Multiculturalism

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Bridging the Interpersonal Gap

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Bridging the Interpersonal Gap 

The Education of a Field Interpreter

The Bridge from Biloxi

Mr. Mitchell, the tall, soft-spoken southern gentleman, checked his watch and looked up at the approaching storm clouds. Having had an illustrious career as a civil engineer, he was dedicating his time and expertise to international development work as the president of the Mississippi Gulf Coast chapter of Engineers Without Borders (EWB). The group, after the successful completion of a well digging project in southern Zambia, now turned its attention to building a much-needed bridge in the small, rural community of Boca de Cuiria, Panamá. To put this into perspective, this is a community of 150 people surrounded by rivers and governed by the rain – a community that I called home. You see, for two years, I lived in Boca de Cuiria serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I worked alongside the people of this community, learning their language and culture, and getting to know them on a personal level.

“Ah yes, this must be the village elder,” Mr. Mitchell proclaimed as my bumbling, octogenarian neighbor Tomás tottered past us towards his house, intent on a long afternoon nap in his hammock. “Tell him to fetch as many horses as he can. We must be out of here before the rains come.” I knew that Tomás had neither horses nor any sort of authority. In fact, there wasn’t any real organizational structure at all in Boca de Cuiria, just 30 households subsisting off the land. The community had no “village elders”, however, these stereotypes of rural communities in the developing world continue to bedevil the field of international development, impeding the implementation of sustainable solutions. But on this particular day, I was acting as an interpreter for Mr. Mitchell and the other engineers so, I diligently relayed the message. Tomás Villareta looked at me wide-eyed and confused.

In order to ease Tomás’s growing stress level, I decided I had better add, “Está bien, Tomás. No se preocupe…” (“it’s alright, Tomás. Don’t worry about it”).,  Tomás let out a sigh of relief, and promptly walked away in the direction of his hammock.

From my humble experience, an interpreter must be more than just a linguistic expert since the language barrier is only one of the challenges to  overcome. The keys to being a good interpreter are cultural competency and interpersonal skills, which allow you to communicate across cultures and bridge the interpersonal gap. Fundamentally, interpreting is about bringing together people from different cultures and ensuring mutual understanding on an interpersonal level, replacing cultural barriers with global connections.

The Interpersonal Gap

If we are to examine interpreting through the lens of interpersonal relations, we must turn to John L. Wallen. An almost mythical figure in social psychology, Wallen dedicated his career to understanding the processes and malfunctions of communication. True to his principles, but lacking in pragmatism, Wallen refused to publish his works, believing that “if his ideas [were] useful, they [would] spread through personalized channels of communication.”1His main contribution to the field of psycholinguistics is the theory of the interpersonal gap, which refers to the “lack of congruence”2 between the intentions of a speaker and the effect on the listener.

 

A graphic that explains John L. Wallen's Interpersonal Gap

 

(Source: Wikimedia Commons: Interpersonal Gap)

 

A basic conversation between two people consists of the following steps:

Step One: A private intention arises in Person 1.

Step Two: To communicate this intention to Person 2, Person 1 must encode that feeling into words.

Step Three: These words are then spoken out loud, accompanied by tone of voice and body language, becoming public.

Step Four: Person 2 receives those words and must decode them based on their own unique lived experience.

Step Five: Person 2 is impacted by the words of Person 1, but that impact is private and unknowable to Person 1, unless communicated by Person 2. .

Step Six: Lather, rinse, repeat.

At every step in this interaction, there is the potential for miscommunication, a series of gaps between Person 1’s intentions and the impact on Person 2. One could misunderstand one’s own private intentions or choose the wrong words or tone when trying to express them. Or, Person 2 could misinterpret the message encoded by Person 1, leading to unintended consequences. When two people communicate effectively, “the effect is what was intended, [and] the gap has been bridged. If the effect is the opposite of what was intended, the gap has become greater.”3

When communication must happen across languages, the unique skill set of an interpreter is required. In order to facilitate effective communication, an interpreter must not only break down the language barrier, but also overcome the cultural divide and bridge the interpersonal gap.

