Re-Evaluating My Language Learning Priorities (and Dropping Languages): February 2018 Edition

I’ve noticed that whenever the seasons are on the verge of changing I seem to think about what sort of languages I am enjoying (or not) and I make changes accordingly.

Some languages like Dutch and Northern Sami I used to have impressive command of but now they seem to have dwindled to nothing. Others I really enjoyed learning but it occurred to me that, for whatever reason (some of which couldn’t be articulated), I didn’t really feel as though I “had the spark anymore”. Faroese, Estonian and Russian were all obsessions of mine that fell by the wayside as a result (although I still speak a bit of all languages in this paragraph and, if the need arises, I could revive them).

So I’ve decided to clear my list of all of the following. The most noteworthy clearances are Breton and French just…don’t do it for me anymore. And French I mostly learned for peer-pressure reasons anyhow. It would be one thing if I were actively planning to go to the Ivory Coast or French Polynesia instead of Fiji in the summer (and if I were even headed to Vanuatu I would make it a priority). But right now, I’m just not feeling it. Same with Breton, and I’m glad for the times we’ve had together, but for some odd reason I feel as though I need a break. (Cornish I’m still undecided about, given that St. Piran’s Day is coming up on March 5. Cornish is probably the one language that I’ve been on-again off-again the most).

I also really need to start focusing on quality, especially as I continue to enter the global spotlight with both my polyglotism AND my video games being released later this year. I’m already getting more messages than I can humanly deal with… a day that I DREAMED of seeing as a high school student.

Anyhow, on my languages page I reduced it to 31, and all of my fluent languages (B2 or higher) got to stay except for Breton which I hadn’t been practicing too much as of late anyhow. Also while Spanish and German get to stay, they are, along with English, the ones that I have the least amount of emotional attachment to (sorry).

Anyhow, let’s go through my list from A0 (a few words) to B1 (intermediate plateau) and I’ll go through the reasons I decided to keep those ones in particular.

A0

First off, Guarani is my opportunity to glimpse an indigenous culture of South America (Paraguay) that may be under siege. I devoted a lot of time on my YouTube Channel last year and I actually met a fluent speaker in Fall 2017 who absolutely refused to use it with me for some reason (I’m not going to lie, I felt snubbed and borderline offended. In an age of mass language death, you should be sharing with anyone willing to partake of your culture.)

Despite that, I shouldn’t let one bad interaction with a speaker get me down and I’m gonna be up again because it occurs to me that I need to know more about indigenous South American than I already do (it’s probably the one continent that I know the least about, actually, even if you include Antarctica).

Given that I’m headed to Fiji later on this year, Fiji Hindi is also a priority despite the fact that I’ve struggled with this one more than any other Indo-European language that isn’t Celtic. Resources are scarce and ways to rehearse it are difficult, but I’ll attempt an “attack plan” once I feel as though I’m a solid B2 in Fijian, which may be sooner than I think (a “Why Fijian is Easy” post is coming soon!)

Given the relations between the native Fijians / iTaukei and the Fiji Indians have been difficult at times, it behooves me to learn about them both, especially given that I’ll get to see close up hand. I’ve heard that Fiji Indians are prominent in the tourist industry and my chances to interact with them will be many.

Next up on the A0 list is Uyghur. I’ve gotten so much fantastic feedback from attempting this language on YouTube, not also to mention the deep pride that many Uyghurs have for their culture, that I’m going to continue it. It would be, in a sense, one of my first Chinese Languages (and I still haven’t forgotten about Mandarin quite yet but I’ll reveal everything in good time. With both my one surviving grandparent coming from a Hungarian family and my Oceania venture, I feel time-crunched from multiple sides. It seems that Uyghur is not going to be too much of a serious investment in the near future, but I’ll see what I can do with it and I have no plans to drop it completely).

