected it to be fairly simple to get used to living in another country again, and I figured I would be more prepared for the experience from having lived in Ecuador for nine months. It was a bigger adjustment than I had expected getting used to life in Port. I didn't really have a clear picture of what my job was going to be or what the schools would be like, but things ended up being different than I could have imagined. I never thought I would be teaching English at Niño Jesús. The tutoring at Escuela Maureen didn't seem that out of place, but still not what I expected to be doing. The craziness of the schedule at the schools is an experience in its own right.
Miskito being such a prevalent language also threw me for a major loop. I really expected to hear more Spanish in Port. While most people do speak Spanish, Miskito rules supreme in the streets. This was admittedly disappointing for me, because I picked up a lot of my Spanish in Ecuador just listening to other people talk, and not having that at my disposal in Port was a little bit of a shock.
We also had to do a lot on our own as a community for lack of support of a local coordinator. Between finding the right living situation, making financial decisions on major purchases, getting to know Port and getting accustomed to the lifestyle, we were largely on our own. It certainly qualifies as a learning experience, and I am grateful to have lived on my own for a few years before coming to Port. I feel like I was more prepared to handle the challenges that came up.
The challenges and surprises have served their purpose. Though I didn't really like it at the time, I know I learned from each of the situations that came up. I've come to have a much better understanding of how the education system works and how to deal with the kids in the classroom. While at first I was frustrated with the Miskito, I've come to feel fortunate to live in a place with this type of diversity, both in language and in culture.
I'm not saying everything is easy-breezy, happy-go-lucky time either. I still have some frustrations in the classroom, in the house, trying to learn Miskito, still expecting people to show up on time. Even if I'm not thrilled about the situation, though, I know I am learning from it. I still have four months left to learn. Here's hoping I can take advantage.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Yang miskitu bila man ra lan mai daukaisna
That means "I'm going to teach you miskito." Actually, I suppose proper English would be "I'm going to teach Miskito to you." Whatever.
Let's go over a couple of the basics first. To start, if you've ever learned any Spanish, you know that the pronunciation of vowels doesn't change from one word to the next. Same with Miskito. Here's how it works:
a = ah
i = long e (we)
u = oo (chute)
Correct. Only three vowels. Thing is, Miskito only has like 60 years of being a written language so some of the kinks are still being worked out. So sometimes people will throw an 'e' or an 'o' in somewhere in speech or writing. Also in writing, they might make two words into one word or drop a letter off of a word, making you think you're learning a whole different verb conjugation, when in reality it's just a spelling mistake. Not that that's happened to me or anything.
Here are the other 14 letters that Miskito employs:
B, D, H, K, L, M, N, NG, P, R, S, T, W, Y
The only words I can think of that have 'ng' have it at the end. I'm not sure why the 'g' isn't considered a separate letter. The 'w' can have the typical English pronunciation like in 'water' or it can be a 'u' sound like in iws (pronounced EE-oos), which is a command that means sit down.
The 'h' is a breathy sound from the back of the throat. I forget what that's called. Ever watch Hey, Arnold! on Nickelodeon when you were young? ...Or, like, last week? Anyone? No? Well, I'll explain it this way anyway. The bully character in the show, Helga, is secretly in love with the main character, Arnold. Everytime Helga goes into a monologue with herself about how much she loves Arnold, this creepy kid with glasses comes up behind her, breathing down her neck. It's kinda weird. But anyway, the point is that the "h" sound is supposed to be like that creepy kids' breathing. If you haven't seen Hey Arnold! and don't know what I'm talking about, I guess you're SOL. Or you can think of the 'h' in the word 'have', but instead of being at the beginning of the word, the 'h' is somewhere in the middle of the word or at the end.
The hard part about learning Miskito is that there aren't a whole lot of gringos that come through looking to learn the language, so it's barely taught. I guess there probably aren't a ton of people that can really teach the English language so well either, so it's not like it's specific to the Miskito people. Maybe all the multimedia stuff (movies, music, games) just seems to make English more accessible. Anyway, here are some basic words in Miskito.