Bridging the Interpersonal Gap

“Tell them it’s still too watery – the cement is too watery. It needs to be strong – fuerte, fuerte.” Mr. Mitchell gestured with his biceps. A dozen men from the community were taking turns mixing the cement with their shovels: scrape, tap, scrape, tap. It was brutal work, unforgiving. Through me, Mr. Mitchell had been telling them all day that they were adding too much water to the cement mixture. I knew they were getting frustrated and tired. I couldn’t bring myself to correct them again. The air was heavy with humidity. The blistering afternoon sun bore down on us. Rosy patches of sunburn bloomed on my white cheeks. The engineering team sat in the shade of a nearby tree, playing with the children who had shown up to watch their fathers work. I stood in the middle, unsure of where I belonged, shuttling messages back and forth between the engineers and my community.

“Gringos aren’t made for this heat,” I joked with Feliciano, my host dad, not sure if I was talking about myself or the engineers. I grabbed a shovel and jumped into the scrum: scrape, grunt, “Ow!” Physical labor is a language all its own, and I needed a lot more practice. Feliciano and the others would always be stronger than me, faster than me. I couldn’t keep up. And yet, I didn’t belong with the engineers either. They had a clearly defined role. They designed the bridge. They knew the plans and dimensions, the math. They had all the answers. But what was my role? I was between two worlds, with one foot in each culture – or maybe just a toe.

The role of the interpreter is to bring these two worlds together in mutual understanding. With effective cross-cultural communication, we can knock down barriers and build bridges, both literally and figuratively, connecting people from different cultures and creating a global community.

 

Written by Cullen Heater

Visit Cullen at Intercambiowriting

REFERENCES

1A. Chinmaya and J.W. Vargo, “Improving Communication: The Ideas of John Wallen.” March 28th, 2012. University of Alberta, Calgary. P. 152. https://cjc-rcc.ucalgary.ca › article › download

2 Ibid, p. 154

3 Wallen, J. The Interpersonal Gap. Mimeographed paper, Portland, Oregon: 1967a, p.1.

https://cjc-rcc.ucalgary.ca › article › download

 

In addition to:

Wallen, John L.Wikimedia Commons, Wikimedia Foundation, Inc., 17 May 2020, commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Interpersonal_Gap_Large.png#filelinks. https://Commons.wikimedia.org/Wiki/File:Interpersonal_Gap_Large.Png#Filelinks. 

 

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A Short Walk Through Bali – Ubud

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A Short Walk Through Bali – Ubud

Bali, the Island of the Goods

Bali is known as the “Island of the goods” not only because of its magic and landscapes but also due to the number of ancient temples that you can find. Although the official language is Bahasa Indonesia, on this island, the Balinese language is predominantly spoken. According to the locals, the island’s population is still made up of castes – upper-caste, lower-caste and two others in between  – each of whom speak varieties of Balinese. English is the third most common language as a consequence of the number of tourists who visit the island every year. Only some Hindu Priests still speak Kawi and Sanskrit (a classical language of India. Read on to learn more)

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*Source: Berita Resmi Statistik Provinsi Bali

It is commonly believed that in Bali people speak Indonesio. For this reason, many tourists do not differentiate between it and Balinese. “Terima kasih” was the first Balinese phrase (for “thank you”) I ever heard from a traveller recommendation, however that is an Indonesio phrase. In Balinese, one would say “Suksma.” It is interesting to have these differences in mind if you want to learn and wish to connect with locals.

The Town of Ubud

If I asked you to say at loud the first words that come into your mind when hearing “Bali” what would you say? Most would probably link of rice paddies, sparkling pools, amazing landscapes, palaces and ancient buildings, a luxurious island, a paradise. Am I wrong? This is what a lot of people travelling there show on their social networks and all of it is absolutely true. However, I would like to show you some other aspects of the Island that are not that well known.

