Monday, February 26, 2018

English Vinglish

We are born naive. As we grow up we hear things, see things and pick up all sorts of stimulants from the world closest to us first, and thence from the wider world. We pick up our language depending on the environment we are born into. To pick up a language exposre is the key and earlier the exposure it is better.
I was born into a Sinhalese family and so I end up having Sinhala as my mother tongue. Though I write in English in the virtual space, for ease of typing along with many other reasons, if you meet me in person, I’d speak in Sinhala by default. I was taught English as a second language at school and was encouraged to learn and use it by well meaning parents, who saw that in his little island, knowing English does  make a difference.

For work matters, I visited few European countries, where English was not the main language. In fact, English really didn’t have any place in these countries. Initially I was surprised to learn that, English, which was held so high in a pedestal in Sri Lanka being ignored. In Sri Lanka, knowing English would be a jewel. But here, it meant nothing. And the few people who managed to converse in English was surprised to find that a brown skinned spoke fairly good English. So when they asked me how I came to know, I told them that how we, Sri Lankan’s were under the British, how knowing English made all the changes in social acceptance and bla..bla... and how English became a bridging language in our isle which suffered a 30 year old civil war.....how English is used to look down on and look up on people by the way they handle it...

An incident of particular worth was when I visited a small common wealth island. The military officer in this particular tourist destination led a group of twelve tourist, of which the majority was from England. The officer spoke fluent, impeccable English. At the end of the tour, he mentioned that he came to this island recently and one of the tourists asked where he is originally from.
The officer went on asking, “Did you think English is my first language?”
To which the British tourist replied, “No, you speak English very well, almost too well and gramatarically correct to be a native English speaker. So obviously you’ve learned it, not born into it”
The irony of these words stayed in my mind.
In the small island of Sri Lanka, the elitism is measured by how proficiently you handle your English, how impeccable your pronunciation is and how correct your grammar is and here a British National claiming the opposite, surprised me.


https://www.facebook.com/Arunalanie/posts/1221867054614060:0
I was inspired to write this version of language issues by this post by Trè Ventour and the spoken word on Button Poetry by Melissa Lozada-Olivia.

This is the first time I’m doing a remake kind of poetry, borrowing someone else’s muse.
So, apologies to the original poets, and if I am treading on any egg shells, please let me know
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My English

If you ask me, if English is my mother tongue,
I will tell you it is not...
but half of me wish it is...

It is the armor that you equip your child with
The immunity forged in dragons breath
The milk in a bottle,instead of mothers’ breast
The priced jewel you’d wear at your own death

It is the poison tree, planted in a land conquered...
The ladder lent, to trample the lesser kith
The bridge built, after they split my land, when they left
The silver spoon, the sword in the battle field of wealth

It is the boarding school with a British name
The suit and tie in the tropical noon and night
The wet mop that hides the dust
The fork and spoon amidst finger balls

If you ask me, if English is my mother tongue,
I will tell you it is not...
but half of me wish it is...

It is the sign of peace in the zone of death
The lipstick on my chapped lips
The escort till the nights end
My betrayal, my denial of my breath

©Lawanya

@treventour
http://treventour.com/2018/02/12/my-english-after-my-spanish-by-melissa-lozada-oliva/

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