Tethers - Part 3
By Oluwatoni Adesanya
Tinfoil-Tim: This is the final instalment of ‘Tethers’. Read Part 1 and Part 2 to catch up with the story so far.
Usually the market was a spirit lifter for me, a place of wonder, excitement, warmth. Today, though, all I could notice was the wealth of languages I heard; greetings in Naftali, prices and haggling in Freckish, even what I parsed to be an arrest in Dugashivyan. Déànàli, Xiantian, and none I could understand beyond basic salutations and rudimentary questions.
Today, all I saw were all these people gossiping, having private conversations, sharing secrets I would never know, connections I could never feel, emotions that passed me by. Today I bought nothing, because I knew that it didn't matter if I wore my hair straight, spoke and wrote in flawless Universal, dressed as the Safikania did. No amount of food or clothes or sheer pretence would bring me back home.
Where? Even? Is? It?
I kept my head down, walking as quickly as I could, and found I had walked right up to the Town House. Usually there was some sort of entertainment up - a play, singalongs, theatrics club.
The universe was taunting me. I could tell. There was no other possible explanation. Otherwise I wouldn’t have seen a notice proclaiming “Language lessons for all! Safikani classes available after Cygnet falls on work nights! All ages, cultures and proficiencies are welcome.”
Speaking Universal and Safikani from infancy was useful, without a doubt - compare millions of speakers each with about 300,000 Farane speakers. But, had I known that I would have a chance to pick both up later in life, would I have focused wholeheartedly on Farane? Would I still have a colony? A home?
There’s a reason I’m writing this in Universal. Safikani is my first language; it would make sense to write this fully in that language. But I’m getting rid of these pages, and I need whoever finds them to be able to read this; I can’t be sure of those odds if I write in Safikani. I guess you already know that I had no chance in Farane to begin with.
I cannot fully describe the pain and loss I felt as I sat at that speaking test five orbits ago and realised I could never truly be one of my people. Nobody prepares you for the fact that, even with tutoring, you will never have a full understanding of your language, your culture, everything that makes you.
So I have a warning for whoever reads this. Don’t make my mistake and assume you will always have a chance to “pick it back up”. Know who you are and where you come from, because there may come a day when you have to leave.
I dreamed of a triumphant return, when I could come back and show the colony that I did get it down, I did belong with them. But I’m starting to see that even if I go back, I’ll never be welcome like I once was. The shame is too much for me.
Happy 5 orbit anniversary to me…! I look forward to 5 more in loneliness.
Tinfoil-Tim: I don’t know how to feel about this - I was initially looking forward to seeing a more personal one, but I’m struggling with it now. I would’ve liked to say our protagonist is being a little dramatic, but her situation appears to be real enough. Nothing like I’ve ever experienced, but it’s a bit Draconian to have citizens ridiculed for being unable to speak a language. Certainly that doesn’t happen… surely?