Last week I wrote a bit about my journey through the maze of languages present in Morocco. I wrote about how moving from one language to another or incorporating, for instance, more French in Darija can change people's perception of you. As I reflect even more in these listless days of Ramadan, I realize that Morocco is not alone in this state of flux.
The debate is out on whether encouraging or allowing other languages or dialects to thrive foments dissension. If the country's administration is a control-freak, then it can certainly look that way, but if it applies a more laissez-faire approach, it may find that it has more to gain culturally and economically in the long run.
In my last trip to Europe, I found out that some parts of Italy and Spain are in a somewhat similar predicament to Morocco. When I visited my friends in Italy, I found out that although Italian is the predominant language of all Italy, there are a number of dialects that are widely spoken. My friend had just moved from the south of Italy to Rome and expressed difficulty understanding the Romans who he said were not speaking Italian but some sort of Roman dialect. When I hopped over to Barcelona, I was greeted with a mix of Spanish and Catalan. I found Catalan written on all the buildings, street signs, city maps, and restaurant menus alongside the Castilian Spanish (castellano) equivalent. At a party, I could speak Spanish to anyone there, but as soon as I'd finish the conversation, that person would turn around and speak Catalan to his/her friends. In Matarò on the Costa Brava near Barcelona in the Autonomous Region of Catalonia, I got to hang out with a Dominican family who had migrated there a little over 5 years ago. Their son who came to Catalonia at a young age told me that he was already fluent in Catalan. I asked him about his classes. I was curious to know about the effect of the reinstatement of Catalan as the official language of Catalonia on the educational system. He told me that he is taught every subject from math, sciences, and history in Catalan. He is taught Catalan as the primary language. Castilian Spanish still forms part of his core classes, but it is regarded as a second language only to be studied and used within that class. He also has the option of a third language as an elective for which he chose English.
His father who has been living there for over 7 years told me that he hasn't even attempted to learn it. His reasons are that everyone can understand his Castilian Spanish just fine and why would he learn a language that is only spoken in one region of the country. His sentiments sound similar to the Moroccans who can't understand why I have devoted so much time to Darija when it is only understood in the streets of Morocco and only vaguely understood in much of the Arab world. According to one of my Catalonian friends from Barcelona, he said that after the death of Franco--a fierce nationalist dictator who took over after the Spanish Civil War and went about repressing many dialects and languages while making Castilian Spanish the predominant tongue--a lot of dialects and languages have experienced a renaissance. It's unclear where this rebirth of languages will lead. It certainly changed my perception of Spain from a homogeneous Castilian Spanish speaking country as I was taught in primary school in Venezuela to what is really a linguistically heterogeneous country of many languages and dialects.
Like the Moroccans who feel more attached to their Rifian, Tamazight, Tashelheit, and other native languages, many Catalans feel that it is imperative to speak the language, to promote its use, to teach the language in school, and to gain recognition politically because the language is not just a tool for communicating, it defines who they are, what they believe, where they come from, and how they perceive the world--for a recent article on language and perception, check out this link from NY Times, Does Your Language Shape How You Think?.
From an economic standpoint, one could argue that it is a waste of time and resources to learn a language that is not widely used. I remember thinking back in high school that I wanted to learn French rather than German because according to my textbooks, there seemed to be more parts of the world shaded in as francophone countries than there were for German. I justified my choice thinking that it would be more likely for me to use French than German in my future professional career or for traveling. If I was to look only through that lens considering only the present state of things and disregarding the past and the future, I would posit to Catalans and to the Amazigh that indulgence in their respective languages is detrimental to their economic success. I would ask why they would push for use of a language when Castilian Spanish is the lingua franca in their country and in much of Latin America. I would ask some Moroccans why they would seek to teach Tamazight when nearly everyone around them speaks Darija and when the demand for French, English, or Spanish is growing as the country continues to liberalize their economy. From an outsider's point of view without much background on how Catalan and Tamazight had been suppressed, it would seem that those advocating the use of their language are living in the past and perhaps jeopardizing their future. What is difficult for many outsiders to understand is that they have a different view of the future shaped by their native language that sees new economic opportunities.
When I look at the debate through my own personal experience with my struggle to hold on to my native castellano, I can sympathize with their feelings. When our family moved back to the U.S., I was eager to learn English so that I could make friends and survive in school. I was only ten years old when we made the move. Fortunately, my brain at that time was in absorb-and-repeat mode rather than in need of conjugation or other grammar rules, and I was a lot cuter back then so mistakes were regarded as funny rather than potential offenses as they are sometimes perceived now. Consequently, as I learned more English and was surrounded by an anglophone environment I slowly began to lose the fluidity of my Spanish, and with it; I also began to lose a part of who I was.
