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At the Heart of Culture

At the Heart of Culture

I am a firm believer in the link between language and culture. The daily vernacular can show as much, if not more, about a people’s beliefs, customs and perceptions as art or music.

“An lar” means “the center”

Americans are lucky; we share our language with several other countries while retaining our unique dialect. That patented American accent is the quickest way to find a kindred soul while abroad. While Ireland is in a similar position, the country has been working for the last 100 years to revive its native language, Gaelic.

And now, time for a history lesson with the man we all love to hate: King Henry VIII.

In 1541, the Irish Parliament passed a statute that declared good ol’ Henry the King of Ireland. The Irish nobility had given their allegiance to the King in order to maintain their titles, power and land. But, alas, allegiances are mostly just words, and as the newly Protestant England worked to impose laws upon the predominately Catholic Ireland, the English overlords ran into some trouble. So England tightened its grip. Eventually, the native Irish lords were stripped of their power, and Irish culture, language and law laid by the wayside. More Scottish, English and Welsh settlers moved to Ireland as English culture, language and law was enforced.

The next 200+ years saw English rise as the accepted language. Using Gaelic was looked down upon and even punishable at times. The late 1800’s, however, saw a push for the use of Gaelic as a cornerstone of Irish culture.  As Ireland gained more independence from Britain, the language found more of a foothold.

Another shot of Cork

Today, Irish students are all required to take Gaelic in some form. And I, being the cultural thrill seeker I am, am taking an intro class in modern Irish.

It’s different. Incredibly different. My safety net of Latin root words is gone. The words, so easily formed on an Irish tongue, sound strangled and clipped when I try to say them. And yet, I’m happy to learn. Its through language that we find the heart of a culture. I don’t expect to use it in everyday life, if at all, but it helps me decode my surroundings.

It’s something that many have fought for the right to speak. So even if I butcher it, I’ll give it my best go.

 

Bienvenue!

Bienvenue!

Bonjour tout le monde et je suis desolée pour le retard! Je m’appelle Marli, comme Bob (as the French tell me).  I am a rising junior at Loyola University Chicago studying anthropology with a minor in French studies. Who could possibly know what I’ll be able to do with that; but c’est la vie, vrai? Now, I am studying at Université de Pau et des Pays de L’adour (Université de Pau for short) as an international student (étudiants étrangers). This will be my second week here in the lovely, small city of Pau, France! To be honest, a lot of people don’t really know Pau exists. I live in the Aquitaine Region of southwest France, in what the French call: le département de Les Pyrenées Atlantiques (the Pyrenees). This petite ville (small city) is not well known to be full of tourist attractions but offers an array of beautiful scenery and a few famous castles. I recently visited le Chateau de Henri IV le week-end dernier (last week-end) and found myself absolutely speechless. This enormous castle stood against this beautiful backdrop of the Pyrenees like something out of a fairytale or Disney logo. From perfectly manicured bushes and landscapes, everything looked immaculate!

As far as language barriers go, I have had my share of unfriendly remarks and snickers because of my inability to speak French. I have also had university students call me “mignon” which means “cute” because they find my franglish endearing. I have to say that it is a bit difficult to try and salvage what little French phrases that I know because most French people aren’t very patient. For example, when I am checking out at the grocery store I usually greet le caissier with a “Bonjour” or “Bonsoir” depending on the time of day. Side note: It is not very acceptable to say ‘bonjour’ any time after 7 p.m. (even if it’s the only word you can think of at the time)! As I put my groceries into my bag, le caissier tells me the price of all my items. In my haste, I rambled in English and I repeated the total back to her, in French, to make sure I heard correctly. Apparently, you don’t do that. While I was reaching into my purse to look for my euros, le caissier immediately writes the total down on a piece of paper (like I didn’t see it on the register) so I’d have both a verbal and visual understanding. Her expression was bothered and she rudely gave me my change. I could feel that she didn’t want to be pestered with my less than accurate French speaking or my incoherence and “inability” to read a register screen. But this was only one encounter. Discouraged, I hadn’t tried to speak French while I went to the grocery store or to the small university mall. One day, two native French students told me to only speak to them in French whether I thought I would be wrong or right in my responses. So, I did. And guess what? I was told that I was not as bad as I made it seem. I was told that French people are no more confident with their English than foreigners are with their French. I made the mistake by inadvertently forcing le caissier to understand my comfort language of english rather than forcing myself to step out of my comfort zone and speak in hers. Since then, I have had nothing but pleasant experiences while shopping and going around about the ville. I have noticed that people are more amiable and helpful when I speak a little French than when I ask for help in English.