Au - Yes (kinda sounds like 'ow' when you say it fast, but most people say aaauu)
Apia - No (not to be confused with the Spanish apio [celery])
Naksa - Hello
Aisabi - Goodbye
Nahki sma? - How are you (sma comes from the verb kaia, which means to be. Can someone give me a language where the verb 'to be' isn't irregular? I know they must exist, I just don't speak them. Why did so many people insist on making one of the most basic verbs in their language NOT follow the rules for a regular verb?! English, Spanish, Miskito - the verb 'to be', 'ser/estar', and 'kaia'? All irregular in the present tense. Oh, quechua, too - the indigenous language in Ecuador. What a dumb thing for languages to do).
Ok, I'm done with my tangent.
Yang - I, me, mine
Man - You, your
Witin - He/She, Him/Her, His/Her
Pain - Fine, good (pronounced 'pine')
Saura - Bad
Anira? - Where
Ahkia? - When
Dia muni? - Why
Nu apu - I don't know
Dia takisa? - What's up
Diara apu - Nothing
You'll notice that there are English-sounding words in Miskito (pain/fine, nu/know). The Miskito that is spoken in Port differs from true Miskito spoken in some communities here in the RAAN (North Atlantic Autonomous Region). Both English and Spanish have been incorporated into the local Miskito. Here are some more examples. See if you can guess what they are. The English translation follows below:
1. mabil
2. bas
3. ais
4. ansa munaia
5. antin takaia
6. lait
7. park
8. sus
9. raun
10. il
11. snu
12. plawar
13. markit
14. gabamint
15. nisan
1. marble
2. boss
3. ice
4. to answer
5. to hunt
6. light (electrical as opposed to tingni [natural light])
7. fork
8. shoes
9. round
10. hill
11. snow
12. flour
13. market
14. government
15. nation
The problem with all these words is that people then think it should be easy for me to learn the language! Admittedly, having a knowledge of English and Spanish makes it considerably easier for someone to learn Miskito than someone who has no knowledge of neither English nor Spanish. Still, there are so many grammatical differences, it's not a quick translation.
One of those grammatical differences is verb placement. In Miskito, the verb falls at the end of the sentence. For example, Yang markitra auna means 'I'm going to the market.' But as you can see, market is not at the end of the sentence; the verb is. Literally, the Miskito translates as 'I market to going', where the ra attached to markit means 'to.' It's tough to get in the habit of putting the verb at the end of the sentence. You really have to alter your thinking in trying to construct statements.
Miskito also employs infixes. In English, we only have prefixes (before the word) or suffixes (after the word). But miskito throws stuff in the middle, most commonly for indicating possession. Here's an example:
English - eye ; my eye ; your eye ; his/her eye
Miskito - nakra ; naikra ; namkra ; witin ai nakra
But possession indicators aren't ALWAYS infixes either. Sometimes they're suffixes. Example:
English - mother ; my mother ; your mother ; his/her mother
Miskito - yapti ; yaptiki ; yaptikam ; witin yaptika
But the confusion doesn't stop there. There are irregulars, too.
English - name ; my name ; your name ; his/her name
Miskito - nina ; nini ; ninam ; witin nina
So you can kind of see the pattern of the indicators of the first person having an 'i' (ai, ki, i) and the second person having an 'm' (am, kam, m), but the third person isn't so easy to peg down, and I'm yet to learn any rules for when to use which indicator. Just a lot of memorization.
It can be entertaining to learn Miskito, though, too. I already talked about some of the English words that have been incorporated into Miskito, and there are plenty more where those came from. There's danz pulaia (to dance), which literally means 'to play dance.' Ser munaia (to share), which literally means 'to do share.' And win takaia and lus takaia (to win and to lose), which literally mean 'to go out win' and 'to go out lose.'
But there are also some 'combo verbs' as I call them (verbs that have two words), that are kind of interesting when you look at their literal translation. Here are some of my favorites:
1. Aisi kaikaia - to pay attention. Aisi means father and kaikaia means watch or see, so the literal translation of aisi kaikaia is 'to watch father.'
2. Latwan kaikaia - to love. Latwan means pain, and we know kaikaia can mean see. So to love someone is to 'see their pain.'
3. Makabi walaia - to question/ask a question. Makabi is wisdom. Walaia means to listen. To ask someone a question means you 'listen to their wisdom.'
4. Bila kaikaia - to wait for someone. Bila is mouth. So when I tell you to bili kaiks (wait for me), I'm literally telling you to 'watch my mouth.'