One example that I think illustrates how my Spanish language upbringing shaped my perception is apparent in how I feel about the game of baseball. For example, when I first arrived to the U.S., I could narrate a baseball game in true Venezuelan fashion describing every movement and every finite detail in dramatic form giving every pitch, swing, steal, double play, and home run a plot that would crescendo to a climax and would conclude with commentary about the angst or elation that the player must have felt at the end of the play. Bear in mind that all of this is spoken at spitfire, breakneck speed--if you have the opportunity to hear a Spanish language broadcast of a Major League Baseball game, you'll see what I'm talking about.
The game of baseball takes on a different light in Spanish, and I was forgetting this. The Latin American Spanish narrating drives people to a frenzy while the U.S. narration of the game is slower, more relaxed, with lots of statistics, and definitely not as colorful. I totally understood why my girlfriend could not watch a game with me. In my mind, I still heard the voices of the broadcasters painting every play in typical melodramatic telenovela style.
When I go to a U.S. ballpark, I always feel something is missing. People would drink their beers at U.S. stadiums; in Venezuela, you bought some beers to drink and others to spray the crowd after every big play, most certainly after every home run, and even more so after a win. Even today, if I have the choice of a Spanish or English broadcast, I always choose Spanish. Why? Because to me, the frenetic Spanish language broadcast describes the game in such a way that it makes me reminisce to my days playing street ball in my old barrio neighborhood. The baseball game is the same for both the anglophone and Spanish-speaking public, but their views of the game, the passion, the anxiety, and the excitement are felt and exhibited in different ways.
I believe Catalans and Amazigh would feel the same way about their poetry, their music, and other means of artistic expression. Translating it would take away much of the beauty. Suppressing the language would be a form of suppression of expression. Having to describe their world in a language that originated somewhere else under a different environment and different social structure would perhaps distort, be insufficient, or incompatible with their current understanding under their native tongue.
Amazigh rights issue pits Moroccan Berbers against Islamists
Activists call for qualified Amazigh language instruction
As for language resources, if you plan to be in Catalonia, picking up a few words will earn you some brownie points from the locals. Colloquial Catalan: A Complete Course for Beginners (Colloquial Series)
Lastly, just to give you a taste of Venezuelan narrated baseball, check out this YouTube video of a couple of home runs hit by a couple of players from Los Leones contra Los Magallanes during the final playoff series:
The debate is out on whether encouraging or allowing other languages or dialects to thrive foments dissension. If the country's administration is a control-freak, then it can certainly look that way, but if it applies a more laissez-faire approach, it may find that it has more to gain culturally and economically in the long run.
In my last trip to Europe, I found out that some parts of Italy and Spain are in a somewhat similar predicament to Morocco. When I visited my friends in Italy, I found out that although Italian is the predominant language of all Italy, there are a number of dialects that are widely spoken. My friend had just moved from the south of Italy to Rome and expressed difficulty understanding the Romans who he said were not speaking Italian but some sort of Roman dialect. When I hopped over to Barcelona, I was greeted with a mix of Spanish and Catalan. I found Catalan written on all the buildings, street signs, city maps, and restaurant menus alongside the Castilian Spanish (castellano) equivalent. At a party, I could speak Spanish to anyone there, but as soon as I'd finish the conversation, that person would turn around and speak Catalan to his/her friends. In Matarò on the Costa Brava near Barcelona in the Autonomous Region of Catalonia, I got to hang out with a Dominican family who had migrated there a little over 5 years ago. Their son who came to Catalonia at a young age told me that he was already fluent in Catalan. I asked him about his classes. I was curious to know about the effect of the reinstatement of Catalan as the official language of Catalonia on the educational system. He told me that he is taught every subject from math, sciences, and history in Catalan. He is taught Catalan as the primary language. Castilian Spanish still forms part of his core classes, but it is regarded as a second language only to be studied and used within that class. He also has the option of a third language as an elective for which he chose English.
His father who has been living there for over 7 years told me that he hasn't even attempted to learn it. His reasons are that everyone can understand his Castilian Spanish just fine and why would he learn a language that is only spoken in one region of the country. His sentiments sound similar to the Moroccans who can't understand why I have devoted so much time to Darija when it is only understood in the streets of Morocco and only vaguely understood in much of the Arab world. According to one of my Catalonian friends from Barcelona, he said that after the death of Franco--a fierce nationalist dictator who took over after the Spanish Civil War and went about repressing many dialects and languages while making Castilian Spanish the predominant tongue--a lot of dialects and languages have experienced a renaissance. It's unclear where this rebirth of languages will lead. It certainly changed my perception of Spain from a homogeneous Castilian Spanish speaking country as I was taught in primary school in Venezuela to what is really a linguistically heterogeneous country of many languages and dialects.
