Language Differences

12 May

Besides Pritham, Bimla is the only other person with which I can speak English in Kharongcha. She is his sister-in-law, a 21 year old with two children. She learned in school and is one of the few villagers to have graduated from all 12 grades.


Bimla and her 1 year old daughter with me on the steps of Pritham's old home.

Our conversations are always scattered and broken, limited by her vocabulary in English and mine in Hindi. They usually begin with a focus on the fields; Bimla often says "I am grass, field", meaning she is soon going to work in the fields, pulling grass for the cows. She also usually looks at her hands and says, "My hands crack dirt from grass" and looks apologetically at the dark earth that is permanently implanted in the grooves of her large palms. "Oh, mmm..." I reply, as I look at my own hands, shinning white and clean in the sunlight. In those moments I feel my place as a temporary visitor more than ever, and it's all I can do not to push my hands into my pockets out of embarrassment.

Last time we chatted, we began to touch deeper topics, despite our language restrictions. We met in the field, I heading out of the village with my binoculars and bird book to watch the evening bird forage, and she with a basket on her back as she walked to pick grass for the cow's dinner. She commented on how hard she works and asked, as they often do, whether I cook and clean for myself in America. I told her that I do, and that I work hard in the park, so that my stays in Kharongcha are rest days. To her, who has probably worked every day of her life, my explanation must have sounded like a pathetic excuse for my inactivity. This may have led to her final remarks: "Here, Kharongcha, you fat...fingers fat. You go, come back, then thin." What??? I have not a clue what she was trying to say. Cultural and vocabulary differences create many such conversations.