. . . and some are like pages breeze-flipped in the back seat; like wind through the trees, each leaf a thought, each spot on the deer's back a postmark; like the moon-drained hoot of a cold owl, like the rat-a-tat/ding of a well-oiled manual, like the purr of a tuned router, like the rum/dub-dub of a storm-dome drive, like the tap-tap/hum of a Ramtext Selectrone, like ice crackling on the Neva, like corn dreading the sickle, like geese over Kyoto, like mules over the steppe, like rain on the thin tin roof of the mom-and-pop factory in Manila . . .
Why ponder the sounds of tongues? Expecting someone?
When Dr. Exigente stepped to the podium that first day of our course in Articulatory Strategies for Linguists, we expected the worst. Karl kept his neck stretched to one side or the other, resigned to missing a word or two every few minutes for the rest of his life. Mike had finally got down pat the knack of sporadic-snapping "Wha-What?" or "Eh?" even when no one spoke.
Dr. Exigente introduced himself and presented his qualifications in that week's neo-Latin. He'd shaved his beard and mustache to better demonstrate the build-up and release of expressive energy in the face, jaw and neck muscles: Moderately motile, not challengingly tense as in Burgos, not disturbingly suggestive as in Cienfuegos. He spoke in modern Ibero-Romance, a demanding tongue, intimidating to the unskilled:
"Muy buenos dias y bienvenidos a todos ustedes agudos y listos. Me llaman Juan Ruy Eleuterio Jose-Luis Exigente Revillagigedo, profesor y catedratico emerito de los institutos pedagogicos de Guadalquivir, Tegucigalpa y Fuenteovejuna. Mi campo de especializacion --"
[The word that always slowed me down]
"-- es la fonetica articulatoria, en conjunto con la auditativa y teorica. Mi clase es su clase."
He'd have continued but for the thunder in the auditorium as we rose and cheered. After three clear, sparkling sentences we knew we were in the presence of a master. The fourth sentence told us the taquitos and refrescos, after class, were on him.
If we ever learn the Tongues of the Outer Worlds, we're doomed to pronounce them too clearly to be understood. But they'd appreciate the effort. And Dr. Exigente would be proud.
A.Y. Tanaka lives and writes in Kealakekua, Hi.
E-mail: tankay@hgea.org
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