Sister Mumba

We are strangers in a strange land. Nowhere is that more obvious than in speech. We speak English. The Malawians here in the north speak Tumbuka. There are no similarities between the two.

So how do we communicate? Well, English is the official language, but that message hasn’t hit the villages yet. Also, our nannies here at the nursery aren’t on the government language plan either. So that means lots of Tumbuka.

Occasional tutoring got us started and resulted in some successes. The nannies are always willing to help, and ever patient with our verbal experiments. One morning I entered the dining room, looked around cheerily and asked how things were going at home. What the nannies heard was: “how are things at the frog house”. Ten startled faces told me something went wrong there. Then we all had a good laugh.

Helpful observers tell us that we will “pick up the language” if we are here long enough. But the real story is that if we don’t work hard, we won’t speak Tumbuka. Occasional tutoring wasn’t working well. Enter Sister Mumba.

Sister Mumba is a nun at St. Peter’s Academy down the road from us. She has taught for years. She laughs a lot. And she gives homework.

Dutifully we go to Sister Mumba several times a week for lessons. She not only teaches Tumbuka, she teaches cultural appropriateness. Never go into a room and begin talking business first thing. Always take time for the proper greetings. Greet, ask about a person and their family, be human. Business happens only after the personal side of life. Not an easy lesson for those of us who like to get down to business.

But we press on, trying our best to fit in and learn the language. Wish us luck. Tiowonanenge sono sono. (See you later)