Je Veux Qu'Il Revienne (I Want Him to Come Back): Memory Edition*

Title Song

Just a little further, almost there [other inspirational phrases like “I think I can” and “It’s the CLIIIIIMB!!!”] and…oomph! Thankfully, my physical therapy regimen has switched to gentler, longer stretches which have produced amazing results (2 extra cm of motion yesterday). No, that first phrase describes the Sisyphean agony of recall from long-term memory.

While in college, I enjoyed exploring foreign languages and science simultaneously. It felt nice to give my brain a break from studying pages of Organic Chemistry reactions to work on some création littéraire. Conversely, I enjoyed explaining the lac operon to students after a night of fitfully tussling with the gender/number accord of past participles followed by infinitives. Yes, the French language really is that pointilleuse (fastidious with shades of anal-retentive).

After my sojourn is this all-you-can-eat buffet of academia, I went on a foreign language binge for a year in Europe. J’ai parfait (I perfected) my French, built up my Spanish and learned some conversational German (Ich möchte ein Bier!). I then moved to West Africa with the Peace Corps and was asked to combine my previously disparate sets of knowledge into one harmonious presentation. The French came easily – dredging up the scientific details from the recesses of my long-term memory was far more difficult. As an exercise while home on break, I pulled out some notes from Organic Chemistry and Mammalian Physiology and was astounded that at one point I was capable of doing that work. Heureusement, I’ll be teaching middle school but it’s still nice to have a better idea of context that one’s students.

Now that I’m back in AmericaLand, I’m trying hard to maintain my language skills. Popular songs, conversations with friends, Facebook updates, newspaper articles and books all play un rôle important in this endeavor. I can still get caught up on little things – verbs that take different objects in English, using pronouns to the fullest extent. Finding materials for my local language, par contre, has proven far more challenging. Little written material exists and since most of Host Country is not on the Web, there aren’t a lot of sound files either. I’ve been reviewing my language notebooks but that a) becomes intensely boring after awhile and b) only does so much to jog my memory.

Local Language is certainly not boring. It’s a tonal language which deletes verb endings before direct objects. Par exemple, “Maam yũudame” (“I drink”) becomes “Maam yũuda bisap” (I drink bissap juice). It’s also heavy on the y’s, such as in the phrase for “Where are you from?”  “Yamb yita yɛ?” The consonants d and r are interchangeable at the beginning of the word. “Market” can be translated as “raaga” or “daaga” depending on the speaker’s home region and dialect. My language classmates and I used to exploit this property while reciting the “Buying things at market” dialogue for the fiftieth time. It paid off though, as I’ll be able to purchase virtually anything upon returning. I say virtually because off course I’ll head to my site and discover that we make some as-to-unheard-of wonder.

Remembering some of my favorite experiences from Host Country is becoming easier every day, as more and more of my stagemates download photos to Facebook. Most of the literature for future PCVs talks about the challenges you’ll face upon arriving and how the heat/bugs/food will matter less than connections. With a bit of distance from Host Country, my sensory memory recalls the sensations of sweat covering my clothes, of . But my souvenirs of great conversations with friends and getting to know people who led very different lives from myself hearken to me from afar, singing like humpback whales from the watery depths of ma vie jusqu’à présent (my life until now).

*Courtesy of Françoise Hardy, chanteuse extraordinare of the 1960s. This song talks about wanting a lost love back, even though you've suffered enough. Not the healthiest sentiment to have, but a very human one.