5. Luki kaikaia - to think about. Luki comes from the verb lukaia, to see or believe. Luki kaikaia literally means 'to see a thought.'
6. Kupia krawaia - to remember. That's the translation I was given. The dictionary has kupia krawaia as to wake up. Either way, the literal translation is cool. Kupia means heart and krawaia means the wind is blowing. So whether it means 'I wake up' or 'I remember', kupi krawisa literally means, 'the wind blows my heart.'
So the Miskito is coming along alright. I'd like to be able to speak it better, but I've admittedly been more focused on my Spanish since I'll actually be able to use that back in the States. And since no one keeps appointments or has a good grasp on how to teach the language, I'll keep picking up bits and pieces where I can, and maybe by the time I have to leave I'll have a good grasp on it!
Let's go over a couple of the basics first. To start, if you've ever learned any Spanish, you know that the pronunciation of vowels doesn't change from one word to the next. Same with Miskito. Here's how it works:
a = ah
i = long e (we)
u = oo (chute)
Correct. Only three vowels. Thing is, Miskito only has like 60 years of being a written language so some of the kinks are still being worked out. So sometimes people will throw an 'e' or an 'o' in somewhere in speech or writing. Also in writing, they might make two words into one word or drop a letter off of a word, making you think you're learning a whole different verb conjugation, when in reality it's just a spelling mistake. Not that that's happened to me or anything.
Here are the other 14 letters that Miskito employs:
B, D, H, K, L, M, N, NG, P, R, S, T, W, Y
The only words I can think of that have 'ng' have it at the end. I'm not sure why the 'g' isn't considered a separate letter. The 'w' can have the typical English pronunciation like in 'water' or it can be a 'u' sound like in iws (pronounced EE-oos), which is a command that means sit down.
The 'h' is a breathy sound from the back of the throat. I forget what that's called. Ever watch Hey, Arnold! on Nickelodeon when you were young? ...Or, like, last week? Anyone? No? Well, I'll explain it this way anyway. The bully character in the show, Helga, is secretly in love with the main character, Arnold. Everytime Helga goes into a monologue with herself about how much she loves Arnold, this creepy kid with glasses comes up behind her, breathing down her neck. It's kinda weird. But anyway, the point is that the "h" sound is supposed to be like that creepy kids' breathing. If you haven't seen Hey Arnold! and don't know what I'm talking about, I guess you're SOL. Or you can think of the 'h' in the word 'have', but instead of being at the beginning of the word, the 'h' is somewhere in the middle of the word or at the end.
The hard part about learning Miskito is that there aren't a whole lot of gringos that come through looking to learn the language, so it's barely taught. I guess there probably aren't a ton of people that can really teach the English language so well either, so it's not like it's specific to the Miskito people. Maybe all the multimedia stuff (movies, music, games) just seems to make English more accessible. Anyway, here are some basic words in Miskito.
Au - Yes (kinda sounds like 'ow' when you say it fast, but most people say aaauu)
Apia - No (not to be confused with the Spanish apio [celery])
Naksa - Hello
Aisabi - Goodbye
Nahki sma? - How are you (sma comes from the verb kaia, which means to be. Can someone give me a language where the verb 'to be' isn't irregular? I know they must exist, I just don't speak them. Why did so many people insist on making one of the most basic verbs in their language NOT follow the rules for a regular verb?! English, Spanish, Miskito - the verb 'to be', 'ser/estar', and 'kaia'? All irregular in the present tense. Oh, quechua, too - the indigenous language in Ecuador. What a dumb thing for languages to do).
Ok, I'm done with my tangent.