Last among the A0 list is Tuvaluan. While Tongan has been dropped for the time being (too close to Fijian for me to actively work on both at the same time, as is Tuvaluan), Tuvaluan is something I want to at least be able to use in SOME capacity before heading to Fiji (if I even end up going there at all) by virtue of the fact that Fiji’s only endangered language is Tuvaluan (y’know, the expatriate community). Also given that Tuvalu is in a similar situation to Kiribati with the whole climate change thing, it’s something I believe is a moral duty. If only there were readily available good textbooks for it, otherwise I’ll have to write my own from dictionaries, grammar books and Bible translations, not also to mention help from the Tuvaluan sub-Reddit (I believe the Kiribati sub-Reddit is by invitation only. I applied to join. No answer. Hey, mods at Kiribati, can you approve me? Kam raba! [Thank you guys!])

A1

Probably the language for which I have been lauded by native speakers the most, Palauan gets to stay and will be a constant feature of my programming. You guys have fantastic music and have given me very concrete and useful advice and not a DROP of discouragement! Also that Palau Pledge and that movie with the giant is probably the most beautiful thing I’ve read / seen all year!

Probably not at A1 anymore because of months of not practicing, but I’ll have African languages in part represented by Mossi (Krio’s still on my list, don’t worry). My first tonal language from outside Asia, I think I really need to learn more about Burkina Faso, given how Christian and Muslim traditions (not also to mention elements of traditional African religions) really blend together. There’s a lot on my plate right now so no actively working on Mossi now, but at least you get to stay on my radar as opposed to the many languages that I decided to drop.

Probably my favorite Caribbean Creole is that of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. I discovered Vincentian Creole through Bible recordings and one of these days I’ll make sure to spend more time with you. You’re probably the one Caribbean nation most Americans know the least about. Can’t wait to start spending more time together!

Lastly among the A1 category (I dropped Arabic but I’ll probably be putting it back later this year when my Fijian and Fiji Hindi is secure), Tajik. Everything about you is fascinating and also very distinct from the Western Culture I experience every day in the United States. You and Uyghur will be my Central Asian projects for the not-too-distant future.

A2

Burmese music is something I have in huge doses and that I’m fascinated with. Also the Burmese-American community here in New York City, not also to mention plenty of professional opportunities with politics and translation work should I choose to get good enough. Alongside Tok Pisin, Burmese really gave me a glimpse into a country that was severely wrecked by imperialist meddling (you could pretty much say this for…well, almost everywhere on the planet, which is why I believe learning languages from these areas of the globe is a morally correct decision for all of us who want to learn some).

Irish is a language of my ancestors and one I’ve dreamed of learning well for a decade. I used to be better but I slumped terribly in progress leading up to the Polyglot Conference in 2017. I still don’t consider myself that good despite the fact that I remember having some manageable conversations in it. Probably my most poorly managed language learning project.

Gilbertese of course gets to stay. As does Fijian.

 

B1

Greenlandic is the language I’ve struggled with the most and STILL the hardest I’ve attempted. But given that I’m working on a video game set there I’m going to continue this fantastic relationship I’ve had with my favorite language (even though it is now tied with Gilbertese for my favorite).

Despite the fact that I SERIOUSLY need good music that I like in it, Lao is staying around too. I’ve seen heartbreaking homemade films in Lao that I will never forget for as long as I live, and this is the first language I’ve learned from a genuinely communist state. A truly meaningful experience…besides, I really like the sound of the language despite the fact that the tones still “get me”.

Lastly, Hungarian and Polish get to stay around. Hungarian is an ancestral language of mine and my deepest regret in my polyglot life is having not chosen to study it earlier. But luckily I still have time…as long as I focus. Among European Languages, Hungarian has THE most supportive native speakers (although I’ve met one or two who gave me a hard time on the surface but then gave me vaguely reluctant support…sort of?) Polish is the second-most commonly used language on my Facebook feed. Being able to speed-reed it is something I should really learn sooner than later.