Let’s focus on Ubud, one small town that became popular because of the herbs and medicinal plants that surround it. Ubud is named after the Balines word, “UBAD” which means “medicine.” The town is known as the main artistic and cultural center of Bali and of Indonesia.

Let’s spice this place up and talk about their food, transportation and culture. I arrived at night and went directly to a bungalow a friend had recommended. When I woke up I ran into a beautiful breakfast and a typical offering – a basket made from banana leaves with some rice, petals, flowers, a cookie and incense. The mix between the healthy and fresh breakfast, the offering and the smell together with the sylvatic view was immersive and the perfect welcome.

After I set up, I rented a motorbike because I wanted to roam around in the streets just like a local.Driving a motorbike in Ubud is worth a separate chapter because it truly represents their way of living. It seems quite chaotic at first, trying to understand how the motorbike works and driving on the left (for me, it is the other way round). Often, a third road opens up, and, if there is enough space, you can see three  lanes that will disappear as soon as the last motorbike passes. In the meanwhile, you are checking all these bikes coming and going with students, workers, travelers, ladies in dresses carrying chickens, all dancing by the endless sound of the horns – magical, yet chaotic to a newcomer.

It seems chaotic, yes, but I can assure you that is also quite entertaining.. Ubud people are really friendly and while you’re worried and paying attention to the streets,  they are warmly welcoming you and laughing at the way you are driving.

Spirituality ib Ubud

I used the motorbike every day to go to a Yoga studio where I spent most of my days doing different types of yoga and connecting with myself –something I really needed at the time.

All the yoga places are just a dream with open “shalas” where you can see and feel the nature just next to you. The weather allows this to happen all year round. 

One day in a Yoga class, I met this Indonesian girl who lives in New Zealand and was in Ubud for holidays (called Sita). After a few days she sent me a message inviting me to a big ceremony close to Ubud where there was a cremation process. This was a spectacular experience that I will show you in a short video soon.

The Balinese believe in reincarnation. That is why cremation is so important to them. As the expenses to make it are really high, only people from the upper castes can have one right after a loved one dies. On the other side, lower castes celebrate collective funerals every three to five years. The one I attended belonged to this second group. The family members had saved money for years.

As son as the sun rose, the family of the already deceased went to the cemetery to pick up the remains, wrapped them in white fabric in order to take them to the cremation place.

The Balinesey believe that only once the person is consumed by fire they will be able to find peace. If this doesn’t happen, they can become a wandering spirit. The bodies are organized by the date of death, by name, and by a photo inside the pavilion with all the craft offerings, money, and food. At midday, the celebration starts and I won’t describe it but you will see it here.

Place Yourself in the “Middle”, in Bali

In order to end this short story I will share with you what I liked the most about the Balineser way of seeing life. In the west, we most likely use the opposites. We focus on positive or negative, woman or man, left or right. However, Balinese Hinduism places themselves in the middle, in the center. Because it is in the center from where the opposites can be balanced understanding that they are both necessary and part of the whole. I find this intriguing, don’t you? Perhaps one day, when the time is right, you too can experience this magical place for yourself. I sincerely hope you do.

Until next time, suksma for reading!

 

Written by Virginia González

 

Basque Country

Euskal Herria

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Euskal Herria

Basque

Did you know that Basque is one of the oldest languages in Western Europe? For centuries, linguists and historians have analyzed, deconstructed, studied, and tried to trace the Basque language back to its roots. Yet to this day, nobody has been able to pinpoint its exact origin. In the linguistics field, Basque is known as a language isolate, or what we call an “orphan” in the world of family language trees. And, although all scholars seem to have agreed that Basque (or Euskara) is not of Indo-European origin like Spanish, French or English for example, there are more differences in opinion than there are similarities.

Some scholars claim the language of Euskara resembles Berber, a language spoken in Northern Africa. Others find linguistic similarities with the Georgian language spoken in the Caucasus, a possible but very distant cousin. Many say it is a language of prehistoric origins, and a small few have even suggested that it comes from outer space! Nothing like a bit of linguistic mystery to get the imagination going.

