Portland State Magazine Winter 2008

"The tribes are still around, bur they're adapting-assimilat– ing," Childs says. "Many people there don't understand what we're doing. But the old people who speak Mani are so flat– tered. The last time I was there, we found two old la.dies who had been refused permission to sing at a Susu festival . We interviewed them, and they were so graceful that we had given chem a cha.nee to speak." Childs estimates that there are fewer than 40 fluent speakers ofKrim left in Sierra Leone, and even fewer speakers ofBom, all scattered throughout the country's swampy coastal areas. "These people are really hard to find-they're all old, they don't speak it every day, it's a real challenge, but it's rewarding," he says. Under Childs' direction, the members of the Document– ing Krim and Born Project team will search out chose who speak the language, then document chem via audiotape and videotape during Sierra Leone's dry season, from September through June. There will be two years of intensive fieldwork, followed by a year of writing up the results. TH E WORK IS GRINDING-and, at times, distressing. Childs, who speaks fluent Spanish and French, as well as Kisi, Swahili, Liberian English, and a smattering of many other Afri– can dialects, lost 40 pounds the lase time he was in Africa. He's endured malaria and had guns pointed at him. The region's civil unrest has spawned horrific violence in recent decades. "111e physical context and grinding poverty are the two most salient features," he says. "The fact that the culture is so different is obviously another challenge. It's very hard work– you have to have a sense of yourself, but you also have to have rhe ability co subvert yourself and melt into the other culture." Tucker Childs, professor of linguistics (far left photo, on the right}, interviews people in Guineawho speak languages that have all but died out. Childs' situation is a little unusual because no one in Sierra Leone has asked him co come and document the country's disappearing languages, and he is pessimistic that they can be saved. Bur the project is part of Childs' efforts to bring healing to a region that has known inestimable sorrow and war since he first lived there as a Peace Corps volunteer. "It's helping them co feel char their language and culture is legitimate," Childs says. Restoring the languages co viability, however, is another matter. "Thar's up co the people," Childs says. WHAT WILL BE THE END RESULT of Childs' years of work? "The final product depends on what people wane," he says. "We will definitely produce a dictionary and will also make available videos, recordings, pedagogical materials, whatever media they can use. Ultimately everything will be digitized and scored at rhe University of London and here. We've filled two 50-gig servers with what we already have." So why is Childs willing to dedicate years of his professional life searching for disappearing languages in the ba.ckcouncry ofAfrica? "I do it because it's something that would otherwise be lose," he says. "It's part of the world's cultural and linguistic heritage. If there are no other languages left co study, what are we going co do-study English all the time? Language is cul– ture, and we are left poorer for the loss of a culture. I'm struck by the fact chat the same places char are experiencing a loss of biodiversity are also experiencing a loss oflinguiscic diversity. The parallels are exact." ■ Jeff Kuechle, a Portlandfreelance writer, wrote the article "Gen– eration Boomerang" in thefall 2007 Porcland Scace Magazine. WINTER 2008 PORTLAND STATE MAGAZINE 15