I think I’m becoming less American all the time.

I know that my English is suffering.

Maybe that’s not all bad.

My children who I have spoken to in four syllable words since birth are now
hearing me shorten everything to concise, simple word patterns.

When you speak African English mixed with Lubwisi many hours a day, it’s
hard to go back to more complex conversation on your off time.

I am surprised by a lot of aspects of the use of English here. There’s a
real art to speaking broken English in a way that is understandable by
tribal Africans who have learned English in school (remember, the offical
language of British colonized Uganda is English, despite the fact that it is
no one’s first language here). Many of the adults here speak no English,
some who have gone beyond the first four or five years of primary
(elementary) school, speak broken African English. A few speak English
well.

They understand words you wouldn’t expect, for some reason I haven’t quite
figured out (”the balance” - used for money remaining after a transaction at
the market; “remainder” for things that are leftover; “disturb” for
bother/annoy/interrupt). You learn quickly to use these types of words in
conversation, though perhaps you’ve never used them much before.

There’s also the interesting language phenomenon of a culture that was stone
age until about fifty years ago when Westerners first discovered this area.
I assume it is for this reason that words for more western items are all
variations on the English words, not real Lubwisi words. However, they are
enough a part of Lubwisi now that they consider them to be part of the
language. Clothing all falls into this category. “blouse” for shirt,
“skirtie” for skirts, “trousure” and “short trousure” for pants and shorts.
I’m also thinking of “boxie” for box, “gum” for tape, “skoll” for school.

At the same time, words that we don’t recognize are freely used as English
here, for example “lock up” and “dukha” are two types of village shops.

Phrases such as “how is it?” and “Is it coming well?” are helpful because
they correspond well with the sentence structure and line of thinking used
in such solicitous questions in Lubwisi.

The sounds and tones that their mouths are used to pronouncing, based on
Lubwisi, don’t always translate well for English use. For example, hat,
hot, and heart all sound exactly the same to the Babwisi, and when used by
them. We spent a long time discussing a “soap” business with a young man
who needed financing, before finally realizing that he was talking about a
“shop” business!! Even once we discovered what he meant he was not able to
discern between the two words! Of course we have the same issues with
Lubwisi and are occasionally embarrassed and often “bring cheer” because of
this!

You can’t take for granted that words will mean in this culture what you
think they might mean given your own, either. Does married mean that there
is a legal document, that there has been a ceremony in a church or that
rings have been exchanged? For many marriage occurs in God’s sight when the
parents meet each other and agree on the marriage and when the bride price
is payed. Years later, if finances allow, the couples may exchange rings in
a ring ceremony in their church. Many hope for this day.

It’s difficult to learn Lubwisi here, because you CAN survive on African
English. That should make it easier, but in practice it makes it more
difficult.