I have this little fantasy of arriving at the Addis airport in November for the 10 km race and speaking fluent Amharic with the customs officials, etc. Hey, a girl has gotta have her dreams!
My teacher, Abebe Worku, is very tolerant of my enthusiasms. He thinks that even after all these years, there is some residual memory of the language somewhere deep in my bones and it will surprise me when it resurfaces. Wouldn’t it be nice if it resurfaced to give me some wonderful proficiency??
It’s silly, but I enjoy the recorded conversations on the cd’s that come with my text. I listen to them just to surround myself with the language and it gives me the same contented feeling I had lying in bed early that Saturday morning so long ago, sleepily listening to Elli-täti and Martta-täti jabbering away as they started baking karjalan piirakkoita and sounding so like Mom that I thought I was at home in Canada, not on a break from school visiting my relatives in Finland. The music of the Ethiopian language is powerfully evocative for me without my even being able to actually understand much of it at all.
43 things: learn to speak Amharic
Labels: memory and language