Switch better than a Nintendo Switch?
We were thrilled with the responses on our Facebook page to our code-switching question! Our dad has always said that Malaysia is a place of mixed languages and, since watching my niece learn Chinese and English at the same time, I’ve become more acutely aware to my code-switching than before. Part of the reason for my code-switching is because I really can’t find the right expressions or words or phrases in one language so I switch to another to express it. There’s a lot to be said about the sound and image of certain words and phrases in different languages - sometimes translating things really doesn’t retain the original humour or sincerity or application.
“Aiya, why so slow, boi tahan leow!” is something really hard to translate into a single language while still retaining its initial expression - which I’m assuming is something of a fondness lined with a little impatience. I’ve been thinking up various translations into English, but everything I come up with seems a bit rude or frustrated:
“Oh come on, what’s taking so long?”
“Hurry up! I can’t stand this anymore!”
“You’re so slow!”
“Goodness me, this is taking forever.”
Now, if anyone said any of these things, I’d be thinking that they’re getting a tad agitated and I’d probably back off. But telling me you “boi tahan leow” adds a touch of familiarity - even friendliness. It’s amicable, and the expression affable.
The more I think of it, the more I really admire the tenacity and the expression of Bahasa Rojak (a pidgin language of Malaysia that mixes various languages including English, Malay, Mandarin and other Chinese dialects). Not only does it have a unique expression, it has a unique history and culture. Languages often seem to take on lives of their own because they imitate the life of the people speaking them.
I never thought that code-switching - something that can be seen as grammatically incorrect or a sign of poor education - can be viewed as something so powerful and beautiful. It’s powerful because it enables a mode of communication that, without, we’d not have realised our current realities. I’d really love to write another blog post on that… we’ll see if I can!
This doesn’t mean that I want my niece only to speak with a pidgin language. Rather, I hope she grows to understand that language can be utilised in its all its forms: stable and unstable, standard and informal. Ultimately, we hope her multilingual exposure inspires her to discover different cultures and appreciate their strength and beauty in their own right - not in the right of standing as an observer.
Code-switching is nothing to be ashamed of. Multilingualism, too. They bear a people’s culture and history within it and an individual’s experience of language and life.
So many switches in the world: light switches, computer switches, network switches, and now code-switching! I’ve started reading a tiny bit on pidgin and creole languages... It’s made me realise so much about what code-switching actually means to me.
How would you translate “Aiya, why so slow, boi tahan leow!”? Are there any other words/phrases/expressions that you think are super hard to translate? What languages do you speak and do you ever find yourself code-switching? Your code-switching could be mid-sentence or mid-conversation or between different people! It’s an amazing skill! (which is another reason we’d love for my niece and nephew to eventually master it!) Leave a comment below! We loved seeing your responses on our Facebook page so thank you all for your code-switching contributions!
See you around!