 

So my current list reads like this:

 

A0 – Guarani, Fiji Hindi, Uyghur, Tuvaluan,

A1:  Palauan, Mossi, Vincentian Creole, Tajik

A2 –  Burmese, Irish, Gilbertese, Fijian

B1 –  Greenlandic, Lao, Hungarian, Polish

B2 – Hebrew, Finnish, Krio, Jamaican Patois, Icelandic

C1 –  Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Yiddish, Spanish (EU), German, Trini

C2 – Bislama, Solomon Islands Pijin, Tok Pisin

Native: English, Ancient Hebrew

 

I haven’t been having the best month and so I may have under-practiced some of these but I think a good dosage of focused Saturdays should get me in shape, especially with my priorities straightened out.

February is almost on its way out, and with it my Greenlandic 30-Day challenge (cut to 28 days, or so it seems) in addition to Fijian. Next month is more Fijian and another language on this page that I haven’t decided yet!

May you only know fulfilled goals!

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Far From My Mom’s St. Petersburg – A Conversation about Tajikistan with Leora Eisenberg

 

Today is the Independence day of Tajikistan, a place that is fascinating to many people throughout the globe but nonetheless relatively unknown by many. For the future I’ll be partnering with curious souls like you in order to share stories. Today I brought Leora Eisenberg, who had the marvelous privilege of spending the past summer in Tajikistan. Here she is discussing the many sides of her Tajiki story and how it left her greatly changed for the better!

1.What sort of background do you come from and how did you get interested in Tajiki / Persian culture in general? How have your experiences been with either prior to visiting Tajikistan?

My mom and stepdad (and consequently, their whole family) are from St. Petersburg, although they refer to it as Leningrad; they grew up and were educated there. At home, I grew up in a very… Russian household. That is to say that I grew up watching Soviet children’s cartoons, eating Russian food, and speaking the language at home. There was also a very strong Russian-Jewish work ethic. (That is to say I had to be the best.) My awareness of the former USSR was part of my identity, but I still never knew that much; I had never taken a class or written a paper on the topic. That said, I was certainly more aware of the Soviet Union than most of my fellow Russian-Jewish birth cohort. I was always interested in Soviet history and culture… to such an extent that I’m now majoring in the field!

As for Tajiki/Persian culture… regardless of the fact that I was aware of the USSR, I didn’t think much about Tajikistan. I mean, sure, I knew that its capital was Dushanbe, but that was it. To be fair, I attribute a lot of this to my parents who are very proud of being Europeans from St. Petersburg, for better or for worse. Tajikistan wasn’t part of their consciousness, and consequently, it wasn’t part of mine.

I stumbled onto Tajiki and Persian culture completely accidentally. I thought I was going to major in Near (Middle) Eastern Studies, so I chose Persian as a foreign language. I ended up falling in love with it, and I applied for the Critical Language Scholarship (CLS) program in Tajikistan, which teaches primarily Farsi, at the encouragement of my professor.

 

2. What makes Tajikistan and its culture stand out? How about the Tajik language?

It’s important to note that I came to Tajikistan to learn Iranian Persian, i.e. Farsi. As a government program, CLS cannot send American students to Iran to learn the language, so it is, then, left with the two other Persian-speaking countries: Afghanistan (which speaks Dari) and Tajikistan (which speaks Tajiki). They certainly couldn’t send us to Afghanistan, so Tajikistan was the only option left.

We had almost all of our class in Farsi, but we had 2-4 hours of Tajiki class a week. That said, I spoke almost exclusively Tajiki at home with my host family, which I ended up learning, more or less, by osmosis.

Contrary to what people might say, it’s not the same as Farsi. The literary language is indeed close to it, but the everyday, conversational language is substantially different due to the heavy Russian influence, both in the standardization of the language itself and in pure vocabulary. There’s also a significant Turkic influence coming from Uzbek, since about 25% of Tajikistan’s population is ethnically Uzbek.

