Hot Topic: Speaking Indonesian

One of the perils of being Indonesian is the fact that we have the ability to speak one of the most useless languages (on the upside, talking about strangers become much easier). This means that the fluency of English is of utmost importance, and even two Indonesian businessmen might converse in English. But one of the worst things about the Indonesian language is its unapologetically crass ring to a foreigner's ears.

Let's get to it:

If French is the language of romance, then Indonesian is the language of humor. Being bilingual (or bi-and-a-half-lingual if you count me speaking a smidgen of Mandarin), I have learned to switch between both languages when my audience understands both. Speaking purely in English is pretty constraining for me, and so is speaking solely in Indonesian. But mix the two together and my thoughts become one. It fits like puzzle pieces. What I cannot express in one language, I can in another. I am rarely ever at loss for words because aku gampang express my thoughts dengan dua bahasa. Indonesians call this 'gado-gado', which is a traditional food that mixes a bunch of ingredients together to make a mash of awesome. Seriously, who knew that peanuts, salt, brown sugar, tofu, egg, green beans, potatoes, fermented soy bean, alfalfa sprouts, morning glory, cucumber, water chestnut, chili, fried onions, tamarind, sweet soya sauce, and crackers could make such a delicious concoction?

I realized that when I switch between Indonesian and English, I become two slightly different people. Even if I spew the little Mandarin I know I realize how much language changes a person. Speaking English shows a more mature and eloquent side of me. It is the language I use to think and write, so I become more of a scholar when I speak English. In Indonesian, I become more friendly. By using informal Indonesian, it ties two strangers together faster than English. Maybe because it's a language made to entertain. Most Indonesian jokes are golden, not because of the wit that many English jokes have, but simply because of the je ne sais quoi that the language possesses that allows comedy to seep through every sentence. Speaking Mandarin is a bit harsher for me. I say things more like an order. "Do this" or "do that", but I'm not one to speak on behalf of fluent speakers.

Growing up in Jakarta, I have a very different Indonesian accent than others. Jakarta is the New York of Indonesia; the concrete jungle, the city that never sleeps, the refuge people to go to to find success and freedom. The fast-paced life of Jakarta is mirrored in the way I talk so quickly, as opposed to my friends from around the country. Some of my friends accent their b's, d's, k's and g's so strongly that they sound like a constant drum roll. But Jakartans talk slightly angrier and more dominant than other cities. We don't really accent a specific letter, so speaking sounds like a mess of rolled r's, p's and k's.

In turn, speaking Indonesian in front of foreigners invite confused looks. "What language is that?" is usually the first question, followed by a mimic of our language which sounds absolutely nothing like what I just said. We have a lot of borrowed words from the Dutch who colonized us for 450 years, the Arabs as we are  a predominantly Muslim nation, the Chinese, and even English. So you can imagine what we sound like.

The Indonesian language doesn't have the roundedness of French, the melody of Italian, the uniqueness of Chinese, or the significance of Latin. It is a language rarely heard outside our own little group because only a handful would genuinely find interest in —what my sister's friend kindly put it as —"bird language."

I remember talking on the phone in Indonesian and my Australian friend would cringe in horror and say, "ew, stop!" saying that it is akin to caveman jargon. I have heard the not-so-funny imitations of Indonesian, many of them repeating nonsense like "debrekdebrekdebrekdebrek" which apparently is all they hear whenever I talk. Although people's inability to roll their "r"s is quite fascinating to me. Was anyone else trained to roll their r's by repeating the phrase "ular melingkar-lingkar di atas pagar"?

I have a tinge of uninvited shame whenever I speak in Indonesian in front of non-Indonesians because I have only met a handful of foreigners who liked the sound of the language. But after being constantly made fun of whenever I speak Indonesian, I have learned to save the language only for those who speak it. When in the presence of a foreigner, I'd switch to English, where it wouldn't bother anyone else.

There are other languages that probably ring like fingernails on a chalkboard for foreigners. Thai or Vietnamese for example, are equally not as glamorized as other languages. Southeast Asian languages are rarely heard in Hollywood films, unlike Chinese, Korean or Japanese, which have been widely accepted. So languages that fly under the radar sound, well, disgusting. Especially the English accent that comes with it.

The Indonesian English accent is unmistakable. The v's turn to p's, the rolled r's are still used, and the staccato of Indonesian is brought to the legato of English. Speaking English is like a ballerina dancing on thin ice, while speaking Indonesian is like jogging on a highway. It's quite difficult for native English speakers to pick up on the harshness of the language.

But the most interesting thing is that by being bilingual in English and Indonesian, my tongue is flexible enough to assimilate to any language on earth. I have been complimented on my ability to utter foreign phrases like a native, and I owe that to the ingenious mix of my English-Indonesian tongue.

It's a shame that speaking Indonesian in the presence of foreigners has such a negative connotation to it,  because I really do like speaking Indonesian. Although I get teased for not speaking it as fluently as a native, I still enjoy speaking it nonetheless. Especially speaking in formal Indonesian, where as my sister put it, sounds like a completely different language, one that is much more beautiful than the crassness of Jakartan slang.