Seven things I learned through attempting to learn Malay

(From Lisa) During our second 90-day visa sojourn in Malaysia, I determined to learn more Malay, and set about the task with disciplined determination. This recently ground to a halt. My motivation ran out, and I am quitting. I have been pondering the reasons for that. They range from simple observations about language learning to big-picture questions about how cross-cultural work is done today to reflections on how I’m doing in this season. Here’s what I’m concluding for now: 

1. It’s not hard to learn the basics, and it was worth it to try. Malay has borrowed many words from English, which gave me an initial boost. My favorites are: sekolah (school), bas (bus), kounter, aktivitas (activity), sistem, and biskit.  I memorized the top ten greeting exchanges easily and so can now wish people I meet a very good morning, afternoon, or evening. I can thank them, tell them the food is delicious, or excuse myself when I bump into them. I learned a few other common phrases like, “little by little” that I can throw into an otherwise-English conversation and garner a smile. Beyond the cognate and greeting words, I focused on amassing a basic vocabulary, in part because the grammar is quite simple (verb forms stay the same in past, present, and future, etc.). One goal, as a resident who wanted to feel more at home as I walked around, was to be able to read signs, so I simply wrote down words I saw on signs and learned those words. This means my working vocabulary of Malay is somewhat weighted towards words like, “Emergency! Fire Exit! Danger!” It’s quite exciting.  Beyond that, I learned the colors, numbers, emotions, days of the week, foods, and thirty or so common activities—eat, sleep, walk, etc.
2. But, how to get from there to greater fluency? It was as if I had made myself comfortable on the porch of a locked house. The folks inside waved in a friendly way through the window, but no one made a move to open the door--even when I knocked. I asked several Malaysian friends if they’d be willing to sit with me and converse, and they all politely declined. This raised the bigger question, not of how, but why? Why was I trying to learn Malay, and did the reasons stand up to scrutiny?
3. I realized as I contemplated quitting that I have labored (with not a small helping of shame) under a prevailing understanding of cross-cultural work, loosely labeled, “incarnational.” This was the gold standard of ministry. As a college student, I listened in awe to the stories of workers who spent their first three months or more in language-learning so they could fully enter the culture where they were serving. I was particularly inspired by those who followed a specific method that involved immersing oneself in the language upon landing in a place, speaking one’s own language as little as possible, and using the language learning process to build friendships. This allowed the learner to approach the new culture as a humble learner, receiving the gifts of its residents as they taught him or her. I have friends who have found this experience incredibly life-giving and one which launched many fruitful years of ministry in a new land. I think the method is well-intended and even in many settings still viable. I no longer think it fits the context of Malaysia in the 21st century. The humility, willingness to suffer, and eagerness to connect at the heart of the impulse to be ‘incarnational’ is laudable. But the goal of being ‘incarnational’ that pushed the strong emphasis on language learning in cross-cultural work has come in for some re-examination. Some expressions of it have had unintended consequences, which are nicely summarized here https://jtoddbillings.com/2012/12/the-problem-with-incarnational-ministry  Maybe I’m just substituting one member of the Trinity’s unique work for another when I say that my goal is to pattern my work here after the Paraclete, the one who comes alongside. I don’t claim to come alongside bringing all the help the Holy Spirit does (far from it!), but I bring what I can and hopefully offer it in humility. I do think that is a more replicable model for humans than the Incarnation, which was, after all, a one-time event.
4. I have learned even more through this process what a unique country Malaysia is. Its relationship to the language of Bahasa Malay is a microcosm of its challenges as it navigates a complex story of migration, identity, and belonging. Many Malay people are proud to know English and eager to greet me in it. In fact, they seem slightly insulted that I appear to be assuming they don’t know English!  If I thank them in Malay, they often say “you’re welcome” in English. The Chinese and Indians who live here know Malay from primary school. They use it when communicating with Malays (and they can read those danger signs on the roads), and they slip into it naturally to joke with each other with some humorous phrases. Beyond that, they may speak Mandarin or Tamil with their grandparents, depending on how many generations their family has been here, but they use English for everything else. Excellent English.   
5. Malaysia has many refugees and recent immigrants. In my language-learning zeal, I once greeted a man who looked Malay to me in Malay and he stared at me blankly then replied in English, “I don’t speak Malay. I’m a refugee from Burma.” At St. Paul’s, the theological college where I do most of my teaching, our students are primarily of Indian and Chinese descent, but we also have refugees from Pakistan, Burma, and Yemen.
6. Something else happened during the two months I was trying to learn Malay. I used one session of the Gospel of Mark class that Rich and I are co-teaching to give a basic introduction to the Greek language and how to navigate the online tools for exegesis. While preparing that, I remembered how very much I love Greek, and recommitted to a practice of spending 15 minutes or more a day in the Greek New Testament. This has been rich and enjoyable for me. In the three schools where we teach, the faculty are small, so I am often asked to teach courses outside the narrow scope of preaching. Having a strong facility in Greek allows me to credibly offer myself as a New Testament instructor. In college, I had the bandwidth to learn two or even three languages at once (Latin, Greek, and Spanish); today I find I need to choose. I’m going with Greek since the payoff is clearer and the joy is more present.
7. Finally, my decision to end the quest to learn Malay is inextricably bound to this reality: The journey we’ve been on with Malaysia has not been an easy one. While its people are friendly and warm, its visa policies are less so, and our brief feelings of hope three months ago have been replaced (due to yet another policy change not in our favor) with the more familiar feelings of discouragement and uncertainty as to when or whether we will be granted a visa to stay longer than 90 days. We will try to return in early January, and we’re reasonably confident we’ll be granted another 90-day entry. But not certain. While we live in that limbo, we cannot get a bank account, lease an apartment, or, well, stay very long. All of this leaves me frustrated and weary, which no doubt adds to the loss of steam regarding language learning. So, it is with some regret and some relief that I am saying, “Selamat tinggal” (goodbye) to the Malay language. But when we leave again in a month, it will be with love and gratitude that I will say, “Jumpa lagi” (see you soon) to students, colleagues, and friends here.