As for the culture… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known. As a whole, what I noted about the culture was that people truly had an inclination to do good. If given a choice between a good and a bad action, Tajiks almost inevitably went for the good one. For example, if someone on a bus offered me their seat (which they almost always did, even if they didn’t know I was a foreigner) and I refused, they would almost always offer to hold my bags because “I looked tired.” I was no anomaly; I’ve seen Tajiks do the same to dozens of other people. It’s just the way they are.

I could write extensively on the topic. A few other things that I noticed were the importance of hospitality and the prominence of color and vivacity in everyday life.

 

3. How was your experience learning and using Tajik in Tajikistan? What sort of reactions did you get and what sort of struggles did you face?

In the beginning, it was very hard simply because I had had no exposure to the Tajiki language before. I only knew Farsi. For the first two weeks or so, I just didn’t understand anything.

A story to illustrate the point: one evening during my first week, we went to my host aunt and uncle’s house. Many family members, whom I didn’t yet know, were there. I didn’t know much Tajiki yet, and I didn’t understand what people were saying. They would ask me questions occasionally, and I would just freeze, unable to answer. I was so embarrassed. Sometimes, they would switch to Russian entirely for my benefit; other times, they continued with their conversations. Since they wouldn’t let me, a guest, clear the table (my activity of choice when under duress), I locked myself in the bathroom and cried for about ten minutes. I didn’t want to face them because I was so ashamed of my lack of knowledge. I only spoke Farsi at that point — not Tajiki.

That said, as time progressed, I understood more and more. If the “older generation” (40+ years) was talking, I could understand 40-70% of what they said by the end of the trip. (With young people, the number was much lower.) I learned primarily by osmosis; Tajiki class wasn’t very helpful at all since we primarily focused on learning the alphabet, which I already knew.

Whenever I spoke Tajiki, Tajiks were, naturally, proud. I was speaking their language. I remember that my host dad was particularly excited about this. He liked to read me poems sometimes and hope I would understand. Toward the end of the trip, Tajiks on the street used to sometimes think I was Tajik even after I had said something, which was a sign that my language skills had really improved.

 

4. What sort of tourist attractions throughout Tajikistan are not to be missed? How about local delicacies?

Tourist attractions:

Tajikistan is an absolutely beautiful country. I strongly, strongly recommend that any tourist go hiking. There is a great FB page called Hike Tajikistan which organizes for bimonthly (or so) hiking trips across the country. There are several good museums, like the National Museum in Dushanbe. The bazaar (there is one in every city and several in Dushanbe) is not to be missed; it’s a real glimpse into Tajik life, and it’s a micro-economy of its own. Also a great place to buy souvenirs.

 

Local delicacies:

Plov, also called osh, is rice, meat, chickpeas and carrots. It sounds bizarre, but is delicious. There are some tasty soups like ugro and lagman, but my favorite dish of all is called qurutob. There is no adequate way to describe it, but it, very crudely put, is a mix of hot oil, very thick puff pastry dough-type bread called fattir, tomato, cucumber and a type of sour cream-type liquid. You eat it — with your hands —  at a special restaurant designated for it.

 

5. What are some of your favorite words and/or idioms that you picked up during your time in Tajikistan?

Az pasha fil nasoz — lit. Don’t make an elephant out of a fly = don’t make a mountain out of a mole hill

Ba khoda = lit. “With God” = this could mean anything from “oh really?” To “yeah, right!”

 

6. What was your host family like and how were your interactions?

I cannot speak about my host family without smiling — and having a tear form in my eye. They became my family. My host mom always referred to me using the Russian word rodnaya, which means something like “biological” or “real.” I became her real daughter. My host dad always announced to everyone that I was his daughter. It was never a question.

My host family was very special because I didn’t just become close with my immediate family, but also with my cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. I went over to my cousins’ house every evening; with the girls, I gossiped, danced, etc. With the boys, I played soccer, played practical jokes, etc. My host aunt texted me a few days ago. I still talk to my host cousins a few times a week.