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| Flag of Catalunya |
From an economic standpoint, one could argue that it is a waste of time and resources to learn a language that is not widely used. I remember thinking back in high school that I wanted to learn French rather than German because according to my textbooks, there seemed to be more parts of the world shaded in as francophone countries than there were for German. I justified my choice thinking that it would be more likely for me to use French than German in my future professional career or for traveling. If I was to look only through that lens considering only the present state of things and disregarding the past and the future, I would posit to Catalans and to the Amazigh that indulgence in their respective languages is detrimental to their economic success. I would ask why they would push for use of a language when Castilian Spanish is the lingua franca in their country and in much of Latin America. I would ask some Moroccans why they would seek to teach Tamazight when nearly everyone around them speaks Darija and when the demand for French, English, or Spanish is growing as the country continues to liberalize their economy. From an outsider's point of view without much background on how Catalan and Tamazight had been suppressed, it would seem that those advocating the use of their language are living in the past and perhaps jeopardizing their future. What is difficult for many outsiders to understand is that they have a different view of the future shaped by their native language that sees new economic opportunities.
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| Singing English with El Cuatro would sound a bit discordant |
One example that I think illustrates how my Spanish language upbringing shaped my perception is apparent in how I feel about the game of baseball. For example, when I first arrived to the U.S., I could narrate a baseball game in true Venezuelan fashion describing every movement and every finite detail in dramatic form giving every pitch, swing, steal, double play, and home run a plot that would crescendo to a climax and would conclude with commentary about the angst or elation that the player must have felt at the end of the play. Bear in mind that all of this is spoken at spitfire, breakneck speed--if you have the opportunity to hear a Spanish language broadcast of a Major League Baseball game, you'll see what I'm talking about.
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| This play by the great Omar Vizquel would most certainly bring a shower of beer |
When I go to a U.S. ballpark, I always feel something is missing. People would drink their beers at U.S. stadiums; in Venezuela, you bought some beers to drink and others to spray the crowd after every big play, most certainly after every home run, and even more so after a win. Even today, if I have the choice of a Spanish or English broadcast, I always choose Spanish. Why? Because to me, the frenetic Spanish language broadcast describes the game in such a way that it makes me reminisce to my days playing street ball in my old barrio neighborhood. The baseball game is the same for both the anglophone and Spanish-speaking public, but their views of the game, the passion, the anxiety, and the excitement are felt and exhibited in different ways.
I believe Catalans and Amazigh would feel the same way about their poetry, their music, and other means of artistic expression. Translating it would take away much of the beauty. Suppressing the language would be a form of suppression of expression. Having to describe their world in a language that originated somewhere else under a different environment and different social structure would perhaps distort, be insufficient, or incompatible with their current understanding under their native tongue.
When the repression of the Catalan language was lifted, Catalan re-emerged and its emergence did not dampen its economic prosperity; quite the contrary, Catalonia was and continues to be one of the most affluent of the Spanish autonomous regions. Catalan literature, poetry, radio, film, newspapers, and other forms of media came out into the open and were welcomed by the Catalonians. The absence of Catalan print was a suppressed demand. Could this also be the case for Tamazight language? It could very well be. So actually from an economic point of view, it may be that promoting Tamazight may have the effect of generating more domestic economic activity as the local population now has media that speaks to them and speaks for them.
If I had a vote in this matter, I would vote for both the Catalonians and the Amazigh to continue to promote their languages. Variety is the spice of life. I don’t think Tamazight is confusing the kids. It’s probably confusing them now because the pedagogy, still in its inception, is confusing, but in time, a sound curriculum will be developed, inchallah. Differing worldviews and forms of expression are needed and I believe there is plenty of room for them in our global village.
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Here's some additional reading from Maghrebia, a tri-lingual online news portal on everything Maghreb, that speaks to the struggle of Amazigh in gaining recognition.
Here's another article. This one comments on the drive to improve the pedagogy of Tamazight.
As for language resources, if you plan to be in Catalonia, picking up a few words will earn you some brownie points from the locals. Colloquial Catalan: A Complete Course for Beginners (Colloquial Series)
Lastly, just to give you a taste of Venezuelan narrated baseball, check out this YouTube video of a couple of home runs hit by a couple of players from Los Leones contra Los Magallanes during the final playoff series:
