One night, I tried—with my limited Swahili—to explain to my Baba one of the differences between America and Tanzania, as he’d asked me what’s different. The thing that came to mind was greetings—or lack thereof in many parts of the U.S. In the village culture of Tanzania, greetings are of utmost importance. When you pass someone—especially if they’re alone and you’re alone—you stop, greet, shake hands, and often hold that position holding hands for the duration of the conversation.
It starts something like this:
Shikamoo! (greeting to an older person than you)
Marahaba! (greeting to a younger person than you, or response to ‘Shikamoo’)
Habari zenu? (‘What’s your news?”)
Nzuri / Salama / Safi (each to any degree, as in “sana,” much, or “kabisa,” totally)
If it’s in the morning, you will ask or will be asked how you woke up (“Umeamkaje?”) or how you slept (“Umelalaje?”), which elicits an answer, “Salama,” which means ‘peacefully, safe, or in good health.’
What I find most interesting about social greetings is two things. The first is that the greeting “Shikamoo” (a greeting to an older person, pronounced ‘sheek-a-MOW’) is used even by some youngsters who appear around my age. I think I just think I look younger than I actually do to them, but also, I’ve come to the conclusion that sometimes they say it because I’m white, they know I’m here as a teacher, or because I’m in a collared shirt (for teaching). It just occurred to me that it could also be the uncertainty of how to tell the age of a white person or the shyness of not knowing what to say, in some cases. Sometimes one of us volunteers will “shikamoo” someone out of respect who, as they neared us, turned out to be closer to our age or even younger. It’s not always easy to tell until they open their mouths (judging age by their teath). The watoto (kids) will look up at us with wide eyes and expressions of wonder on their faces as they say “shikao,” removing many of the consonants in a colloquial manner.
The second thing that I find very interesting that I think you will, too, is the use of the word “pole” (pronounced “poll-ay”). It generally means, “I’m sorry for your troubles.” At first exposure to it, it seemed like an apology to me, which made me hesitant to use it, because I didn’t feel I had anything to be sorry for. I can empathize but not take credit for something I didn’t cause. After a while, I’ve become more accustomed to its use. It’s actually a sympathetic expression of compassion, which is nice. For example, if a woman is carrying a large load on her head, you can say “Pole, Mama.” Also, if someone trips, you can say “pole.” Apparently, its completely acceptable for my Baba, Mama, aunt, dada… or anyone… to assume that whatever activity I’ve come from has been taxing for me, and upon my return home, greet me with “Pole!” At first, I looked at them with puzzlement, but now I just say, “Asante,” thank you. Sometimes I feel I merit sympathy for my work (long hours, long walks or heat), in which case I hope I’m expressing as much gratitude for their sympathy as I feel.
One of my fellow wazungu (white people) commented that maybe because the culture/language doesn’t permit for people to respond to “Habari” (effectively, “What’s your news?”) with anything less favorable than “Nzuri tu” (“Just good.”), they use the expression “pole” to express sympathy for the unsaid hardships people supposedly have. So, because they can’t verbally express them, the other person will acknowledge them anyway.
On top of those two things is also the translation of the more automatically accepted greetings I use. “Habari” is used like “How are you,” but actually means “news.” And you tell them the quality of your news (remember, not anything worse than “nzuri tu”) or the quality of the news they ask after. For example, “Habari asubuhi/mchana/jioni?” is “what’s your news of the morning/afternoon/evening?” This can continue for ages, asking about anything under the sun.
Also, you may have heard the greeting “Jambo!” before. Don’t say that in Swahililand. You’ll be tagged as a tourist right away. You should conjugate it and say “Hujambo” for you, singular, or “Hamjambo” for you, plural. These phrases are actually conjugated with negation and to my understanding end up translated as something like, “Don’t you have any problems?” If someone greeted you this way—or rather, asked you this question—you would answer “Sijambo,” as in, “No, I don’t have any problems.” It’s also very normal, even in casual greetings with people you’ve never met before, to ask, “Mama/Baba/Familia yako hajambo?” (about their mother/father/family).
Finally, often times I will come home in the afternoon or evening and have a full exchange with, say, the aunt, during which all I ever say is “Asante/ Asante sana,” because that is the response that what she says elicits. Over and over again. To the point where I feel like I’m just moving my mouth and vocal chords without feeling… or the feeling that I’m becoming dumb. Okay, not exactly. But I’m not kidding about only saying “Asante”:
“Karibu nyumbani!... Asante… Karibu tena!... Asante… Pole, Dada… Asante… Karibu sana!... Asante sana!”
I feel like I’m forgetting something.
OH! And they ALWAYS ask if I’m tired. Umechoka? Again, at first I was taken aback, like… no, actually I’m not. Should I be? I’m learning to take that in stride and not say, “Hapana” (no) and just give in and say “Kidogo” (a little bit), unless I’m actually tired, in which case I say so, to which they say—you guessed it—pole.