The Mysterious Basques

In Basque, Euskal Herria literally means “the land or country where Basque is spoken.” It is an area of approximately 3,900 square miles (10,000 square kilometers) straddling the Western Pyrenees in what is modern-day Spain and France. Most Basques are usually bilingual, speaking Basque and either Spanish or French, and according to EKE (Basque Cultural Institute) there are approximately 750,000 speakers in the world. When speaking about the Basque Country and its borders it is almost impossible to avoid politics, particularly given its very recent violent past for the claim of independence. Luckily, the still ever-present independence conflict has now turned mostly peaceful so let’s just avoid that topic altogether and focus on the wonderful culturally distinct area that it is.

Vitoria-Gasteiz

Christmas 2019 was the last time I travelled to the Basque Country to visit family. You have probably heard about the city of Bilbao, the twentieth century industrial town today turned modern-hip city housing the Guggenheim museum. Or perhaps you have heard about San Sebastian with its glitzy International Film Festival, fine sand beaches full of surfers, and bars displaying their gastronomical delights. Both cities have much to offer, however, I will virtually take you to the city of Vitoria-Gasteiz, the de-facto capital of the Basque Country and the lesser known of these three larger cities south of the Pyrenees. 

The winter holiday is a nice time of the year to visit Vitoria if you don’t mind cold weather. In fact, any time of the year is a good time as you will easily avoid the swarms of tourists further up north. While I am likely biased, Vitoria is actually picturesque and well worth the visit. The city and surrounding areas are great for hiking and biking, there are museums, palaces, and churches to see, as well as many restaurants and bars. Plus Napoleon’s armies were defeated there, so plenty of history to explore if that’s your thing. 

One of the first things we always do when we arrive, after dumping our bags at grandpa’s, is take the tram to Sancho el Sabio street and start our pintxos tour. The timing of our arrival is generally planned to coincide with the evening pintxo fare, around 7 or 8 pm, but don’t fret – you can find pintxos earlier in the day in many bars.

The Basque “Pintxo” Culture

A pintxo is a piece of bread with a small bit of food on top held together by a toothpick. Normally you can eat a pintxo in a bite or two, making this the main distinguishing feature between a pintxo and a Spanish tapa for which you generally need a fork to eat. My kids love pintxos! The variety of toppings make it easy to find something they will actually eat, and I assure you my two are quite picky. For them, having something to eat while not being forced to sit down and listen to the adults go “blah blah blah” is heaven. And for us, well… pintxo culture makes it totally acceptable to take the kids bar hopping, enjoy little bites to eat while tasting local tempranillo wines from the nearby Rioja Alavesa or the fresh and little acidic txakoli, a Basque white wine. What is there not to love? We like to make our way up the hill from bar to bar to the medieval center of the town before strolling back with a full belly to catch the tram.

The medieval part of town dates back more than 8 centuries and it is gorgeous – an almond-shaped quarter with pedestrian streets, a mix of centennial palaces, spectacular old churches, modern urban sculptures, and a ton of activity around the holiday time. At any bar you will be hard-pressed to find a seat as they are usually packed with friends catching up, chatting and eating, especially during weekends. Submit to the culture and take in all the hustle and bustle – you will be glad you did. Even though Basque people are sometimes reserved, overall, they are good humored and friendly.

Languages in the Basque Country

What I have noticed over the years when I go back is the increasing number of people that I hear speaking Basque in the street, particularly younger people. The most recent estimate is that 1 in every 6 people in the Spanish side of the Basque country now speak Euskara. Otherwise, you will hear Spanish spoken and nobody will look at you strangely either if that’s all you speak.

According to Hella Basque, “bilingual Euskara speakers increased by 6% from 1991 to 2016.”1 

Although this is quite hopeful, on the French side the number of Basque speakers is dwindling, and now only 1 in every 10 inhabitants speaks it. Despite the efforts to revive the language on the Spanish side, which I bear witness are being fruitful, UNESCO has declared Euskara as an endangered language which makes me sad.

Won’t You Join Me in Basque Country?

