“Did you know that in Japan if the trains are running late, which is very seldom, the warders come around and apologise to every commuter for the inconvenience. On top of that, every commuter is issued with a letter confirming that the trains were delayed saving the employee the embarrassment of explaining and apologizing to the employer,” a guy in a neat white shirt and black pants explains to the guy standing next to him who is perusing a page of his newspaper.
Without taking his eyes off the page the man replies: “Well… Die is Africa; who cares.”
“I’m just trying to draw a comparison between the ethics and cultures,” the guy in white defends his statement.
Kan djy nie jou mond hou nie huh? the guy with the newspaper thinks to himself.
“Ek ry al vyf-en-dêtag jaa trein en laat kô is soe oud soesie ark my broe,” he answers.
For a few moments they travel in silence with the mechanical sound of the train almost overwhelming.
The guy in the white shirt curiously peeps into the other one’s newspaper. He looks at the guy holding the paper and enquires: “When is the shooting ever going to stop bru?”
The newspaper guy takes his time to answer while he thinks to himself: “Djy kan nou ophou Engels praat.”
“Waa skiet hulle sien djy?” he asks.
With a surprised look on his face the guy in white shoots back, “There!” and points to the picture in the paper.
“Sien; djy wietie waa nie. Djy kan nie Afrikaans lies ’ie,” the newspaper guy shoots back even faster.
“I can, but I prefer English. It is my home language,” the guy in white explains.
The newspaper guy’s eyes keep browsing the page. “Sien djy ek hou die koeran met twie hanne vas en ek staan op al twie biene? Djy moet al twie tale kan praat om jouself te kan balance,” he responds without looking up; his eyes still buried in the paper.
“I can speak Afrikaans, but my first response is always English. My Afrikaans sounds hectic man,” the guy in white retorts almost as if he is feeling sorry for himself.
“Ek kan Engels praat maa is comfortable in Afrikaans. Ek praat net Engels in self-defence,” the newspaper guy says sheepishly as he looks at the other guy for a second.
Looking baffled the guy in white asks: “What do you mean by self-defence?”
“Net as ek moet Engels praat want die plek is mos loaded met foreigners en wat wiet hulle van Afrikaans?” he explains his somewhat strange motive.
Again they are silent for a few moments.
“So do you think Afrikaans is a dying language?” the guy in white asks after their little interlude.
“Nooitie my pel; ôs praat Afrikaans hie innie land; different tonge vir different regions but Afrikaans praat ôs, soe laat jou kinnes die taal lee. Doen hulle ’n favour; vat my advice,” the newspaper guy explains, this time looking the guy straight in the face.
“My mother is English; my father is Afrikaans. I attended an English school and both of them speak English to me, but my father speaks Afrikaans all the time when he’s angry or upset,” the guy with the white shirt sheds more light on his preference for the English language.
“Vloek jou ma terug in Afrikaans?” the newspaper guy asks, closing the paper in order to turn the page.
“My mother never swears. She only says ‘God help us’ when my father goes crazy in Afrikaans.”
“Sê vir jou pa hy moet next time try om in Engels te skel as hy weer kwaad raak en dan kyk djy hoe hy gaan struggle. Sal djy my broe?” the newspaper guy suggests with a twinkle in his eyes.
A smile appears on the white shirt guy’s face. He thinks for a moment then answers, “Hy gaan sy tong raak byt buddy.”
They both burst out laughing. The newspaper guy gathers himself and adds: “My goeiste goeie genugtig’ gaan jou ma sê.”
The train enters the station and both of them move towards the door.
“Djy moet ’n koerrekte dag het my broe,” the newspaper guy bids his friend farewell.
“Cool man; same to you,” the guy in white replies as they part ways on the platform.
A language barrier isn’t always a stumbling block to peace and harmony.
***
Urban Dictionary
dêtag – The Afrikaaps word for “dertig” which is the Afrikaans word for “thirty”.
jaa – The Afrikaaps word for “jaar” which is the Afrikaans word for “year”.
soesie – The Afrikaaps term for “soos die” which in Afrikaans means “like the”.
wietie – The Afrikaaps term for “weet nie” which in Afrikaans means “do not know”.
koeran – The Afrikaaps word for “koerant” which is the Afrikaans word for “newspaper”.
biene – The Afrikaaps word for “bene” which is the Afrikaans word for “legs”.
nooitie – The Afrikaaps term for “nooit nie” which in Afrikaans means “never”.
kinnes – The Afrikaaps word for “kinders” which is the Afrikaans word for “children”.
vloek – The Afrikaans word for “swear / curse”.
skel – The Afrikaans word for “scold”.
koerrekte – The Afrikaaps word for “korrekte” which is the Afrikaans word for “correct” in this case meaning “fantastic”.
“Kan djy nie jou mond hou nie huh?”
“Can’t you be quiet?”
(Literally translates to ‘Can’t you hold your mouth?’)
“Ek ry al vyf-en-dêtag jaa trein en laat kô is soe oud soesie ark my broe.”
“I have been riding the train for thirty-five years and being late is as old as the ark my brother.”
“Sien; djy wietie waa nie. Djy kan nie Afrikaans lies ’ie.”
“See; you don’t know where. You cannot read Afrikaans.”
“Sien djy ek hou die koeran met twie hanne vas en ek staan op al twie biene? Djy moet al twie tale kan praat om jouself te kan balance.”
“You see I am holding the newspaper with two hands and I am standing on both legs? You must be able to speak both languages to be able to balance yourself.”
“Ek kan Engels praat maa is comfortable in Afrikaans. Ek praat net Engels in self-defence.”
“I am able to speak English but I am comfortable in Afrikaans. I only speak English in self-defence.”
“Net as ek moet Engels praat want die plek is mos loaded met foreigners en wat wiet hulle van Afrikaans?”
“It is only when it is a must that I speak English because this place is loaded with foreigners and what do they know of Afrikaans?”
“Nooitie my pel; ôs praat Afrikaans hie innie land; different tonge vir different regions but Afrikaans praat ôs, soe laat jou kinnes die taal lee. Doen hulle ’n favour; vat my advice.”
“Never my pal; we speak Afrikaans here in this country; different tongues for different regions but it is Afrikaans we speak, so let your children learn the language. Do them a favour; take my advice.”
“Vloek jou ma terug in Afrikaans?”
“Does your mother swear back (at him) in Afrikaans?”
“Sê vir jou pa hy moet next time try om in Engels te skel as hy weer kwaad raak en dan kyk djy hoe hy gaan struggle. Sal djy my broe?”
“Tell your dad that next time he should try to scold in English when he is angry and then you look at how he will struggle. Would you my brother?”
“Hy gaan sy tong raak byt buddy.”
“He will bite his tongue buddy.”
“ ‘My goeiste goeie genugtig’ gaan jou ma sê.”
“ ‘My goodness good gracious’ your mother will say.”
“Djy moet ’n koerrekte dag het my broe.”
“You must have a fantastic day my brother.”