9 Kamena 2013: Ubupolitiki bw’Ururimi

The first interesting thing that happened after I left the Wi-Fi yesterday was the realization that I now kind of know how to get from one place to another here. Now, when I say that, I don’t mean it figuratively: there is one place, and then there is another place, and I know how to get between those two places! Still, I am better off in that respect than I was before.

I found this bit of confidence because I had to walk back from the university to the house on my own: the student whom I had followed there (one of the two who showed me around the city yesterday) had to stay and study for an exam, so after being briefly pointed in the right direction I made my way back. Admittedly, it was more or less a straight line, but I was happy with myself.

When I got back, I found that my host-father (I’m not crazy about that wording, but it’s the best I can think of) had come home. I think I mentioned before that he had been doing job training abroad, and his return flight was in the afternoon. He is a very pleasant, outgoing guy, and he has a pretty good command of English.

I have to tread carefully now; he likes to talk to me in English, in a large part because he knows I understand it better, and perhaps also because he wants to practice or make a good impression or something like that. This can be a very good thing: there have been a bunch of times when translating problematic words has been very hard, and it will be useful to have someone who confidently knows both ends. On the other hand, a big part of the reason I am here is to learn Kinyarwanda better, and I do not want to retreat into speaking English and communicate with others through him.

On a related note, I noticed that he alternates talking to his older son in Kinyarwanda, English and French (which he also speaks). Smart choice; hearing all of those languages as a toddler is an opportunity most Rwandans do not have, and the kid will be better prepared for it.

That relates to something I learned a little about yesterday, but that didn’t really fit into the narrative of the previous blog-post: the status of English here. For those not up on the politics of language in Rwanda, here is a brief summary: Rwanda was a Belgian colony, whose official language was French before and after independence. Education was in Kinyarwanda at the lower levels, and then transitioned to French by about third grade. Post-1994, however, France was perceived as having been a little too tolerant of the genocidal government, and moreover English was quickly becoming the language of international business. In the late ’90s, English was added as an official language, and within a decade became the language of government, business and education.

Think for a minute about the challenges this inevitably created. Within a very short period, not only did curricula have to be restructured and translated, but the entire country’s teaching staff had to learn English (no doubt imperfectly) so they could teach in it! It is also very hard on the current generation of students, who caught either the end of the French period or the beginning of the English one, or both, and either way did not come out fluent in the language of instruction of every university in the country. (I should emphasize that I am not criticizing the policy; it will show strongly positive effects in the long run, with the first generation being in a regrettably awkward position.)

I heard a little bit about this from my two new friends in the city yesterday. They are both enrolled in universities, all of whose classes are given in English. Their English is substantially better than my Kinyarwanda, but not hugely better. I can communicate with them in English by speaking slowly, but I have to speak slowly to really get a point across, and aside from basic vocabulary they have almost as much trouble translating words between the two languages as I do. The reason is that they were taught in French until about tenth grade, then had to abruptly change to English (which they learned from non-native speakers and in which they were taught by non-native speakers); now, after just two years, they are expected to take college-level courses in it!

I think one of them implied that they would want to practice their English with me. Given their situation, I really couldn’t say no. Anyway, they have been so helpful to me in other ways, between showing me around and making me speak Kinyarwanda.* It would make me happy if I could help them out a bit too.

New Vocabulary Words for the Day

1. umuriinzi: security guard

Vowels with an acute accent (e.g. á) have a phonetic high tone. Vowels with a circumflex (e.g. â) have a phonetic falling tone. Vowels with no accent have a low tone. Vowels that are doubled are long.

---

*That was a good place to end the post, I think, but I can’t pass up this opportunity to talk about how cool Kinyarwanda verbs are. Each verb, as in any other language, has a root—say, -vúg- “speak”— which combines with a prefix and a suffix to make the infinitive form of the verb: kuvúga “to speak.” The cool part is that, then, they have a whole bunch of suffixes that you can add that allow you to multiply the number of meanings you can get out of it. So kuvúgana means “to speak to one another”; kuvúgira “to speak for (someone)”; kuvúgiisha “to cause to speak”; kuvúguka “to be speakable”; and so on. And you can do that to any verb! Is that not the coolest thing ever?

(This was relevant because when they say, “We are making him speak,” it all comes out as one word—turamúvûgiisha—from that root given above. I like linguistics.)