(Note: This post is a nerdy reflection on language, not an exciting recitation of recent events. You have been warned.)
I love languages—not necessarily the grammar or the literature part of a language (although I enjoy those too), but the nitty-gritty essential parts that make up the language. I enjoy learning the history of a language, how new words become incorporated into a language and how olds words change overtime. For instance, did you know that “a napkin” used to be called “an apkin.” Along these lines, I could see the word “another” changing in the future to “a nother.” How often have you heard someone say, “Well, that’s a whole nother story.”But, I digress.
It’s funny how living in a different-language culture can affect people with a different mother tongue. When studying the history of the English language, one learns how various countries’ invasions changed the language of both the host country and the invading country. Many new words entered the language in this way. Similarly, the missionaries’ dwelling in a different country has impacted their language. Among the missionaries here in Cameroon, various French words have become integrated into our daily English conversations with each other. Sometimes as I sit back and observe, as one who’s newer to this sub-culture, I feel like I’ve been given a small glimpse of how languages change overtime.
From my unscientific observations, here are several words that I have noticed have entered the Cameroonian missionary’s vocabulary:
Bidon—(n) a jug that holds approximately 20 gallons of water Bosch—(n) a tarp that goes on the back of a truck (namely a Toyota Hilux truck) Deranged—(v) to disturb, to be bothered by something (not to be confused with the English deranged meaning unbalanced or crazy) Petit marché—(n) the small market Puce—(n) the SIM card that comes in a phone
Let me clarify, we do not use these words to sound more intelligent or sophisticated. We use these words because they better convey what we want to say. In fact, we don’t even say these words with a French accent. These words have truly been adapted into our English language. Take for instance the word bidon (pronounced “bid-own’, rhymes with condone). All the missionaries in our area own several bidons to hold water in. In our house, our bidons are our only source of water—we own 9 and get them filled twice weekly. There really is no better word to describe our bidons. The term “water jug” just doesn’t cover the concept, especially since we have other containers that could fit the description of a “water jug.” But, say the word bidon, and everyone instantly understand which containers you are referring to.
Another interesting example is that of the verb deranged. The French verb is déranger. Notice, however, that I did not spell our version of the word with an accent mark. We missionaries have truly integrated this word over to the English language, pronouncing it as American as we possibly can. In regards to something that has bothered us, we would say that it had deranged us. We haven’t simply changed the pronunciation of this word; we have now changed the conjugation of the word, adding the past participle ending –ed to it, an ending that does not exist in French.
I could go into more detail with the other words I listed as examples, or I’m sure I could even find more words I have forgotten about. But, I fear that the post would become more nerdy than most people can handle. Having said that, if you’re still reading, thank you for putting up with one of my many idiosyncrasies and for patiently enduring this post! |
A Reflection on Language