Yang - I, me, mine
Man - You, your
Witin - He/She, Him/Her, His/Her
Pain - Fine, good (pronounced 'pine')
Saura - Bad
Anira? - Where
Ahkia? - When
Dia muni? - Why
Nu apu - I don't know
Dia takisa? - What's up
Diara apu - Nothing
You'll notice that there are English-sounding words in Miskito (pain/fine, nu/know). The Miskito that is spoken in Port differs from true Miskito spoken in some communities here in the RAAN (North Atlantic Autonomous Region). Both English and Spanish have been incorporated into the local Miskito. Here are some more examples. See if you can guess what they are. The English translation follows below:
1. mabil
2. bas
3. ais
4. ansa munaia
5. antin takaia
6. lait
7. park
8. sus
9. raun
10. il
11. snu
12. plawar
13. markit
14. gabamint
15. nisan
1. marble
2. boss
3. ice
4. to answer
5. to hunt
6. light (electrical as opposed to tingni [natural light])
7. fork
8. shoes
9. round
10. hill
11. snow
12. flour
13. market
14. government
15. nation
The problem with all these words is that people then think it should be easy for me to learn the language! Admittedly, having a knowledge of English and Spanish makes it considerably easier for someone to learn Miskito than someone who has no knowledge of neither English nor Spanish. Still, there are so many grammatical differences, it's not a quick translation.
One of those grammatical differences is verb placement. In Miskito, the verb falls at the end of the sentence. For example, Yang markitra auna means 'I'm going to the market.' But as you can see, market is not at the end of the sentence; the verb is. Literally, the Miskito translates as 'I market to going', where the ra attached to markit means 'to.' It's tough to get in the habit of putting the verb at the end of the sentence. You really have to alter your thinking in trying to construct statements.
Miskito also employs infixes. In English, we only have prefixes (before the word) or suffixes (after the word). But miskito throws stuff in the middle, most commonly for indicating possession. Here's an example:
English - eye ; my eye ; your eye ; his/her eye
Miskito - nakra ; naikra ; namkra ; witin ai nakra
But possession indicators aren't ALWAYS infixes either. Sometimes they're suffixes. Example:
English - mother ; my mother ; your mother ; his/her mother
Miskito - yapti ; yaptiki ; yaptikam ; witin yaptika
But the confusion doesn't stop there. There are irregulars, too.
English - name ; my name ; your name ; his/her name
Miskito - nina ; nini ; ninam ; witin nina
So you can kind of see the pattern of the indicators of the first person having an 'i' (ai, ki, i) and the second person having an 'm' (am, kam, m), but the third person isn't so easy to peg down, and I'm yet to learn any rules for when to use which indicator. Just a lot of memorization.
It can be entertaining to learn Miskito, though, too. I already talked about some of the English words that have been incorporated into Miskito, and there are plenty more where those came from. There's danz pulaia (to dance), which literally means 'to play dance.' Ser munaia (to share), which literally means 'to do share.' And win takaia and lus takaia (to win and to lose), which literally mean 'to go out win' and 'to go out lose.'
But there are also some 'combo verbs' as I call them (verbs that have two words), that are kind of interesting when you look at their literal translation. Here are some of my favorites:
1. Aisi kaikaia - to pay attention. Aisi means father and kaikaia means watch or see, so the literal translation of aisi kaikaia is 'to watch father.'
2. Latwan kaikaia - to love. Latwan means pain, and we know kaikaia can mean see. So to love someone is to 'see their pain.'
3. Makabi walaia - to question/ask a question. Makabi is wisdom. Walaia means to listen. To ask someone a question means you 'listen to their wisdom.'
4. Bila kaikaia - to wait for someone. Bila is mouth. So when I tell you to bili kaiks (wait for me), I'm literally telling you to 'watch my mouth.'
5. Luki kaikaia - to think about. Luki comes from the verb lukaia, to see or believe. Luki kaikaia literally means 'to see a thought.'
6. Kupia krawaia - to remember. That's the translation I was given. The dictionary has kupia krawaia as to wake up. Either way, the literal translation is cool. Kupia means heart and krawaia means the wind is blowing. So whether it means 'I wake up' or 'I remember', kupi krawisa literally means, 'the wind blows my heart.'
So the Miskito is coming along alright. I'd like to be able to speak it better, but I've admittedly been more focused on my Spanish since I'll actually be able to use that back in the States. And since no one keeps appointments or has a good grasp on how to teach the language, I'll keep picking up bits and pieces where I can, and maybe by the time I have to leave I'll have a good grasp on it!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Dang it, dengue!
Well, I was doing pretty well health-wise. I got sick on New Year's Eve and was nauseous for like a week and I've had a few bouts with the hershey squirts since coming down here, but generally I've kept pretty healthy. No trips to the clinic, the hospital; nothing that had me worried about my safety. I was doing good.
