Languages I Have (Sort of) Learned—Final Episode: Bengali

 

Another door of opportunity opened for me—teaching in Bangladesh. When I announced my new teaching job to my family, they looked at me and asked, “Where’s that?” We have heard about Bangladesh on clothing labels, but it was another country we were not familiar with.

Upon opening an atlas, and after some research, I have learned that Bangladesh:

• The country is in the eastern part of India, close to Myanmar.
• It was earlier known as East Pakistan until the country fought for its independence (through civil war).
• It is largely known for its textile and cloth production.
• The religions are Muslim (89%), Hindu (10%), and Christians and Theravada-Hinayana Buddhists (1%).
• The language spoken is Bengali (also known as Bangla).

To prepare for my new job posting, I prepared myself by listening to Bengali language tapes just so I could familiarize with the language.

Soon the day came when I flew to Dhaka, Bangladesh, where other teachers like me were picked up at the airport and brought to an apartment in the capital city. The sights, sounds, exotic fragrances, and locals in their saris and other ethnic dress pressed into our senses.

I worked at a Canadian school in Dhaka for one school year as a prekindergarten teacher with another team teacher who taught in the next classroom. Being an introvert who steps back and watches her environment before joining in, it took me a few months to get adjusted to the overwhelming environment, not to mention the warm, humid climate. It took me a while, but I came to interact with some of the locals.

The staff at the school—those who managed, cleaned, maintained, and secured the school property. I was approached a few times with the question, “Sina?” (I later learned that they were asking if I was Chinese because of my East Asian features).

Because I taught in a Canadian school where we spoke English, I did not learn Bengali (or Bangla as the locals called it) as much as I would have liked despite my ten months living in Dhaka. However, I love the people there. The local staff who took care of the school building, the rickshaw drivers who became regular drivers (if not, guides) for me who took me to local shops, the Muezzin’s voice calling local Muslims to prayer, and those I have befriended during my stay (some who opened their homes to let me celebrate Eid with their families).

Would I want to learn Bengali properly? To be honest, I am not sure. But if God is willing, and I had another chance to meet those who have been kind to me during my stay, I would like to learn enough to say, “Thank you for all that you have done. Your generosity and kindness have been an encouragement to me while living in Dhaka. God bless you.”

Languages I Have Learned—Episode 5: Mongolian (Part II)

My weekly Mongolian helped me go to the market and purchase groceries by asking for bread, fruit, and other items I needed; although my phrases mainly comprised “Hello,” pointing to something and say “That, please,” and “How much?”

I was once told by a Mongolian friend, “You look Mongolian, except when you walk.”

I guessed she meant I kind of blended in—which I took as a good thing.

Because life in Ulaanbaatar was my first time living overseas, I had experienced culture shock on top of my languages learning.

“I missed the honeymoon season,” said my American roommate who shared an apartment flat with me. We both had to agree, the moment we set foot in the country with our individual opportunities (mine being a homeschooling teacher, while my roommate was there to learn the language) we immediately had to swim in the sea of culture shock. It was all or nothing—at least that was how it felt to me. However, I didn’t regret it. I made friends with the locals, and the kindness of my host family and another family I taught helped me with adjusting to my life in Ulaanbaatar.

Some memorable experiences included having a balcony as our walk-in freezer during the winter; discovering that Mongolian tugrik money bills smell like mutton, frequent visits of little roaches (how I hated those guys!), that the electrically powered buses stop in the middle of the only main street in the city and its patrons had to get off and walk (fortunately, most of the places were in walking distance); and tea leaves that were sold in solid blocks (I discovered much later that they had the similar blocks of tea leaves in mainland China). The food was greasy with foods such as fried khuushuurs (deep fried pockets of ground meat and vegetables), pizza with unique toppings (from pickles instead of olives and the occasional shredded carrots), and buuz (mutton dumplings that are fried or steamed). Beverages were undaa (beverages, usually soda, in old-fashioned squat glass bottles) and tsai (salty milk tea, which was a bit of a shock to those who taste it for the first time).

