A Final Word on Words

One happy kid with a totally messy "afoo." Bagels and cream cheese. Yum!

After he'd been home for a while, T came up with some Ethiopian words that either he'd been holding back on, or he just made some up, plus we learned a couple from a Sidamic vocabulary list we found. I've since found a much more extensive listing, but when I try those words out on him, he has no idea what I'm saying. It really is shocking how fast the first language has melted away.

Taffa: tush. As in him laughing at me, "Too big taffa," as I tried to ride his little scoot bike. Could be Sidamic, Amharic, or Teshale-speak. This one came into his vocabulary about three months home, so I'm not sure of its origin. He sure liked saying "taffa" though. Now he prefers "butt." He learns so much from hanging out with other little boys his age. I kind of hope "taffa" is a real word. It's fun being able to talk potty talk in another language. As for my taffa being "too big," hmm, maybe I need to up the ante on the diet and exercise.

Magano: sky -- according to Teshale. Pronounced mah-gah-no. This is definitely Sidamic, but in the word listing I saw most recently, the definition is given as "God." This listing came from a young boy who knew both Sidamic and English, so the question becomes: who is right? T doesn't seem to have any concept of God. But one day when we were outside on a rare sunny afternoon, T pointed up to the sky and said excitedly, "Magano! Magano!" He so loved teaching me his words -- at least the ones he remembered. It's possible that back home people would point to the sky when they talked about God, much as we do here -- even though I'm not sure why it was ever determined that God resided somewhere in the sky -- and T misunderstood what they were referring to. Or perhaps its actual meaning is "heaven," which lies somewhere in the middle between "sky" and "God."

Anga: arm. Sidamic or Teshale-speak. Pronounced ahn-gah. He quizes me on this word, "magano" and the word for leg all the time. He's waiting for me to forget. I keep up on my game though, although I have to admit I have forgotten the word for keys. Not that I was ever convinced that was a real word. I don't believe they had locks on their doors, and his first car ride ever was probably the one that took him to the orphanage in Addis Ababa, so how often he would have ever heard anyone referring to keys would be questionable.

Hangare: leg. Pronounced han-gah-ray, with a roll of the 'r'. Sidamic or Teshale-speak.

Moonde: boo-boo or owie. Pronounced moon-day. Sidamic. We learned this from another family. Supposedly it means blood, but he says "cut" when I say "moonde." Maybe he doesn't know the English word for "blood" and just gets as close as he can.

Gashe: Akin to sir. Pronounced gah-shay. An informal term of respect for addressing an older male. It could be used to address an stepfather, a much older brother, or a family friend. Either Sidamic or Amharic, although Teshale seems to have used it while living in Sidama. He called his uncle "Gashe." At first he explained that Gashe was his "new daddy" but then when he saw photos of the uncle we met in Arbegonna, he exclaimed "Gashe!" in excited recognition. This was the uncle who cared for him, but also the one who took him to the "big house" -- T's phrase for the orphanage. We watched the video of our meeting with Gashe recently, and he was very excited to see him, but told us he talks funny and he can't understand him.

Afoo: mouth. Sidamic. Pronounced ah-foo. This came off a list I got from a list-serv. When I asked him "afoo?" he looked at me in wonder and then pointed to his mouth. I screamed with delight that we had another word to communicate with. We also had the Sidamic word for foot in our vocabularly for while, but that seems to have escaped us both at this point.

Manca: fork or spoon -- or maybe both. Pronounced mahn-kah. Not sure if this is Sidamic, Amharic, or Teshale-speak. But he started using it fairly early on, while we flipped through books that are designed for babies, with photos of various objects. He was much more interested in those types of books than storybooks, probably because he didn't understand English enough to follow a story. I would name the objects in English, but he was very excited to be able to identify the fork and spoon for me as "manca" in his language. After a few weeks, I began having him try to name the objects himself. Slowly but surely he learned to name most of the objects. It was a bit tough trying to have him understand "seaweed" or "sand castle" when he'd never been to the ocean, or "pool" when he'd never seen one other than the one in our backyard that was covered in snow for the first two months he was home. Now he prefers storybooks, but every now and then he pulls out one of the baby books for a little spin down memory lane. He's especially good at the page with every type of vehicle imaginable, although he still doesn't get the concept of 'taxi.' I suppose that means we will just have to break down and take a trip to Boston or New York City next summer.

I have had no "ah-ha; I have to remember that word in my next posting" moments in quite a while, so we may truly be at the end of the list, which is sad, considering how much he chattered in Sidamic when we first came home. It was really cute to hear him holding conversations with his cars, and not understanding a word he said. Lately he's been singing an "eetchy-eetchy-eetchy" song, but we think that's totally made up since it didn't appear until long after he'd forgotten words that even I remember. Ten months ago we brought home a little Ethiopian boy. Now we have a totally Americanized kid on our hands who chatters endlessly in English. You wait and coach and prompt and hope and then one day you can't shut them up. And then you wonder if you should feel happy that they've learned English or guilty that they've forgotten their first language.