Reptile Routine

Extending circles of friendships for newly arrived foreign students proves priceless, over time.  Stewarded well, the practice can translate into treasured relationships. It’s been noted that a Houston professor researching the matter arrived at a remarkable finding.

When a local resident extends kindness to an international student in a meaningful way within the first 72 hours of the newcomer’s arrival, a lifelong friendship can well have been launched.

My wife and I resonate with stats like these, having drunk deep from the wells of hospitality at the hands of local residents upon our maiden arrival to Africa.

In mere moments of our friends Carl and Annette swinging open their door in welcome to my friend Constant, the space in their cozy residence was ringing with hospitable cheer. Is it any wonder, given the needs and the makeup of we human creatures, how soon authentic friendships among us can bud, then flourish?

Lingering a moment at the apartment door, I took in the surroundings and wondered how many stories lay past the many other student housing doors. My good-humored, keen-minded, bespectacled friend from the Far East greeted me in what had by now become a predictable norm. A cheery grin seemed to mark his countenance at every turn.

Waiting outside his door, I had already begun scanning my brain for a specific kind of word or phrase for this fun-loving Chemistry major.

In the experiment of figuring out ways to help students get a better handle on the English language, I had recognized a robust interest among some scholars over our common American slangs or idioms. My student friend was, I discovered, not merely interested in the world of slang. Constant grew such an appetite for new expressions he inaugurated a kind of game. We were not to part company following any of our sessions without my having left behind a fresh new idiom to take its place inside his ever-expanding slang storehouse.

This Tuesday afternoon, having wrapped up our regular conversational time in the New Testament, Constant hit me with the reminder, “So Jerry, what slang do you have for me today?”

“How about this, Constant. . .”

I coached him then on a common back-and-forth dialogue featuring reptiles as the theme. From that day onward, no conversational session was complete without a shared parting refrain,

“See you later, Alligator. . .”

“After while, Crocodile!”

©2023 Jerry Lout

Constant Gains

We know of people who opt to change their proper name. Visiting the United Kingdom, I am sometimes tempted to tweak my surname. Hardly any of our British friends would think it a compliment being called a lout.

A few days after tackling my new duties on campus, I met a delightful student from East Asia.

“Hi, my name is ‘Constant’”, he smiled.

“Happy to meet you, Constant. I’m Jerry”. The introduction marked the start of a rich friendship. A couple days passed. My phone rang.

“Hi Jerry, it’s Constant. Do you have a minute?”

In time I learned the rationale behind my new acquaintance’s name change. Realizing his given name might prove tough for some Oklahomans to pronounce and wishing to take on a name reflecting his ambitions as a student, he simply landed on Constant. Staying focused and constant – not getting distracted or sidelined from studies. Things he knew were called for in his engineering pursuits. Makes sense! I thought.

“Sure”, I responded to his request over the phone, “what’s up, Constant?”

After a short visit, which included suggesting a few tips to ease his concerns over navigating English with a certain professor, I offered that Constant and I begin weekly meetups for conversational practice. He liked the idea.

I suggested two o’clock the following day.

“Yes, that time is great. At my apartment!”

Carrying forward with the Tuesday sessions over the next three years, our friendship grew. It was gratifying, making my way week-by-week to Constant’s apartment, seeing his second-language skills excel month after month. The English reading exercises we tackled featured an uncommon (for him) curriculum resource.  Opening the New Testament week by week, we took in a narrative, then another – Tuesday after Tuesday – from the life of Jesus.

©2023 Jerry Lout

In A Manner Of Speaking

“La!”

The roundish, baldish, gruffish language tutor prided himself in his home area’s version of the Swahili language. After all, his was the Coast Swahili variety. Only Kenya’s neighbor to the south, Tanzania, could compete with the gold standard Swahili spoken along the teacher’s Indian Ocean region. His voice was raspy, making him seem harsher than he really was. His sudden “La!” (No!) was instantly followed by a terse scold, “Up-country Swahili!” With little patience for poorly-spoken words, the aging gent spat out the phrase as if evicting a live wasp from his mouth.

It was through this mwalimu mzee (elder instructor) I first caught the need to communicate well in another culture. This was further driven home once our stay in the Capital ended. Through a much-loved missionary headmistress whose wrinkle-teased eyes constantly twinkled and whose tongue offered up wisdom and wit by the kilo. . . “I believe I understand what you think I said, but I’m not sure that what I said is what you thought I meant.” A sampling of Elizabeth Ridenour’s way of making the point.

Some places are not the best for a native English-speaker to learn the Swahili language. Nairobi was one of them. A recommended, though challenging way, to master a new language is through a method called immersion learning. Learning by immersion happens when everybody around the student understands and speaks the desired language, but do not speak the student’s language. A sink or swim approach.

By the time most Nairobi kids reached adolescence they were fluent in two or more languages. And with English the nation’s official language – in government-sponsored places like post office, secondary schools and parliament – young people thirsted to know English. During my language school months, the moment I tried bumbling through half a sentence of Swahili in the company of a teenager, the youngster was already responding in crisp, fluent English.

Meaningful practice of the African dialect outside the classroom was rare.

I was dead set on communicating well – as Mwalimu Mzee insisted. With proper ‘textbook grammar’, exact pronunciation. . . Coastlike. That was my aim. And I must not yield to the great linguistic sin – any use of upcountry Swahili.

Months passed. Classes ended. The Mission assigned us to a remote station hundreds of miles further inland from the Coast. How would my textbook Swahili do. . . there in the place we were to live and serve?

Upcountry.

©2017 Jerry Lout