Autoethnography
Africans Speak Dialects, Europeans Speak Languages
Respond. Explain. Justify. It’s exhausting.
“What dialect does your mother speak?” The nurse asks me in french. Her tone is friendly.
Sigh
“What do you mean by ‘dialect’?” I ask.
It’s good we are in a dimly lit room, I’m wearing a mask and I’m still wearing my winter bonnet low, else the expression on the lower part of my face, combined with that of my eyes would betray my emotions. Irritation. Impatience.
“I mean… her language. What language does she speak?”
“You mean aside from English?
“Yes.” She confirms
She also speaks Kiswahili. Why?” I ask.
“We were thinking that perhaps rather than English we can get an interpreter who speaks her dialect.” She explains.
“She understands and speaks English and Kiswahili, which is a language. French to English has been okay, and would still be okay.” I say
“We were thinking it would be easier for her if we could get someone who speaks what she really speaks, for the meetings.” She insists. “So what’s her real real language?”
