Code switching and (mis)communication

I have always excelled at code switching, sometimes much to my dismay. I'm not a linguist, so I use the term "code switching" loosely, to describe the ability to transfer between multiple languages, accents or dialects depending on one's social surroundings and context. In high school, I discovered my adept and subconscious tendency to code switch when I began noticing that I spoke differently with my friends at school, in the classroom, and at home. I was afraid it was a sign of inauthenticity or a multiplicity of identities, I was worried I was a poseur and I didn't even know it. (These fears were underscored when my sister once told me she could tell who I was talking to on the phone by how I spoke!) My college friends allayed these concerns by introducing to me the concept of code switching and so, with less aversion, I have watched myself from afar navigate through wildly different communities and contexts and seen my speech change shape -subconsciously- as I go. Code switching causes (or enables) me to shift vocabulary, intonation, and some grammatical structures when I call my bank in the UK for example. As I put off the line, my code switches back to align with my family. An even more striking switch occurs when I visit a diverse urban school or basketball court... Here in Sierra Leone, my propensity to code switch facilitated a rapid adoption of Krio pronunciation, making me tohk Krio clear, but as you will see, this enviable research skill has some drawbacks, such as...

The secret to my lack of communication? Instead of posting messages and stories to make a dent in the backlog, I have spent my time pondering why I fail to communicate said messages and stories. I have come up with two winning theories.

1. The backlog of un-relayed and often-inexpressible experiences is intimidating, and I don't know where to start, especially now that chronologically went out the window.

2. I have realized that here I not only code switch, which for me is a painless and subconscious application of relevant speech patterns, I now think in Krio. ("Krio" is Krio for Creole, and is the lingua franca of Sierra Leone.) To type emails or blog posts, or what have you, I have to pull myself out of my brain and reinsert my thoughts into my dormant English-speaking mind. Yu see di problem?? People been tell me seh, if ah de tohk Krio, ah fo poil mi Engrish. An now look watin don pas. Ah no mean for tohk seh, na pohfect Krio ah de tohk no moh, buh mos time ah no jus tohk pan Krio, ah de tink pan am back. Dis na di problem!

(You see the problem? -this is a favorite Krio phrase and one I use often- People told me that, if I speak Krio, I'll mess up my English. And now look what happened. I don't mean to say that I speak perfect Krio -hah! as if. but so people like to tell me, and I admit, I let it go to my head sometimes- but most times, I don't just speak in Krio, I also think in Krio. This is the problem!) Also a problem, no one really reads or writes in Krio. Obviously no one in my limited audience of friends and family reads Krio, but Krio -speaking, -reading and -writing people moreover generally apply their literacy skills to English. The richness of the lingua franca is as an oral language, in my inexpert opinion.

And as I try to mitigate the Kringlish that wants to spill onto the page, my loss of vocab and inadvertent inversion of grammatical structure distracts me back to the here and now (i.e. Sierra Leone research mission). And as a result, I don't email, or post, or otherwise extract my thoughts from the present context. Which isn't to say I don't want to - Lord knows what fate awaits me when I have two weeks to prepare a conference paper in English in (where else?) England - it just goes to show that lack of electricity, poor internet connection, and litany of other more pressing responsibilities are not primarily responsible for my communication failures. What to express and how is far more daunting.

Now, I'm going to poil (spoil - ruin) my sister's positive assessment that my blog was getting funnier (just read the bold to preserve a semblance of lightheartedness):

Communication Accommodation Theory
The Communication Accommodation Theory (CAT), developed by Howard Giles, professor of communication, at UCSB, seeks to explain the cognitive reasons for code-switching, and other changes in speech, as a person seeks either to emphasize or to minimize the social differences between him- or herself and the other person(s) in conversation. Prof. Giles posits that when speakers seek approval in a social situation they are likely to converge their speech with that of the other person speaking. This can include, but is not limited to, the language of choice, accent, dialect, and para-linguistic features used in the conversation. In contrast to convergence, speakers might also engage in divergent speech, with which an individual person emphasizes the social distance between him- or herself and other speakers by using speech with linguistic features characteristic of his or her own group.

Okay, I know it's a little dense, but I think Prof. Giles is on point, and I don't think it is a calculated or rational choice (at least not for me), but rather a natural byproduct of sincere social interaction. My research certainly requires a readiness to minimize the social differences (which are eyewateringly vast) between myself and my informants, and engender social approval not just for access and information, but also for safety and enjoyment. So, with that, ah tell God tenki ("I thank God" - the Krio phrase par excellence, applicable as response to any question) for my code switching skills and promise to not only reflect on my experiences, but code switch them back to you in English...eventually.