Despite these small delights, Mongolia was still rebuilding from after the Fall of the Iron curtain (this was in the early 2000, by the way). Soon news of Mongolian patriotism came with reclaiming their native writing, though some foreigners bemoaned this news.

“No! Not after all that work learning Cyrillic! And now they want to bring back the Soyombo writing!” I overheard an American foreign worker complain.

The Mongolians derived Soyombo script from Tibetan Sanskrit.

Meanwhile, as I continued with my teaching, my contracted ended at six months. It was a short overseas experience with a long winter that lasted the first four months of my stay. That last two months comprised a brief spring (about a month long) and a taste of summer. With warm weather, bright sun and colours replacing the winter greys, I left the country with a heart full of thankfulness to those who had shown me kindness.

Languages I Have Learned—Episode 5: Mongolian (Part I)

 

When I learned about a teaching opportunity in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, I took it thinking, “Mongolia shares a border with China, and since I learned Mandarin Chinese for a few years Mongolian should not be that hard.” Obviously I did not learn how different the two languages are until I arrived in the country.

I have never heard Mongolia spoken where I live (Alberta, Canada) other than a song that a friend from my Mandarin class introduced me to (when I think about it, the song was actually a song another Chinese dialect, not Mongolian). So when I first heard Mongolian spoken, to me it sounded like a combination of Russian and something else. Compared to the Russian I have heard on language tapes, Mongolia did not have the harsh tones and rolling r’s. Instead, it was much closer to an Asian language like Korean or Japanese than Chinese.

A Canadian missionary who hosted me in the country told me that Koreans and Japanese people could probably pick up Mongolian faster than North American speakers. The missionary and his wife learned the language by trying to find something common with the language they knew (English and biblical Greek). He told me he learned by matching some Cyrillic letters (used in Greek and Russian) and identified the sounds and worked from there.

When I arrived in Ulaanbaatar, it was 14 years after the fall of the Iron Curtain, Cyrillic letters were used in the Mongolian language—something carried over from the Soviet occupation (Mongolia was a buffer zone for the Soviets, which explained a lot of Soviet influences from buildings to some political values, and of course, writing).

The missionaries kindly introduced me to their Mongolian language teacher, a teacher at a local school, who taught me Mongolian. To my delight, I found it was easier for me (with a language background in Japanese).

Mongolian had a similar grammar system to Japanese (and, I was told, to Korean) so I just needed to remember where to plug in the correct Mongolian words to make a sentence. The part about learning Mongolian that was difficult were certain sounds: the rolling “r” (as we Canadians would say, “Rrrroll up the rrrrim to win”) and the exhaling “l” (you exhale as your tongue touches the roof of your mouth making a “hla” sound rather than a “la” sound). Imagine how much trouble I had just to say “thank you” in Mongolian (which is “bayal-hlah,” by the way). I think it took me a month or more just to get the sound right.

Despite the language mishaps (mispronouncing the rolling r’s and exhaling l’s), the minus 40 degrees (celsius) weather plus windchill (I lived in Mongolia during the winter months), and other things (did you know that tap water had hepatis A and B, so you need special filters or drink bottles beverages like pop or juice?); life in Mongolia was full of surprises.

Languages I Have Learned—Episode 4: Mandarin Chinese (Part 2)

    After, a positive experience in learning Mandarin Chinese for three years in high school I wanted to take the language course again. In my third year of university, I did, but with some challenges.

    Like I have previously mentioned in one of my previous entries, this time, Japanese interfered with my Mandarin learning.

    “You are thinking in Japanese, aren’t you?” my Mandarin instructor said with a grin.

    “How could you tell?” I asked.

    “Your grammar is not Mandarin.”

    I tried again; this time I was told I was using English grammar with my Mandarin Chinese. By the end of the course, I did not get as high a mark as I did in high school, but I still passed and graduated.

    Oh, and there was another reason I took Mandarin again in university: I had a teaching opportunity in Mongolia after graduation. Thinking that the Mongolian language shared something with Mandarin Chinese, I took the course. Later, I have learned that, again, the two languages were completely different.