Aaron M. Waldrip and Dr. Cynthia Hallen, Linguistics
Upon arriving in the city I couldn’t help but notice the barrenness of my surroundings. Sitting at approximately 12,500 feet above sea level, the city of El Alto in La Paz, Bolivia leaves a distinct impression upon your eyes, nose, and particularly your lungs. Your eyes see nothing but multifaceted shades of brown, your nose perceives smells that will never leave your memory, and your lungs scream so loudly for oxygen that you dare not walk too quickly, let alone run. However, a couple of draughts of mate de coca later, and your body seems to right itself.
I hopped in an incredibly inexpensive taxi and took the long winding road down to the city of La Paz, in pursuit of my two volunteer research subjects. In making casual conversation with one of the hotel’s shuttle drivers, I discovered that he had some friends who fit the profile of what I was looking for. Not two hours later, I was sitting in the lobby of the hotel, explaining the process of the project to my two eager volunteers. They were to be paid 100 Bolivianos (Bolivian currency) for their participation. For most people down there, that’s anywhere from 3-5 days’ pay, although it’s only about $13 US.
Soon after our initial planning session I created my makeshift recording studio in my hotel room. I had to use a converter for the outlet, which created some strange feedback on the recordings. I used an 8-track digital recorder to capture their voices. I think in the future I would simply pay the rental fees and do it in one of the “professional” recording studios down there, which I have learned are not too terribly expensive to rent out. Nevertheless, for a groundbreaking project like this, I was pleased with the results. Their voices are clear, and you can easily make out their articulations. And so, we began to delve into the beauty and the mystery of the Aymara people. The Aymara language stems from the Jaqi language family of South America. This family of languages predates the Incas, and therefore potentially holds vast amounts of clues into the prehistory of South America. However, while a fair amount of written information about Aymara exists, there is a significant void of audio recordings of the language. This being the case, anyone who wishes to perform research of any consequence regarding Aymara, or even become proficient in the language must travel to some region of South America where it is spoken. Therefore, this audio data will be of considerable worth to both those of the linguistics field, and any wishing to study the language without making an extensive journey to do so. I chose to perform recordings of native speakers from the La Paz region of Bolivia, as there still resides in Bolivia a vast population of native speakers of the language. Many of these people are also fluent in Spanish, thus making it easier to communicate with them.
For the project, I chose a young, educated man whose first language was Aymara. He is collegeeducated, and currently lives in the city of La Paz, although he was raised in a very remote region outside of the city. For his female counterpart, I chose an older woman, steeped in the oral histories of her people. She has learned Spanish over the course of the years, and now masters it. However, for the first few decades of her life, she communicated almost entirely in Aymara. Both proved to be valuable in their respective talents. The young man was an incredible help in the translation area, and the woman was able to recite oral histories from memory. Both were excited to have some (albeit limited) fame in the United States. All I could promise them, thanks to the anonymity clause they signed, is that if anyone ever visited the Harold B. Lee Library and checked out the “Audio Sampling of the Aymara Language” CD, their voices would be heard. They said that would be waliki, or good enough.
After many grueling hours of recording (quite a bigger chore than I had imagined), we arrived at the portion of the recordings that would be dedicated to oral histories. Due to some small lack of foresight, I only had enough space on the memory card to record two of them. In retrospect, I would have dedicated an entire CD just to their oral histories. They are absolutely fascinating. Some of them are like ancient Chinese proverbs told in story format, while others are like the fables that were read to me when I was a young child. Others still are highly reminiscent of proverbs. Were the funding available, I would return to Bolivia and spend several months down there with some faithful translator sidekick, gathering all the stories I could from the most remote villages, and every jilata (brother) and kullaka (sister) I could get my hands (or microphone) on. It would be an invaluable collection. It could even rival “Aesop’s Fables,” one of my personal favorites.
As for the final product of the recordings, I am quite pleased. It is a great start. Hopefully, some headstrong student will be just crazy enough to follow my lead and do a better job. Copies of the audio CD will be donated to the Harold B. Lee Library, Cynthia Hallen (my mentor and inspiration) for use in her Linguistics courses, and any other institutions or professors who express an interest. I will send out a letter to some of those who may be interested. So, perhaps if the jach’a mallku (great condor) inspires some willing soul to aspire to greater heights in the Aymara language, this humble project may serve as a small stepping stone. Mayürkamax!