Then I got dengue.
Now, I've learned a lot about dengue since I was told I had it, (and on a sidenote, I was actually told "You had dengue" not, "You have dengue.") so before you start thinking I'm gonna kick the bucket before I get out of this country, let me give you a rundown of what I learned.
Dengue is transmitted by the Aedes Egypti mosquito, and it most commonly bites during the day. There are something like four strands of dengue, and once you've contracted one "type" of dengue, you cannot get the same type again. However, if you do contract another one of the strands, your symptoms can possibly be worse.
There is a less severe dengue and a more severe dengue. The symptoms are very similar except that in the more severe case, you basically bleed a lot more. Because blood platelets are low, blood doesn't clot and you end up bleeding kind of uncontrollably, such as from the face.
I got the cheap kind of dengue, or the classic dengue as they call it here in Nicaragua. My symptoms included sudden fever, joint pain, fatigue, bone pain, headache, fatigue, pain behind the eyes, fatigue, and....fatigue. If you didn't notice, fatigue was the most prevalent symptom. I got a fever on a Monday, and that was pretty bad. I just wanted to curl up and not do anything and stop sweating. I don't usually get that feverish that quick, and I had been feeling so-so over the previous week, so when the fever hit, I decided to head to the clinic.
So I survive the night and go into the clinic on Tuesday morning, give the doctor my symptoms. They do some blood tests and find that my blood platelets are low (162,000 per whatever), but not quite below normal (less than 150,000). So I get to come back on Wednesday morning. Over the course of the next 36 hours, I had significant bone pain and pain behind the eyes. Again, the fatigue, not really having the energy to do anything. Thankfully no uncontrollable bleeding.
Wednesday morning I go back into the clinic and they do another blood test to check on my platelets. Thankfully, they've gone up (171,000), and the doc concludes that on Monday they were under the 150,000 mark, which qualifies me for dengue. That's the part where he said, "You had dengue." At this point, despite all the symptoms lining up, I'm skeptical. I don't like this retroactive diagnosis, but I suppose I don't really know what else it could be.
I'm limited on my dengue knowledge at that point, so I'm a little concerned about the d-word. But the doc is pretty much treating this as a routine thing. He prescribes acetaminophen and vitamin-C, and I'm out the door. There's no vaccine or cure for dengue, so the plan is to stay hydrated and rest. Good luck!
Rest was not a problem. I didn't have the energy to do ANYTHING. This wasn't a big deal on Tuesday, because I was so tired that I slept all day. But by Wednesday, I was all slept out but still had no energy, and if you know me, you know that I keep busy. So I kept trying to get up and do something around the house, only to find that every 15 minutes on my feet required about two hours on my back in order to recharge.
The tylenol helped keep the fever at a reasonable level and slowly but surely I've been recovering. Any skepticism I had about whether or not I had dengue has been eliminated by the latest symptom. The new thing is this incessant itch that keeps me awake at night. Bottom of the feet, side of the leg, stomach, shoulders, feet, shoulders, hands, legs - every ten seconds there's a new itch that I try my damnedest to ignore but can't keep from scratching. It's not as bad during the day, only when I'm trying to get to sleep.
Thankfully I have my energy back for the most part. I was able to get to the gym this morning and do the normal shopping errands without feeling like I needed to flop on my bed when I got back. After a couple more days of itching I'm supposed to get a rash which will turn me a nice tint of red. Theoretically I'll be back to normal after that. They say it takes about 15 days to fully recover from dengue, so hopefully by the end of the weekend I'll be good to go.
Oh, I totally lost my appetite in this whole process, too. From last Monday to this past Monday, I was eating maybe a third of what I would normally take down. Believe me, I tried to get more down, but I couldn't do it. So I'm guesstimating that I lost about 10 pounds, which will probably take me about 30 years to put back on, but, again, at least I'm not bleeding from the face.
One of the teachers at Niño Jesús says she's had dengue four times, which is a little bit encouraging because I can't find anything scientific on the second round of dengue; just people saying that the risk is increased for the more serious hemorrhagic dengue. I certainly don't want to be dealing with that anytime soon. I suppose there's not a whole lot I can do. Just hope I dont get more dengue. I finally gave in and got a mosquito net. We'll see if that helps.