I feel very lucky to have been born and raised in such a culturally different part of Europe. I feel honored to have had the chance to learn and speak (even if at a rather basic level) a very unique and ancient language, and even more honored to now be able to share all of it with my family and friends – and of course, all of you. 

I definitely can’t wait for the next time I go to the place I still call home. Won’t you join me there?

 

Written by Ronait Tynan

 

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Celebrating NYC Multiculturalism

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A New York Love Affair A Love Story That Never Ends

New York City’s Cultural and Linguistic Diversity

Cultural and linguistic diversity in New York City is alive and well.

Recent data from the Census Bureau’s American Community Survey revealed that as little as 51 percent of New Yorkers speak English at home. Not surprisingly, Spanish is the second most commonly spoken language. It is spoken at home by nearly 25 percent of New Yorkers, amounting to roughly 1.87 million people. In fact, New York is home to as many as 800 languages and is often referred to as the world’s most linguistically diverse cities — and it is for this very reason, that I feel right at home.

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Download the Data

A Love Story That Never Ends

What a trip. I mean that in the literal and the figurative sense.

 

My two eldest daughters have recently relocated to New York City. They have a beautiful apartment in Harlem, and are just starting to settle in. Here in upstate New York, I’ve been caring for my eldest daughter’s dog (and “my” baby grand!), Daisy, a beautiful, spirited 11-year old cocker spaniel.

 

Last weekend, my youngest daughter and I rented an SUV, threw some clothes in a bag, packed up the Duke (Daisy), and headed down to NYC for the big mommy-doggy reunion. And once again, the Big Apple didn’t disappoint. There is something about this city that puts a skip in my step each and every time I visit. It isn’t just the hustle and bustle. It isn’t just the city streets, the cars honking, or the delectable food smells floating through the air. Nope. It’s the people.

A Harlem Love Affair

In a one-block radius of my daughters’ apartment, I must have been greeted by two dozen or more folks. They don’t say, “hello” out of sheer obligation because we just happen to be temporarily sharing the same intimate sidewalk space as we brush by one another. They genuinely engage, look at you square in the face, smile, and say, “hello.” But it’s rarely just a “hello.” It’s often, a “that’s a spunky dog you have there!”, or a “your smile just brightened my day!” kind of greeting. Yes, there are flirts. Many, many flirts. And there are characters. Man, are there characters.

We arrived on Friday afternoon and naturally, I decided to take the Duke for a walk before my daughter got home from work. There was a man on the corner, sitting on his motorcycle, blasting James Brown. He was just grooving to the music as his friends came and went. He caught me smiling at him, so he did a little dance for me without moving off of his bike:

“I love it!”, I said.

“I know you do!”, he called back.

 

Manhattan Motorcycle Man

On the next corner, a man had his market set up with fresh fruits and vegetables, speaking with a small group of people in what sounded to me like the Arabic language. Mother Nature’s vibrant reds, yellows, blues, oranges, and greens filled his stand while passersby stopped, shopped, exchanged a few formalities, then kept it moving.

It was a busy Friday afternoon on the streets of Harlem, as people walked by in both directions, speaking any number of different languages. The streets were alive with music, talking, laughing, cars racing by, cyclists yelling to move to the side – and did I mention the smells of food pouring out of street trucks and nearby restaurants? Ah, I was in my glory.

An Italian Love Affair

At Lella Alimenti

On Saturday late morning, I made my way on the subway to Brooklyn to meet a friend of mine. It was freezing cold and pouring rain. It took me three transfers to find Rachael but that is all part of the New York adventure, and I love it. We met at a very charming Italian café on Manhattan Avenue called, Lella Alimenti. The café was packed and the noise was that perfect buzzing sound that lets your senses know you are right at home. Rachael told me that this was an authentic Italian café and that I would love the food – and naturally, I did.