To illustrate how close we became, let me tell a story. On my last day, my host parents, like all the other host parents, drove me to the pick-up site, where all of us were being met to be taken to the airport by bus. The other host parents hugged their students, took a picture, and left. In my case, my parents hovered around and weren’t leaving. My host mom would ask me a question; I would answer. At one point, my host dad surveyed the group and whispered to my host mom, “you know, out of all the kids, only our Leora looks like a Tajik.” Host parents kept coming and going, but mine stayed. They were the last ones to go. When they finally did, all three of us were crying. My host mom said that it was “as if they had known me all of their lives.” I’m getting teary-eyed just writing about it.

That's (in order from left to right) my cousin, me and my sister in traditional dress

That’s (in order from left to right) my cousin, me and my sister in traditional dress.

 

7. How did your time in Tajikistan leave you genuinely changed?

I noticed that when I came back to the United States, I laughed a lot more. I watched the same movies, heard the same jokes, etc — but I laughed at them this time. I was much freer with enjoyment of the world around me. Tajikistan taught me an appreciation of the beauty and joys of life. The experience also gave me, literally, a family whom I love and care about and can’t wait to see again next summer. Lastly, it gave me the confidence to experience the completely unknown and make it part of my soul.

On a more cosmetic note (pun intended), I pay a lot more attention to the way I look now. In Tajikistan, women pay much more attention to their physical appearance that women do in the United States, so dressing well/putting on makeup is a habit I certainly picked up there.

 

8. Any general concluding thoughts you’d like to share with the world, concerning anything at all?

I don’t think I can put into words how much I love Tajikistan and its people. After the program ended, I traveled straight from Tajikistan to Russia and had a very difficult time. I compared everything with Dushanbe. I cried a lot; I missed “home.” Distraught, I emailed my grandfather about this dilemma. He said that I had tried to make myself part of the country — and succeeded, and that separation from it was separation from a treasured part of my consciousness. It all sounds melodramatic, but I truly believe that I’ve taken a piece of the country in my heart.

On that note, if anyone knows of any good internships in the area, please feel free to let me know….

 

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This is from when I taught them how to swim 🙂
This is only part of my family; it was in reality much larger but I wanted to illustrate how large it was.


Definitely! Thanks for telling your stories for all of us! I hope that you can continue to be an inspiration not only to me but everyone else you know! Keep going from strength to strength!

 
Leora Eisenberg
Speaks: English, Russian, French, German, Hebrew, Farsi, Tajiki — also speaks Egyptian Arabic, Japanese and Somali very poorly

Leora Eisenberg is a current sophomore at Princeton University, where she is majoring in Slavic Studies. Shockingly, is fascinated by Soviet Central Asia. When not reading on the topic, she can be found biking, studying Talmud, seeking out new experiences, and inviting her friends over for Persian desserts. Leora hopes to return to Central Asia next summer, and every summer over the course of her academic career.

Does Learning Languages ACTUALLY Make You More Open-Minded?

Let’s start this one out with an incontrovertible fact: most of the planet speaks more than one language. It knowing more than one language actually led to being more open-minded, it would follow that most of the planet is, by that metric, open-minded and non-hateful. It seems that the correlation is actually nowhere to be found.

In other words, if multilingualism led to open-mindedness and we could dispel hatred from the world by just teaching people multiple languages, given that most of the planet already knows more than one language, it would have happened by now.

However, learning more than one language CAN lead to being more open-minded, and I’ll relate how to in a moment.

But first, I would like to mention the fact that I’ve been addicted to polyglot culture since I first encountered it in 2013 in Germany and then in 2014 in the United States. I’ve been to WAAAAY too many meetings and social events to count.

Regardless of whether you take into account people who spoke several languages from birth and those who learned several languages later on in their life (even anywhere from 6+), I encountered very curious people who wanted to explore the world and ask questions, and others who were painfully judgmental about the world and other cultures.

In some cases, there were those that event insulted my choice of languages OR insulted other people’s accents and attempts to speak their language to their face (the latter was quite a rarity although sadly the former really isn’t).