Then I got dengue.
Now, I've learned a lot about dengue since I was told I had it, (and on a sidenote, I was actually told "You had dengue" not, "You have dengue.") so before you start thinking I'm gonna kick the bucket before I get out of this country, let me give you a rundown of what I learned.
Dengue is transmitted by the Aedes Egypti mosquito, and it most commonly bites during the day. There are something like four strands of dengue, and once you've contracted one "type" of dengue, you cannot get the same type again. However, if you do contract another one of the strands, your symptoms can possibly be worse.
There is a less severe dengue and a more severe dengue. The symptoms are very similar except that in the more severe case, you basically bleed a lot more. Because blood platelets are low, blood doesn't clot and you end up bleeding kind of uncontrollably, such as from the face.
I got the cheap kind of dengue, or the classic dengue as they call it here in Nicaragua. My symptoms included sudden fever, joint pain, fatigue, bone pain, headache, fatigue, pain behind the eyes, fatigue, and....fatigue. If you didn't notice, fatigue was the most prevalent symptom. I got a fever on a Monday, and that was pretty bad. I just wanted to curl up and not do anything and stop sweating. I don't usually get that feverish that quick, and I had been feeling so-so over the previous week, so when the fever hit, I decided to head to the clinic.
So I survive the night and go into the clinic on Tuesday morning, give the doctor my symptoms. They do some blood tests and find that my blood platelets are low (162,000 per whatever), but not quite below normal (less than 150,000). So I get to come back on Wednesday morning. Over the course of the next 36 hours, I had significant bone pain and pain behind the eyes. Again, the fatigue, not really having the energy to do anything. Thankfully no uncontrollable bleeding.
Wednesday morning I go back into the clinic and they do another blood test to check on my platelets. Thankfully, they've gone up (171,000), and the doc concludes that on Monday they were under the 150,000 mark, which qualifies me for dengue. That's the part where he said, "You had dengue." At this point, despite all the symptoms lining up, I'm skeptical. I don't like this retroactive diagnosis, but I suppose I don't really know what else it could be.
I'm limited on my dengue knowledge at that point, so I'm a little concerned about the d-word. But the doc is pretty much treating this as a routine thing. He prescribes acetaminophen and vitamin-C, and I'm out the door. There's no vaccine or cure for dengue, so the plan is to stay hydrated and rest. Good luck!
Rest was not a problem. I didn't have the energy to do ANYTHING. This wasn't a big deal on Tuesday, because I was so tired that I slept all day. But by Wednesday, I was all slept out but still had no energy, and if you know me, you know that I keep busy. So I kept trying to get up and do something around the house, only to find that every 15 minutes on my feet required about two hours on my back in order to recharge.
The tylenol helped keep the fever at a reasonable level and slowly but surely I've been recovering. Any skepticism I had about whether or not I had dengue has been eliminated by the latest symptom. The new thing is this incessant itch that keeps me awake at night. Bottom of the feet, side of the leg, stomach, shoulders, feet, shoulders, hands, legs - every ten seconds there's a new itch that I try my damnedest to ignore but can't keep from scratching. It's not as bad during the day, only when I'm trying to get to sleep.
Thankfully I have my energy back for the most part. I was able to get to the gym this morning and do the normal shopping errands without feeling like I needed to flop on my bed when I got back. After a couple more days of itching I'm supposed to get a rash which will turn me a nice tint of red. Theoretically I'll be back to normal after that. They say it takes about 15 days to fully recover from dengue, so hopefully by the end of the weekend I'll be good to go.
Oh, I totally lost my appetite in this whole process, too. From last Monday to this past Monday, I was eating maybe a third of what I would normally take down. Believe me, I tried to get more down, but I couldn't do it. So I'm guesstimating that I lost about 10 pounds, which will probably take me about 30 years to put back on, but, again, at least I'm not bleeding from the face.
One of the teachers at Niño Jesús says she's had dengue four times, which is a little bit encouraging because I can't find anything scientific on the second round of dengue; just people saying that the risk is increased for the more serious hemorrhagic dengue. I certainly don't want to be dealing with that anytime soon. I suppose there's not a whole lot I can do. Just hope I dont get more dengue. I finally gave in and got a mosquito net. We'll see if that helps.
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