2-3-5
Those are prime numbers, and they represent the number of days since I began learning Haitian Creole #kreyolayisyen
The more I learn, the more I know how little I have learned. I’ll feel pretty confident talking with some of my teachers and friends, but then I have a few teachers who make it their business to burst that bubble. No, that is not right. No, that is not how we say that. No, that sounds like Google translate talking . . .
And so much of what I’m reading now in my materials assumes a deep knowledge of Haitian culture and history, so that a simple phrase like “tèt kale” turns into a discussion about Haitian leaders and how the phrase is used not just to identify them but to make a pèsonifikasyon.
After 20 minutes of these discussions I understand, but then there are so, so many of these small cultural/historical references in what seems like every adult conversation. In an hour tonight I worked through maybe five such phrases, including differences in nèg mawon and gran nèg that are not just attributes of the noun “nèg” (fellow, bloke, man) but also how the adjectives define a cultural tocsin where I would just know this if I were Haitian living in PP. (And even the use of “nèg” itself is a word of cultural sensitivity where “moun” would more commonly be used by etranje.)
I mean, golly.
But I’m in for the long haul. I’m able to converse — a little — in adult conversations. I bought a Haitian Creole New Testament because at least I’m reading a story that I already know, so it’s like cheating, a little. I am listening to highschool-level texts and while I’m almost always at sea, I can hammer out the meaning eventually.
Am I fluent? Oh of course not. But I’m way, way ahead of where I was on Day 1. And I’m only 24 hours away at any given time from the next day of learning.
I’m in the prime of my days. And I’m looking forward to tomorrow.