Living in another country makes it vital to build bridges instead of walls. In my case, I don’t think that my time in India would amount to half as much if it weren’t for learning words and phrases in Hindi. Actually, not just words and phrases, but how to read some of the Devanagari script too!
Unlike most of the other British Council TAs, I am placed alone, and in a girls’ hostel. This has motivated me to really persevere with picking up bits of vocab from the girls that live here. That, and the fact that living on your own, you need to find some sort of way to amuse yourself!
My Hindi is basic, I can’t write sentences or recognise most words. I can’t say more than a dozen phrases (and their negatives) and about thirty additional words. Yet the difference it’s made to my time here (both in the hostel and outside of it) has been enormous. Often, I hear people saying that I shouldn’t invest too much effort in learning Hindi as;
- “everyone speaks English anyway”
- “you’re only here for a few months”
- “English is the language of business here and most educated people speak it”
- “Hindi sounds like a difficult language – and when are you ever going to use it after this?”
Of course, there have also been those that have taken the time to encourage me, and teach me different phrases, as well as correcting my accent! For that I’m grateful, and here are just a few examples of times in which an understanding of Hindi has altered my experience of daily life here;
- Driving to Ranthambore from Jaipur and being able to read the names of the villages that we were passing through, which included “Moonpur” and “Goth” – so cool!
- Being able to ask our driver for the weekend the word for “sorry” after we couldn’t find him parked on a busy shopping street (it’s sharma, though there are several synonyms).
- Being able to actually converse with shopkeepers in Jaipur about their business, wish them Diwali mubarak ho! (which convinced one stationer to try and present me with a free notebook) and get a far better deal than the other tourists by exclaiming “Uncle! Bahut mehengra” (“too expensive!”) until the price of anything was at least halved. This also had a practical side to it, if the friends that I was shopping with wanted to see something in a different size or colour, then I could ask for that too 🙂
- Replying to someone in my corridor with Dhanyavaad/धन्यवाद rather than “thank-you” and receiving a smile and a high-five!
Of course I still make ridiculous mistakes when speaking Hindi. I’ve accidentally asked my boss “what are you?” instead of “how are you?” and misunderstood the question “how are you finding India?” for “how long have you been in India?”. I read words where I can’t tell whether certain segments are supposed to be “oo” or “ee”. Yet I can’t imagine how much more closed my life would be without my little grasp of Hindi. In the hostel it’s quite often the difference between a conversation and silence. I’ll continue to make mistakes, but through my efforts, I will be rewarded with gentle corrections (“it’s hoon not ho if you’re a woman”, a Jaipur clothes shop owner patiently explained) and a respect that leads to acceptance, if not complete understanding.