ADVENTURES WITH LANGUAGE

At this time of the year as children return to school, there may be new students from other countries in the class. Some will understand English very well. Others find it difficult. Be kind, not laughing when they make mistakes.

Recently a young boy from Pakistan asked me, ‘ Did you went to Singapore?’ I asked if he would allow me to explain the question correctly.

‘Oh, yes,’ he answered. ‘Please tell me what to say.’

So I answered, ‘ Karon, you should say, ‘Did you go to Singapore?’, and I would reply,’ Yes, I went to Singapore.’ He continued, ‘Always tell me if I say things wrongly. I want to speak correctly.’

Kindness is like a key to a door that opens a friendship so that you can help others, like Karon, so that you appreciate children from overseas.

In Surabaya , East Java, Indonesia, we set off to a Government department to apply for travel permits, as we were new-comers to the land. With six of us jammed into two betjaks, the Indonesian pedi-cabs, we passed the oxen carts with their jingly neck-bells as the oxen loped along. Cars swished by as the betjak peddler circled a garden of red and orange hibiscus, and colourful flame trees.

We paid our fare as we arrived at a large Government building, and walked inside where a clerk welcomed us at the reception desk.

‘May I speak with the ‘kelapa’?, asked father, in Indonesian, as we stood behind him. The clerk hesitated.

‘ Again father spoke, ‘ Please may I speak with the ‘kelapa’?, he repeated, as the clerk respectfully covered the smile on his face with his hand.

‘I think you are mistaken, asking your pardon, sir.’ And while explaining that he did not remember the man’s name, father asked again for the ‘kelapa’.

By this time, our son began to laugh at his dad’s request, because the clerk was too courteous to correct someone from another country.

John came to the rescue. ‘Dad, I think you are using the wrong word. Kelapa means ‘coconut’ , and you should say ‘kepala’, meaning the head,. and we all burst into laughter, including the clerk, and father.

Later I visited a little wayside shop , with its thatched roof, a shelf with jars of rice, betel-nut, chillies, dried fish and onions. I offered money to the owner for my six packets of matches. But he laughed till tears ran down his Chinese cheeks. Then he explained to me,

‘I think you want enam korek api,’ he said with a smile. ‘But you asked me for ‘enam kereta api’, which means six fired railway trains.’ You will agree there was a difference, and I am glad that the man helped me with the language.

One of my Indonesian friends assured me that her ‘couch’( cough ) was greatly relieved. And I almost disrupted the Youth Group when I invited them ‘Selakan menangis ‘ ( please cry ) instead of ‘selakan menyanyi’ ( please sing ).

Language may bring laughter, pleasure, sometimes confusion, or embarrassment. But there is One whose perfect language we understand. God is the Author of the Bible, which speaks to all people of all nations, so that all may understand that He said, ‘ I have loved you with a love that never ends.’ And these words are for every language in the world, and every nation.

So be kind and thoughtful, helpful and encouraging to those new-comers to our land. Be their friend, so that you can help them, and tell them that God loved them.

Gwenda would love to hear from you. hgsteward@cobweb.com.au