Let’s put it this way: in my personal experience, speaking multiple languages does not necessarily lead to an enlightened understanding of the world and a general curiosity to learn about other people.

Nor is it the amount of languages either. I’ve met people who spoke only 2-3 languages who were significantly more curious and open-minded than some of those who spoke seven.

And yes, this also needs to be said: some people who speak only one language can be significantly more open-minded than those who speak several!

But by now you’ve probably read countless articles about how “language learning makes you experience the world differently and will make you understand more cultures and make you a better human”, and now you’ve encountered my experience and you wonder, “What? Are you possibly for real?”

And no, education level also doesn’t play a significant role in how open-minded (or not) you are, especially given how many degree-chasers there are just because of a supposed or real employment advantage.

Here’s what is probably meant when people say “learning languages makes you a more open-minded person…”

The Reasoning Behind Your Choice Matters

As some of you know, I was raised in an Orthodox Jewish environment during my teenage years (I’ve written about it many times on this blog).

Throughout my time there, there was a lot of distrust in the air for many different people groups, real or imagined. Some of them included:

  • Jews of other denominations, especially, at times, secular Israelis.
  • Eastern Europeans
  • Scandinavians
  • Muslims of any variety
  • Arabs (Mizrakhi culture was, in my memory, never brought up at school, nor did I even know that Arab Christianity was a major force in many Arab countries until the late 2000’s).
  • Anything smacking of the secular Yiddish culture, including having one rabbi respond to my speaking Yiddish (not to him) with resentment and fury (although there was one from New Square who heard me speaking Yiddish and he smiled and said, “so that’s what they teach you at college!” Oh, that was one time when I came back, not in the early 2000’s when I was actually in the school)
  • African-Americans, Afro-Caribbean peoples, and Africans in general.

Because of the prevalence of liturgical Hebrew as well as the fact that knowledge of the French language (and Latin) was highly prized there, my school wasn’t a monoglot environment.

It is very possible to have knowledge of multiple languages, even living languages, and still be closed off and, in a way, close-minded and fearful.

Later on in life, having my eyes opened by my experience at Wesleyan University, I began learning Polish (months before I knew that I was actually going to be spending my first year outside of college in Krakow).

I did it for several reasons. For one, I had heard stories about Poland being backward and anti-Semitic (it’s no different than the United States in many regards, and I doubt many Polish people would disagree). I also wanted to discover many pieces of my heritage and realize that I could use the opportunity to be a peace-maker of sorts (which I have, since then, definitely become).

I gave up on Polish several times, last year I came back to it although I don’t really think I’d call myself fluent…yet…and I haven’t been giving it my full effort, to be honest…

In more recent times, I only hear Hungary being spoken about in the context of Fidesz and Viktor Orbán, and as a result I embarked on a long-overdue quest to discover the many faces of contemporary Hungary as well as its fascinating history that my ancestors were a part of.

The Hungarians that I have spoken to since I began my journey earlier this year feel like long-lost relatives to me, and I even get to see my father’s side of the family in a whole new light. (Note: I’m not really that good at Hungarian yet, if you have any music recommendations in the language, PLEASE let me know so I can get addicted!)

Throughout the world I’ve seen cultures misimagined, viewed with distrust, or otherwise dismissed. Israel. The Scandinavian Countries. Papua New Guinea. Pretty much all of Africa and all of the Pacific Islands. Greenland.

And I haven’t even mentioned anything about Muslim-majority countries in general (Tajik and Mossi / Mòoré have been the two languages from such countries that I have focused on the most, even though I’ve read some things saying that Burkina Faso is actually majority Animist!)

What did I do?

I realized that I could be the healer.

I realized I could step in that I could introduce people to these cultures.

I realized I could be the bridge, the peacemaker, and turn people away from their prejudices.

I realized that, whatever little prejudice I have in my, I could uproot.

I could encourage people to study their family histories and learn the languages of their ancestors.

I could encourage people to learn more about cultures that their family or the TV or the media has taught them to be afraid of.

