Annyeongha-Say What?

They say (more specifically, the members of Cinderella say) you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. Such is the case with my Swahili. No, I haven’t forget the language that’s been my life line for the last 2 years, but the longer I’m away from Kenya the more I’m realizing that there is a critical worldwide shortage of Kiswahili conversationalists. As fun as it is to see the baffled look on people’s faces when I respond to any non-English question, comment, or tongue twister in my East African dialect of choice, I would prefer for their befuddlement to be a result of the illogicality of my response as opposed to a plain old language barrier. I may be jumping to conclusions, but I have a sinking feeling that I am going to dearly miss conversing in a language where the difference between “I’d like roast chicken” and “I’d like to roast you” is the stressing of a single syllable. I guess for now I’ll just have to put my pride on the shelf and my Swahili on the back burner. First order of business: try to stop agreeing to everything by saying “haya” (Swahili for OK) which sounds far too much like “hai” (Japanese for yes) to be throwing around in a country that’s had it’s share of unpleasant run-ins with the Land of the Rising Sun.