oh, for a thousand tongues...

Most of us Westerners were brought up in mono-lingual families, and we tend to forget that many people in the world grow up being familiar with two or more languages. When the four of us were back in Europe, people were often fascinated by our boys' bilingualism. That didn't bother us at all, except Simon who insisted that he actually spoke three languages, but when we're out here in Benin we're just like everyone else who speaks two or more languages on a day-to-day basis. Esther, who worked for us in Parakou, speaks at least 6 languages relatively fluently, and has even been picking up some Monkolé from us!

As the name of my blog says, I like to think we are at least try-lingual! Our Monkolé is getting better, though we still have bad days where it feels like the language is an express train speeding through the station where we're waiting, and we have no hope of catching onto it!

As a family, we're used to being bilingual by now. Simon never speaks anything but English to me, or French to Marc, except as a joke. Benjy still mixes the two, but is beginning to separate them out and speak more English to me and more French to Marc. If I say to him, “What do you say to Papa?” (when Marc has given him something) he will say, “Merci, Papa!” and vice versa.

We are very OPOL – One Person One Language – which leads to funny conversations sometimes. We parents don't always register which language is being spoken, but Simon is very indignant if one of us answers when he is speaking to the other parent. So the conversation can go:

Simon: Tu peux m'aider, s'il te plaît?
Me: Yes, hold on a moment, I'm just coming!
Simon: I was talking to Papa!!

This also means that it is difficult for Simon to address us both at once, not that this particularly seems to cause him problems. I was amused once in the car when Marc and I had just been singing something, and Simon said, “Tu peux encore le chanter s'il te plaît and you can sing it again, please?” I noticed once recently though, that he started a sentence, “Mummy? Papa?” and then carried on in English when he wanted to say something to us both. He knows we both understand both languages!

That said, I usually speak to Marc in French, and if I say anything to him in English, Simon is likely to ask, “Mummy, why are you speaking to Papa in English?”

For a while I had hoped that Marc and I might be able to speak to each other in Monkolé if we wanted to keep things secret from the boys (who do know some Monkolé, but not as much as we do). For a long time though we found we just didn't understand each other, which was rather discouraging (not to mention a waste of time!). This week I decided to try again. Simon had had a bit of a temperature, had taken some paracetemol and half an hour later got up from the sofa and came to the lunch table to eat some chicken. I asked him if he was feeling better and he said no. Watching him tuck into his chicken I said to Marc in Monkolé, “Despite what he says, he's feeling better!” and Simon replied in English, “No, I'm not feeling better!” … so I guess his Monkolé is improving, and that parental strategy is a dead loss!

We aren't sure how fluent Simon will become in Monkolé, particularly now that he is spending mornings at school in French and therefore has less contact with Monkolé-speakers. His best friend, Benja, has completed a year of school and now only wants to speak to him in French – which does at least mean they can communicate better than before! We'd like Simon to understand Monkolé simply to avoid church being meaningless and boring, but we just don't know to what extent that is going to happen.

People in the village used to laugh at Simon because whenever they tried to speak to him in Monkolé he would just reply “Aawo!” (which means “no!”). However, now he's picked up a bit more, he will reply more sensibly to their questions … and that just makes them laugh even more, to hear a little white boy speaking their language. So it's a bit of a lose-lose situation for him!

Benjy is looked after the pastor's wife while I'm at work in the mornings, and she only speaks to him in Monkolé. I'm a little unsure if this is the best way to do things when it comes to disciplining him, but then it isn't as if he understands French or English when he doesn't want to! At any rate, it does mean that he has more of a chance of ending up fluent in Monkolé, and will probably end up cringing at his parents' accents and messing-up of tones. We'll see...

Well, it is hard to find a photo illustrating bilingualism, so I won't even try! Instead, here I am with my two lovely bilingual boys: