Idioms!

Post by Lara

26 March 2014

We’ve spoken a bit on this blog about the language barrier we face here in Sierra Leone, even though English is one of the official languages and is the official language of instruction in schools. Still, the English spoken here is most definitely not American English, and doesn’t even closely resemble British English in a lot of ways (Someday we’ll show you guys a video of us speaking Sierra Leone English—it’s a bit embarrassing for us, but I hear it’s funny to watch).  Of course, anywhere you have a language barrier you run into the problem of idioms—some of them just don’t translate into another cultural or linguistic experience.  Below are some commonly-used American idioms and phrases that we’ve come to learn don’t really work here:

Use your indoor voice – We like to joke that in Sierra Leone, there are exactly two volumes: high, and off.  This is often true in spoken language, too.  We used to think people were fighting all the time, but as we mastered Krio and became more familiar with Mende and Salone culture, we came to realize that in a lot of cases, the people yelling are actually agreeing with each other.  The exception is when a person is asking for something—then, manners dictate that you speak quietly. Almost too quietly to be heard, much of the time. Still, whether one is speaking loudly or quietly has absolutely no bearing on whether they are inside or out—thus, imploring someone to use their “indoor voice” would just be met with confusion.

Good fences make good neighbors – Neighbors here are basically extended family, especially in multi-house compounds.  We, for instance, share a house with a family of 4.  The 2 sides of the house (parlours, bedrooms, and verandahs) are separated by a wall, but the back yard where we cook, do laundry, and spend our afternoons in the shade, is shared.  Thus, most of our days are spent with another family occupying a space that blends into our own.  Instead of “good fences make good neighbors,” folks here like to say, “gud neba bete pas fawe fambul” (a good neighbor is better to have than faraway family).  Kevin and I have found ourselves remembering the last two places we lived in the US, both of which had next door neighbors, all of whom we knew very little about.   The last house we lived in, we never exchanged words with any of the next door neighbors at all.  Now, on the contrary, we greet all 4 of the neighbors by name every morning when we wake up, and every afternoon coming home from school.  I’m fairly sure the American proverb would be lost on our neighbors here.

Skating on thin ice – As it turns out, when you live between 7 and 8 degrees north of the equator and within 200 feet of sea level, you don’t see a whole lot of ice.  The ice you do see is man-made, meant to be consumed, and melts about as quickly as the African sun hits it.  The concept of lawns covered in fluffy ice crystals that fell from the sky, or cars with a sheet of ice on them after a cold night, or a body of water whose entire surface could freeze over, is totally and entirely foreign to Sierra Leoneans.  Kevin actually tried translating the idiom once and all he could come up with was, “you’re standing on a thin stick”.  We’re not sure it registered.

That’s my name; don’t wear it out – I’ve found myself wanting to say this to people countless times over the last two years, especially when my name’s being shouted by a line of children who all want me to personally greet them, or people walk into the staff room while I’m grading papers and say, “Mrs. Flaute”…and then nothing else.  In the local culture, greeting people is important, so it’s more polite to interrupt someone to say hello than to leave them alone. Still, calling someone’s name is not technically a greeting—it’s more like an invitation for them to greet you, or an acknowledgement that they’re in the same room.  Either way, I’m fairly certain that names cannot be “worn out” here, so we smile and say hi and move along with our day.