Month: November 26, 2013

Allons prétendre.

C’est la même affaire
It’s the same thing
C’est la même chose

D’être assis icitte en silence
Après guetter les mains de la pendule
De demander pour le temps
“What time is it?”
Ça fait beau.

C’est la même affaire
It’s the same thing
C’est la même chose

De se frotter les doigts en silence
Après guetter les ronds de tes yeux
De parler pour la fin de semaine
“And the one before that?”
Ça s’a passé pareillement

C’est la même affaire
It’s the same thing
C’est la même chose

De s’en aller en silence
Après sourire avec les lèvres prudentes
De demander quoi faire
“Didn’t you have work to do?”
Je suppose je vas jamais connaître

Mais allons parler en code
Allons prétendre
Ça c’est la même chose

This was for another assignment in my Cajun French class. It’s meant to take advantage of diglossia, contrasting semantic extension, and dialectal variation as a sort of follow up to my point from a previous post about what’s lost when a language dies.

(Take it easy on me, by the way. This is my first attempt at poetry in French.)

We shall.

A recent assignment for my Cajun French class was to make a meme using the language. La Prairie des Femmes shared the memes with the interwebs (here and here). This seems like a great way to create an output for the language that can spread, particularly in writing where Cajun French and Louisiana Creole could both use some love.

A lot of these make use of puns that require the reader to understand English, Cajun French, and sometimes even Louisiana Creole. (Some familiarity with Cajun music doesn’t hurt either.) These cross-linguistic word games help build the case that you lose more than just the language itself when a language dies: you also lose comedic productivity.

Don’t be honte!

Honte means shame, har.

So La Prairie des Femmes blog has started up a forum, appropriately titled The Prairie des Femmes Forum. The blog itself is essentially about all things Cajun, which fairly regular includes French related topics. The forum sounds equally broad.

I wouldn’t be surprised if people started posting in French which would be great, not only for the practice, but also for connecting people from various regions of Louisiana so that they can share regional words and grammatical constructions with each other. I have a hunch that part of the lack of standardization in the local varieties of French stems from lots of isolated usage. For instance, it’s difficult to maintain vocabulary when the only two people you know that can speak the language also forget the word you’re looking for. This sort of thing could lead to isolated neologisms, English borrowings, or just the abandonment of the language all together even though there might be ten people in the next town over who remember the word(s) you need. Widely accessible public spaces for communication would probably go a long way to ruling out such a problem.

(I once joked with a friend of mine, who speaks imperfect Spanish, that we could just end creating our own special code if we practiced often together since we’d have to make up words and constructions without knowing if they make sense to the rest of the Spanish speaking world.)

Anyway, check it out, whether you’re interested in language or just Louisiana in general:

The Prairie des Femmes Forum

Why I love Why?

Because he/they keep putting out things like this:

I normally listen to music while studying but I always skip Why? because I constantly become distracted by the poetry of the lyrics. So deadpan that it’s easy to overlook the depth of what he’s saying. I might have to do some lengthy posts about what’s going on here linguistically someday, maybe when time expands to allow for extracurricular activities.

Papa Guédé will hear you out…

… as long as you speak French or Haitian Creole.

So I went to an actual voodoo ceremony for the first time the other night for Fête Guédé, probably more commonly known as either All Saints’ Day or Day of the Dead. It was held in New Orleans in a small home converted into a sort of temple down a dirt alley with all sorts of decorations:

Papa Guédé

It was a really nice ceremony. There were probably 30-35 people plus more passers-by who I think just wanted to watch a little out of curiosity. For nearly two hours they walked around an altar (I think it was to Papa Guédé himself), writing things on the ground with dust of some sort, lighting candles, and saying prayers. This was interspersed with chanting in a call-and-response style as well as drums which reminded me a lot of Cuban rumba. The aura of the whole thing was definitely otherworldly and it worked purely based on the fact that so many people were involved. I mean, they were singing in a language I couldn’t really understand–which may have been somewhat poorly pronounced Haitian Creole–and I find it hard to believe that they all actually spoke this language so here we have some 15 or so people who bothered to memorize chants in a language they don’t even know. It made the whole thing feel real and for all intents and purposes it was. It served a symbolic purpose that could be appreciated even if it didn’t actually do anything. The ceremony was meant to communicate with the dead and as long as the atmosphere was right and no one cared to question whether it really worked, it might as well have been working.

I did feel a little confused about the authenticity of the ceremony, though. The woman leading it had long ago been ordained in Haiti, where the religion is still prominent, but it still felt somewhat like appropriation. As I mentioned, the chanting was all done in what may have been Haitian Creole and the woman leading the ceremony was definitely speaking Standard French. The people of Haiti use these languages because those are their native languages but it’s unlikely to be the same for the faithful here. The use of a language that’s not understood does help serve the purpose of creating an experience that clearly feels demarcated from everyday life but it’s also questionable whether it’s a sign of pure exoticism as well. I mean, it’s unlikely that any of these people grew up practicing voodoo–even the woman in charge grew up Jewish–but, really, there’s no rule against converting. I suppose the part that makes it seem somewhat like appropriation is that the people leading it aren’t people who grew up in it necessarily.

Ultimately though, it’s a bit sad that voodoo has been almost completely reduced to horror stories and sales gimmicks as it seems like a quite beautiful religion. I plan on checking it out more and maybe talking to the different priestesses in the city about it as well as the way that language fits in.

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