"A YAH MI KHUM FRAM!"

Choice of language does seem to change depending on our mood or state. It also is proven that language is an most effective tool to influence people and your environment.
A few years back, we took the family back to Jamaica for a visit and to get out youngest (who was a few months old) her Jamaican citizenship.

During the trip, we decided to visit Bob Marley museum on Hope Road (in St. Andrew)


Now, I tend to "chat di Patwah nuff". I  tend to make a real effort to speak otherwise.
My wife on the other-hand, she speaks with the Canadian accent easily. (This despite being born, grown, Kingstonian, She was born in the heart of central Kingston.. the historically notorious Gold Street)
For a long time, I rarely heard her spoke (raw) Patwah. Instead, she generally speaks “proper” English, especially if we are speaking over the phone while she’s at work or when speaking to our daughters.  Whenever I speak Patwah to them, I could expect a sharp reprimand.

We would get into committed discussions about the languages and what is best to practice speaking.  During the debates she does make good arguments. One of the more common is that as a Financial Advisor in Burlington, Ontario, she has to practice speaking in a manner her clients will easily understand, and one that will not distract. This includes putting on the Canadian accent, and practice does make perfect.
While I understood and agreed with her position, my troublesome response would be to jive her for being "the Twang lady " or “Ms Speaky-Spokey”

So a few years ago, we are in Jamaica, and decides to do the ‘touristy” stuff we tend not to have done while we lived there. This included touring the Bob Marley museum on Hope Road. I drive up to the security gate at the museum entrance. The admission sign reads prices similar to:

Visitors:

Adults - U$25

Children - U$12.50

Locals:

Adults - JMD$500.00 (which was approx U$6)

Children - JMD$250 (which was approx U$3)

My wife starts to leaf thru the Jamaican dollars, putting together JMD$1500.00 (approx U$18.00 )

The security, a burly woman in tight khaki shirt and shorts, hangs out the security booth window, peers into the car, scanning myself, wife and daughters, and says "DATS US SEVENTY-FIVE DOLLERS SIR".
Surprised, I turn to the security and stated that we are Jamaicans and will be paying the local rate.

The security became adamant. She looked intently and insisted “YOU a FARINA! YUH NUH LIVE A JAMAICA!”

Just I’m about to inquire from the security how she come by that conclusion, I hear the deepest, rawest, roughest Patwah coming from my wife beside me.
She goes “EDIAT OOMAN! A WHO YUH  A CALL FARINA??! A YAH MI KHUM FRAM! YUH THINK YUH A MISS CLEO?  (**kissteeth**)
Then she looks to a shocked me and goes “JUNIOR! DRAP IE MONEY INNA HAR JRY HAN DEM OR MECK WI SPLURT.”

I peeled out the $1500 into the hands of the shocked and retreating security woman and passed the receipts to my 14 year old daughter sitting in the back with a puzzled look on her face.

As she put the receipts in her little bag, my wife turns around and instructs her in clear Canadian English… accent and all… "...and baby girl, please remember to ensure that you keep these with the others... eh!”



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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamaican_Patois
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