I stopped heating the water, and headed over to his office.
A whopping five-minute walk from my house. A female teacher sat waiting for me,
named Peace. Peace is a common Rwandan name so is Innocent, Michael Jackson,
and Beyoncé. I’ve met three Michael Jacksons, and two Beyoncés. One of which
lives up to her name perfectly. She is a D-I-V-A.
Peace spoke English perfectly, and wanted to tutor me in
Kinyarwanda. I agreed, and our tutoring lessons start next week. Meanwhile, I
have been practicing my tutoring with a man named Innocent. Innocent lives in
Nykigando, and bikes two hours one way to see me every Saturday morning. He is
an amazing teacher but far too expensive, and I cannot afford his prices
anymore. I broke the news to him yesterday, and he didn’t seem too upset. I
think the biking was getting to him.
As I am changing language teachers this week, and trying to
understand this god-forsaken language, I thought it'd be appropriate to educate on the joys of Kinyarwanda.
Kinyarwanda is a Bantu language. This means that it makes
little sense to people, like me, who grew up around Romance Languages, or Latin,
French, Spanish, Italian.
They do not put vowels together. For example my Rwandan name
is Mutesi, given to me by Mama Beyoncé and the other Mamas of Bushoga. No one can say Caitie. Notice
the consonant, vowel, consonant, vowel, consonant, vowel, combination in Mutesi. The ai combination,
and the ie combination in my name, Caitie, makes no sense in Kinyarwanda whatsoever.
So therefore I am Mutesi (Moo-tess-i).
Most words are one vowel or consonant off from each other.
For example: Umusazi (oo-mu-sazi), Umusozi (oo-mu-sozi), and
Umusuzi (oo-mu-suzi). Same word really, but each with a different vowel that
changes the meaning.
Umusazi = crazy person
Umusozi = mountain/hill – there is really no difference in
this country.
Umusuzi = a fart
I’ve messed this up many times, and have had roars of
laughter in return to my simple mistake. Saying: I’m going to the umusuzi
(fart), when I meant: I’m going to the umusozi (mountain), would be followed by
looks of confusion, then the realization of what I meant, and finally roars of
laughter. Also, this interaction sums up my first week at site.
Kinyarwanda also loves its noun classes. There are sixteen
of them. SIXTEEN. Noun classes are
different categories the noun is placed in, according to the subject it
pertains to. People, things, places, all are in different categories.
For example – the first four noun classes:
1.
People – for people we use mu – umugabo = man, umugore = woman, umuhungu = boy, umukobwa
= girl
2.
Plural of People – ba – abagabo = men, abagore = women, abahungu = boys, abakobwa = girls
3.
Things –
mu – umugati = one piece of bread, umutwe = head, umunsi = day
4.
Plural of things – mi – imigati = bread, imitwe =
heads, iminsi = days
This continues all the way through to noun class sixteen. The
others include: ri, ma, ki, bi , n, n, ru, aka, tu, bu, ku, and ha. Therefore the prefix of the word changes according to the category, as well as the adjectives, and conjunctions within the sentence.
Okay, so maybe this sounds simple, or not as terrible as you might imagine. Whenever I look at my nicely typed chart Peace Corps
gave us, I think: this is totally manageable.
Except when you're speaking, it is an entirely different ball game. So all the words in the sentence change according to noun class.
Example:
Abahungu babiri = two boys (2nd noun class - plural for people - ba)
Imigati mibiri = two pieces of bread (4th noun class - plural for things - mi)
Umudugudus habiri = two villages (16th noun class - places - ha)
So the word for two = kabiri (kah-be-ree), changes from babiri
(bah-be-ree) to mibiri (me-be-ree), to habiri (ha-be-ree). Depending on the noun class. Kill. Me. Now.
This is fine when I speak Kinya. Usually I get the noun
class wrong, then the person looks at me strangely, figures out the mistake I
made, and repeats the word with the correct noun class. But when the Mamas are
speaking rapid fire Kinyarwanda to me (see picture below), and kabiri sounds totally different then
what I memorized, I am usually forced to respond with a “simbumva” or I don’t
understand. My brain just cannot process the word forms changing that quickly.
 |
| The Mamas of Cyabayaga, who love to speak to me in rapid fire Kinya.
Then there are verbs. Conjugation. Which is okay, if it is
present, habitual present, or future. When it comes to the past tense I am lost, again.
|
Take, guteka or to cook, my favorite verb to conjugate in the
past.
First you add a prefix. You take the GU off of guteka and
add the following prefixes according to the conjugation:
Na – I
Wa- You
Ya- He/She/It
Twa- We
Mwa- You (Plural)
Ba- They
Add the prefix to teka, for example Nateka – I cooked,
Wateka – you cooked, and so on and so forth….but not really.
For the past tense you also have to change the ending. Which
is different from present and future in Kinya. So a verb ending in ka would turn into a tse. I don’t
know why, that’s just the way it is. And any Rwandan will tell you the same
thing.
So Nateka becomes Natetse, which is the proper form of I
cooked. And doesn’t look anything, or sound anything like guteka, the
original verb.
There are verbs ending in, ra, za sa, ya, ma, pa, ba and others I
am probably forgetting. All change according to the letter.
Gukora – to work
Ra changes into a ze
So….conjugate....
Nakoze – I worked
My days spent in Mr. Mooney’s Latin class seem so simple
now. What was I complaining about for all those years again?
Sometimes I think
I will never understand this language. Which is a possibility. Peace Corps pays
for us to have a tutor, and I will probably have one until I close my service, July 2014. There is a common phrase in Rwanda: Buhoro-Buhoro,
or little by little. I like this phrase. It is my friend, and many Rwandan’s
are either a) impressed that I know Kinyarwanda, even if it is only a little, or
b) say buhoro buhoro, and I take that as, “don’t worry you will get there
someday, just keep studying.”
So study I do.
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