Within an hour, my three daughters joined us as well, and it just made the experience that much more enjoyable. I also happened to notice that the young gentleman who served us not only supported a strong Italian accent but man, was he a looker! You know, that kind of adorable expression with puppy dog eyes, coupled with a beyond charming personality. He was the kind of person who again, looks directly at the person with whom he is engaging, and he does so with an authentic smile on his face. Needless to say, I was so charmed by this young man that I had to speak Italian to him when we left.

No. I don’t speak Italian. My father’s father was from Sicily and he spoke Italian. Two of my father’s sisters speak Italian as well. When I was a very little girl, I too wanted to follow my Italian roots so I went to Italian school on the weekends, but I quit much too soon. I was quite young and impressionable, and all the other kids came from Italian speaking homes. So, when I tried to speak and use what little vocabulary I had learned, they would giggle. Not out of spite, but just because I was placing emphasis on the wrong syllables. Italian words are awfully multi-syllabic so I’m sure it sounded quite funny to them. Anyway, after this happened repeatedly, I felt discouraged as though I just wouldn’t be able conquer it, and I gave up. Pity. It’s such a beautiful language and part of my family history. I guess it’s never too late though.

Back to the handsome Italian man in the café. We cleared off our breakfast plates, and started to make our way toward the exit. I couldn’t help myself. I fully believe that if you have something kind to say to someone, you should say it. Sometimes a person really needs a compliment, so why would you hold back? So, I sauntered up to the counter, mustered up the courage, leaned over so he could hear me, and said:

“Grazie, Signore. Sei molto bello. Addio!”

And with a genuine smile, he responded with the sweetest,

“Prego, addio!” 

Rachael and Carreen at Lella Alimenti

A French Love Affair

On the C Train

For the rest of the day, my daughters and I toured different areas of the city. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, went for a delicious dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant in the Chelsea area, then wandered in and out of some sweet shops and thrift stores.

As we made our way around the city from subway to subway, we started talking to a group of musicians who play the hand drums on the C train. As we were exchanging pleasantries, another gentleman made his way over and began to talk with us. It was clear that he was not fluent in English but he tried his best, and wow, did he have a smile! Whether you believe it or not, a person’s smile reveals so much. This man’s smile was beyond authentic and kind. He just genuinely wanted to be a part of the conversation, and so naturally, he was.

We all got on the C train together and had the pleasure of listening to the musicians perform. Before we knew it though, they were jumping off the train to run to their next location. The other gentleman and I however, drummed up a conversation of our own. Our small talk soon revealed that he was in the city visiting his girlfriend, and that he was Franco-Dominican living in Montreal. So, you know what’s coming. Yes, the French chatter began!

My second language is French. I grew up speaking French and every single chance I get to speak, I speak. So, we gabbed about my daughters, what they are doing in NYC, where they were born, his girlfriend, and what it must be like to travel back and forth between Montreal and NYC. My eldest daughter is working hard to gain back the French she had learned as a small child, so she too, added her French flair to the conversation. We gabbed and gabbed and gabbed, until it was time for us to say goodbye.  

« Au revoir, monsieur ! C’était un vrai plaisir ! »

« Le plaisir était tout le mien ! »

Subway Drumming

New York City, I Love You

As all love stories go, this one too sadly came to an end. Before we knew it, my youngest daughter and I were back in our rented vehicle, heading over the George Washington Bridge, then northwest for six hours, straight back to Buffalo. This love story might have had to end, but it won’t be the last. Now that two of my daughters have moved to New York, I’ll have the chance to visit much more often. And each time I do, I’m quite sure that I’ll fall in love all over again, for the first time.

New York City, I love you.

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Eleuthera

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Eleuthera The Pink Paradise of Bahamas

The Bahamas

Derived from the Spanish words for shallow, (baja) and sea, (mar), the Bahamas consists of more than 700 islands spread out over 100,000 square miles (258,998.8 km) in the Atlantic Ocean. Yes, 700. I bet that surprised you, didn’t it? Well, although there are 700 islands, only 30 are inhabited. From its sandy beaches, cays, and coral reefs, to its rich wildlife teeming with reptiles, sharks, rays, and subtropical birds, it is no wonder that Bahamas continues to be a prime vacation destination.

