October 19, 2006

It is important never to underestimate the power of humor as an antidote — however temporary — to strife. The women at Bosfam are often a jolly bunch when they sit around talking together. Indeed, this levity is one of the key psychological benefits the organization provides for its members. So it is with some satisfaction that I can report I am doing my part to keep them entertained. This I accomplish primarily by trying to communicate. With a vocabulary significantly less developed than my boss’ two-year-old grandson, I manage to get my point across about one percent of the time.

Learning a brand-new language through immersion is an exciting experience, but one with some rather onerous start-up costs. Having made the investment myself, I can offer a few tips. It is important to suspend logic, as our logical perspective is frequently so embedded in our native tongue that we can’t properly divest ourselves of its trappings. For example, the word macka in Bosnian means cat. You might then think that the word Njemacka would also mean something to do with cats, broadly speaking. It does not. It means Germany. So tip number one is do not go around just adding to and subtracting from words you know in hopes of generating a new and situation-appropriate word, as this can only lead to trouble.

However, in some instances it can be helpful to embrace a reckless approach, particularly in the face of the completely unknown and seemingly unfathomable. Can’t get a grasp on the accusative case versus the genitive? Not a problem. Tip number two: Don’t be afraid to invent language learning games. The one I created for getting a handle on the various cases is called vowel roulette. It is not elegant, but then elegant is beyond reach just now. Run through the list of vowels, adding them all on, in sequence, to the nouns. There aren’t that many. You’re bound to get something close to right eventually and your colleagues will have something to laugh at.

Given my language limitations, it was with trepidation that I learned of my first assignment. Someone in Germany donated two knitting machines to Bosfam. This is the kind of largesse that can really bedevil a small NGO. The sentiment and the actual machines are most welcome. But the user’s guide is in English. So I was asked to translate it. Now, as any good language acquisition specialist will tell you, there is only one absolutely wrong way to go about learning a new language and that is to arm yourself with a dictionary published in 1963 and begin translating a technical manual.

I did not think it prudent, however, to respond to the first task I had been given by pointing out its futility. And I did not have the Bosnian language skills to explain that I was the poorest choice imaginable for the job. Let’s be clear. Part of the reason I went into law is that I have virtually no aptitude for handicrafts. Let me not bore you with recounting the household-wide suffering that surrounded my preparations for the county fair every year that I participated in 4-H. Suffice it to say that when I entered the crocheting competition, I received a pink ribbon. It is hard to convey the magnitude of this insult to the uninitiated, so I will not try. But you see the problem. I was determined, though, to redeem myself with the task at hand.

I have been speaking English for many years. This provided me with no assistance whatsoever in deciphering the user’s guide to the knitting machine. I finally hit upon a strategy to choose the most-repeated sentence in the manual, and at least make an attempt to translate the individual words within it. I began flipping through the pages and one sentence quickly emerged as the forerunner. This is the sentence: “Knit in pattern until you hear the sound Pee!“

I am officially giving up on this project, and I believe this may be one of the most valuable contributions I will make while I’m at Bosfam.