That’s how you learn languages to become more open-minded.

And you can even pick global languages like Spanish and French and use them as an opportunity for healing and discovery! (I remember Olly Richards having written a post on why Donald Trump should learn Spanish. Given what’s sadly happened since he wrote that [before the November 2016 election], it would seem that the family should probably invest in many more languages as well…)

I wonder how many people would live boring lives of wishing they were more and quiet lives of conformity, knowing that in 2017 and beyond, the whole world and knowledge of everything in it could be theirs…

Go get ‘em!

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“Is Tajikistan a Real Country?” – Introducing the Tajiki Language

Happy Persian New Year!

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The most money I’ve ever spent on a language learning book. Came with a CD. Can’t imagine there are too many books that can say that about themselves in 2017.

 

In Late 2016 and Early 2017 I thought it would be becoming of me to try to learn a language of a Muslim-majority country for the first time. Yes, I did get the Turkish trophy in Duolingo but I don’t count that because the amount of Turkish phrases I can say as of the time of writing can be counted on my fingers.

The same way that the Catholic world is very varied (you have Brazilians and Hungarians and Mexicans and too many nations in Sub-Saharan Africa to list), the Muslim world is just as equally varied with numerous flavors and internal conflicts that Hollywood and American pop culture not only doesn’t show very often but actively tries to hide (or so I feel).

While I am not fluent (nor do I even count myself as proficient) in Tajik, I am grateful for the fact that I can experience tidbits of this culture while being very far away from it, and it seems oddly familiar to me for reasons I can’t quite explain.

What’s more, Tajik is one of three Persian languages (the others being Farsi in Iran and Dari in Afghanistan), and so I can converse with speakers of all three with what little I have. I remember being shocked about how close Swedish, Norwegian and Danish were to each other (to those unaware: even closer than Spanish, Catalan and Italian), and I was even more shocked at how close these were. The three Persian languages are even closer—so close that there are those (both on the Internet and in my friend group) that consider them dialects of a single language (yes, I’ve had the same discussion with the Melanesian Creole languages!)

As a Jewish person myself (and an Ashkenazi Jew at that, for those unaware that means that my Jewish roots are traced to Central-Eastern Europe), I was intrigued by Tajik in particular as the language of the Bukharan Jewish community.

(Note: Bukhara is in contemporary Uzbekistan, and if you see where Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan meet on a map and you have a hunch that imperialist meddling may have been responsible for those borders, then you’re absolutely right!)

What’s more, my father visited Iran and Afghanistan earlier in his life but when he was there the USSR was “still a thing”.

I also had a fascination with Central Asia as a teenager ever since I heard the words “Kazakhstan”, “Uzbekistan”, “Tajikistan”, etc. (despite the fact that I literally knew NOTHING about these places aside from their names, locations on a map, and capitals), and so between Persian languages I knew which one I would try first.

It has been hard, though! With Tajik I’ve noticed that there is a gap in online resources—a lot of stuff for beginners and for native speakers (e.g. online movies) and virtually NOTHING in between (save for the Transparent Language course that I’m working on).

Thankfully knowing that I have surmounted similar obstacles with other languages (e.g. with Solomon Islands Pijin) fills me with determination.

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I’m sorry. No more “Undertale” jokes for a while.

 

Anyhow, what make Tajik unique?

 

  1. Tajik is Sovietized

 

The obvious difference between the other Persian languages and Tajik is the fact that Tajik is written in the Cyrillic alphabet, and much like Hebrew or Finnish, is pronounced the way that it is written with almost mathematical precision (despite some difficult-to-intuit shenanigans with syllable stress).

 

Thanks to not using the Arabic alphabet this obviously does make it a lot easier for speakers who may not be familiar with it.

 

Yes, in a lot of the countries in Central Asia (especially in Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan) there are some issues with what alphabet is used (and if you think that this has to do with dictators forcing or adopting certain systems, you’d be right!). Tajik I’ve noted is very consistent in usage of the Cyrillic alphabet, although obviously presences of the other two Persian languages e.g. on comment boards are present almost always whenever Tajik is.

