TAKING I-LANGUAGE YAKHE SERIOUSLY KWAMZOLI
Tessa Dowling

The Sunday Independent
December 2 2007

Sometimes the only thing that can make a darkie laugh is a whitey. S'true. Like the night we were all sitting at Mzoli's, so zantsi (south - ie, down), so tired, so depressed we could hardly raise the glasses to our drooping lips. Then in walked Thomas, the German, and greeted us all enthusiastically: "Mol-way-ni, nifilile?" (Xhosa: Hello, are you dead?)

"No, no, bhuti, not 'nifilile'!" corrected Sis' Dudu, politely smothering a giggle. "You mean, 'Niphilile?' (Xhosa: Are you well?)"

"Oh? But vy is ze spelling zen mit ze P-H as in 'phone'?"

He sat down heavily, depressed at being corrected on his first attempt.

"Bhuti, tell me, where are you learning your Xhosa?" asked Sis'Dikeledi sweetly. As a Sotho she would also have liked to attend (advanced) Xhosa classes, but never admitted it to anyone, particularly not a Xhosa.

"I am learning it from Professor ... ." We knew by the way he was scrunching up his face that he was going to pronounce a difficult Xhosa sound. Nastily we watched him flounder over the click that was coming.

"Professor Q ..." as he made the click his eyes bulged and his mouth looked like it was being sucked inside his throat, "Professor "Qi ..." He was spluttering now, and going purple, but getting there. "Qiqi ..."

"Emella morao! (Sotho: Stand back!)" Sis' Dudu leapt up to get out of the likely trajectory of Bra Thomas' spit, holding her bag in front of her.

The second click came out like a "k", but, what the hell, you had to give the guy credit for trying.

There was a round of applause - and, I am afraid to say, hysterical and slightly mocking laughter. Sis' Lulu was laughing so hard she seemed to be wheezing through her nose. Only Kagiso, the well-mannered Tswana, offered an encouraging "Masego! (Tswana: Congratulations!)"

"Now tell me, Thomas," Bra X put his arm around our German traveller in a kind, fatherly gesture. "What else have you learnt to say in Xhosa?"

"Vel, I can say ze following: Ndibona uqikelelo lwemozulu kumabonakude. (I see the weather report on the television.)"

Anathi, Bra X's young cousin, had just joined us at the table.

"Hey, German sounds a bit like Xhosa! It's, like, SO sweet!" She enthused like only a girl brought up in a shopping mall could.

"But zat VOS Khoza!" Shame, Bra Thomas was only on page 1 of the clicks with Professor Qiqimana.

"Nyhani? (Xhosa: Really?) What is uqikelelo lwemozulu?" Anathi, being a bit of a coconut (dark on the outside, but white inside) also seemed to struggle a bit with the click.

"The weather what-what," offered Sis' Lulu.

"The weather nantsika (Xhosa: whatchamacallit)". Bra X knew he knew, but his mind was blank.

"Uqikelelo, uqikelelo ... eish ... it's, um, wait, yes, i-report!" Sis' Dudu shouted triumphantly.

"Owukeyi!" Anathi closed her eyes and dribbled the idea around in her head. "But if you talk like that in the township, no one will understand you. Like, saying uqike-what-what for report and umabonakude for TV is, like, soooo 20 years ago, hey. I mean, puh-LEEZ!" She rolled her eyes disrespectfully, making the hackles of the gathered Xhosa elders rise.

"So vot vud you say?" Bra Thomas took out his little notebook marked, "Meine neue Sprache (German: My new language)."

"Heyi, what would I say?" I could see Anathi really struggling to find the Xhosa for that simple sentence. She was obviously not going to make a career out of simultaneous interpreting.

"I would say, 'Nditsheka i-weather report kwiTV.'" She moved her head cheekily on top of her neck and blinked her eyes.

"So how would you spell 'i-weather'?" Bra Thomas was scribbling furiously.

"I...W...E...T...H...A." Anathi's delicate middle finger was writing the letters on the condensation of her glass.

"IsiXhosa sakho sibi, my baby." (Your Xhosa is terrible, my baby.) Large Sis'Thandi had joined the table and was holding her left boob with her right hand. Whenever Sis' Thandi cupped her boob in her hand we knew she was agitated. And this time the offence was clearly young Anathi's disregard for linguistic purity.

"Indela o-abuse-a ngayo i-language yethu, sizo-end-up-a thina sonke sikumshe!" (The way you abuse our language, we are all going to end up speaking a foreign language!) Sis' Thandi let go of the left boob and scratched her right boob (a clear sign that she was set for a serious fight), glowered at Anathi and dragged a chair up to our table, squeezing herself in between the two alpha males of the group, Bra Thomas and Bra X.

"End-up-a, end-up-a .." Bra Thomas was flipping through his Xhosa dictionary and running his finger down the words that started with e-. "I don't see 'end-up-a' here.

"No you wouldn't," smirked Anathi, "because Xhosa dictionaries are written by people who don't hang out in the townships". She turned to Bra Thomas and slightly flirtatiously informed him, in her best kugel English, "Thomas, sweetheart, 'end-up-a' is a lovely Xhosa borrowing from the English phrase "end up", which, as far as I know, is also difficult to translate into German."

Everyone started shouting, but even the most linguistically reactionary seemed to be using an English word or two.

I heard phrases like:

"Wena suku-overdo-a i-advice yakho! (Don't overdo your advice!)" Phrasal verbs are obviously easily imported into Xhosa, I mused.

"Awukwazi ukuthetha like this xa u-formal. (You can't speak like this when you are formal.)"

"Uleyizi! (You are lazy!)

"AbeSuthu bawhes!" (The Sothos are worse.)

My favourite was Sis'Thandi, who clearly didn't practise what she preached: "Ndifuna uku-ekspleyina i-importance yokusebenzisa amagama esiXhosa a-good. If ndimamela umntu esebenzisa i-English all the time, then ndiyayazi that lowa, akakho serious about i-culture yakhe. (I want to explain the importance of using good Xhosa words. If I listen to a person using English all the time, then I know that s/he is not serious about his/her culture.)"

I met Sis'Thandi in the ladies much later on that night. She was putting some cream on her face. "Hi, sweetie!" She seemed in a very good mood. "Ndiyaphonza (Xhosa: I am putting on Ponds - ie, skin cream) because that sweet Thomas wants ME to teach him Xhosa now. Kufuneka ndibe mhle for yena because at least uyayazi ikwaliti when he sees it. (I must be beautiful for him, because at least he knows quality when he sees it.)"

Tessa Dowling is i-director of i-African Voices, a company that makes ama-multimedia materials for the teaching and learning of ama-African languages ethu.