Bahamian Multicultural and Multilingual History

The “Lukku-Cairi”, a branch of the Taino people, were the original inhabitants of the Bahamas. But soon after the arrival of Christopher Columbus, the Lukku-Cairi were completely wiped out from slavery and disease, among other hardships and atrocities. The Spanish may have taken as many as 40,000 Lukku-Cairi within the first 20 years of their arrival – but the atrocities didn’t stop there.

During the early 1660s through to the early 1800s, Britain captured and shipped over 3 million Africans to various British-owned colonies, one of which was the Bahamas. In fact, it is believed that some 85 percent of the Bahamian population is of African heritage:

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Download the Data

To this day, the Bahamas “Creole” language is believed to have a mix of the African languages of Igbo, Kikongo, Fulani, Ahanta, and Fante.

Another direct African connection is the celebration of Junkanoo, a very lively and world-renowned festival that takes place in several of the Bahamas Islands during the Christmas season. Due to its popularity, the Junkanoo Summer Festival can also be found on select islands during the months of June and July. Although there are varying stories as to where the festival got its roots, the most accepted belief is that it evolved from the days of slavery.

During the Christmas season, Loyalists who had migrated to the islands in the last 18th Century, brought slaves along with them. Out of the “kindness” of their hearts, they would allow slaves three days off so that they could celebrate “freedom” – no irony in that, now is there? However, the spirit of a people always shines through and finds a way to take an otherwise dark history and turn it into something spectacular.

Although English is the official language throughout the Bahamas, the islands are also home to Bahamian Creole (an English-based Creole), and Haitian Creole (a French-based Creole. The latter intrigues me the most. Here are just a few of the words I’ve come to learn in Haitian Creole:

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My Time in Eleuthera

In January of this year, I had the pleasure to travel to one of the lesser-known islands in the Bahamas archipelago. Eleuthera is all of 110 miles long (180 km), and slightly more than 1 mile wide (1.6 km). With a population of 11,000 people, the island is quite peaceful, laid back, and calm – at least for the time that I was there.

I stayed in a beach house that faced the Atlantic Ocean. Each morning mystified the senses with the warm breeze, ocean waves, blue skies, and the odd surfer in the distance. Not far away, a group of university students had taken up temporary residence to study the rising sea levels. Each morning, I’d see them busying themselves along the shore, gear in hand, anticipation and excitement on their faces.  I contemplated this for awhile – the irony between their joy and excitement, and the frightening reality of what they will eventually discover. Yes, the sea is rising, and yes, humans have had a lot to do with it. Two of the main causes are thermal expansion and the melting of glaciers and ice sheets.

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It’s of no surprise to learn that greenhouse gasses are one of the major contributors. And yet, we continue to hear certain world leaders who shall not be named that climate change is a … hoax …. Sigh. But let’s move on. This blog is about celebrating languages and cultures, not groaning about the darkside of politics.

Eleutheran Culture

On the first day I arrived, I happened upon three young boys drumming along the side of the road. I love children, and I love hand drumming. I’ve learned to drum a little on the djembe, and when I take the time to drum, all my cares melt away. It is quite a cathartic experience. So, naturally I had to stop, greet the boys, compliment their amazing talent, and dance while they played me a song. What a welcoming!

Drumming and Dancing

The shops in town are mainly gift shops, corner stores, produce stands, and local eateries. The main source of income here is tourism, fishing, agriculture, and mining. Most of the people I met were very friendly, despite their quiet disposition. During my week’s stay, I went on many nature walks, explored the countryside, went kayaking and paddleboarding, visited a beautiful nature preserve, crossed over the infamous Glass Bridge, and marvelled at the sea turtles and starfish, the Belted Kingfisher, hummingbirds, and more.

Bahamas On The Mind

I would love to visit the Bahamas again one fine day, and take in all that I can. I am endlessly fascinated by languages, cultures, and traditions of the world, how they came to be, for better or for worse, and how language and culture tie us all together.

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