 

But what exactly does “sovietization” entail? Well there are a lot of words that come from Russian in Tajik, and ones that were probably adopted because of administrative purposes. The words for an accident ( “avariya”) and toilet (“unitaz”), for example, are Russian loan words.

 

But unlike the Arabic / Turkic words in Tajik, a lot of these loan words refer specially to objects and things related to administration (the concept of the “Familia” [=family name], for example).

 

And this brings us to…

 

 

  1. There are a lot of Arabic loan words in Tajik.

This is something that is common to many languages spoken by Muslims.  As I noted in my interview with Tomedes, it occurred to me that the usage of Arabic words in a language like Tajik very eerily paralleled the usage of Hebrew words in Yiddish. Yiddish uses a Hebrew greeting frequently (Shulem-Aleikhem! / Aleikhem Shulem!), and Tajik uses its Arabic equivalent (Salom! / Assalomu alejkum! / va alajkum assalom!).

In case you are curious as to why the “o” is used in Tajik in the Arabic-loan phrase above, this has to do with the way that these words mutated when they entered Tajik, the same way that (wait for it!) Hebrew words changed their pronunciation a bit when they entered Yiddish! (Yaakov [Jacob] becoming “Yankev”, for example)

These Arabic loan words found themselves not only in the other Persian languages but also through Central Asia and in the Indo-Aryan languages (spoken in Northern India)!

 

  1. Tajik uses pronouns to indicate possessives

 

Should probably clarify this with an example:

Nomi man Jared (my name is Jared)

Kitobi shumo (Your book)

Zaboni Tojiki (Tajik Language)

 

Man = I

Shumo = you (polite form)

 

This means that forming possessives because easy once you grasp the concept of Izofat.

Cue the Tajiki Language book in the picture above (on page 135, to be precise)

 

“Izofat is used to connect a noun to any word that modifies it except numbers, demonstratives the superlative form of adjectives and a few other words. It consists of “I” following the noun and is always written joined to the noun. It is never stressed, the stress remains on the last syllable of the noun

 

Kitobi nav – a new book”

Madri khub – a good man

Zani zebo – a beautiful woman

Donishjui khasta = a tired student”

 

(And this is the point when it occurs to you that “Tajiki”, the name used of the language by some, uses Izofat. Tajik = person, Tajiki = language or general adjective, although enough people don’t make the distinction to the degree that even Google Translate refers to the language as “Tajik”)

Thanks to Izofat, a lot of the words are not extraordinarily long (much like in English), sparing you the pains of a language like German or Finnish (much less something like Greenlandic) in which a word may require you to dissect it.

 

  1. Hearing Tajik can be an Enchanting Experience for Those Who Know Iranian Persian or Dari

 

Ever heard someone with a stark generational difference to you use a word you can recognize but don’t use? (for me in my 20’s, this means someone using the word “billfolds” to refer to your wallets, “marks” for your grades, etc?)

 

In using my Tajik with speakers of the other two Persian languages, I’ve often heard “that makes sense to me, and its correct, but it has fallen out of usage in my country”, a bit like you might be able to understand idioms of Irish English or English as spoken in many Caribbean island nations, although you might not be able to use them yourself…including some you actually legitimately don’t know!

 

Unlike with, let’s say, speaking Danish to a Swedish person (did that only ONCE!) and not being understood, I haven’t had problems being understood in Tajik, although I usually have to explain why I speak Tajik and not Farsi (answer: curiosity + my father didn’t get to visit there, but maybe I will! + Central Asia and the -stan countries are KEWL

 

I would write more about how to learn it and how to use it, but the truth is that I’m sorta still a novice at Tajik, so maybe now’s not the best time.

But hey! September is Tajikistan’s independence day, so if I progress enough by then you’ll get treated to something!

Soli nav muborak! A Happy New Year!