Comma much?

Kiss me, I’m—once again—a working woman. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been behind a desk for hours every day, and I’m afraid I’m out of practice. Part of my problem is that I’m still hanging on to the 8-5 mentality. In all jobs I’ve had previously, one works for a pre-determined number of hours, in approved apparel, taking the breaks as described in the manual, interview, or training period, etc. You arrive “on time”, work as long as you’re told, and any deviation from what you’re “supposed” to be doing is highly discouraged, if not prohibited. 

That sounds like most jobs I know of, anyway. So you can imagine how difficult I’m finding it to adapt to an environment that doesn’t work that way. Todd and I have joined the communications department with OM Africa, which makes us part of the creative team. He will eventually be the webmaster, but I have already become a writer and editor. I can hardly believe it...this is the kind of job I would have dreamed of! But in addition to doing the kind of work I think I can do well, I’m also given a lot of freedom to do it as I like. That is, I can wear jeans and t-shirts everyday, if I want. I can get to work when I want, or work from home, or on the roof of our office building! (That’s probably my favorite thing about the office, the incredible roof!) There really isn’t an hourly expectation in my group as my boss says: “we’re more project based than time based.” That is music to my ears. For the first time since I started working at 16, I’m not responsible for answering a phone, or assisting people who walk through the door, or finding things to do to keep myself busy. 

Did you realize there were jobs like this? Honestly, I think most people could do what they liked if they were willing to do it for free. Ok, so that’s a big sacrifice, but I don’t technically do it “for free”...we have a whole team of very generous people supporting us in our work. If you’re reading this, thank you for your kindness to Todd and me (yes, that’s “me”, not “I” in this instance)! We are so thankful that God called you to send us to Africa. 

So, I spend part of my days editing articles about the missionaries and ministries all over the Africa Area (the countries my office oversees), working on a writing project that I hope to share with you later, and taking some time to brush up on my grammar. My company e-mail signature says “Writer/Editor”; my e-mails only have to be completely perfect now, no pressure. It might not have been a mandatory to proofread them before, but by signing “Editor” to my name I’m kind of obligated. I enjoy grammar, though, and look forward to my little “continuing education” lessons each day. I’ve actually been listening to Grammar Girl, and really enjoying it. If English is your thing, check her out here. 

The time I spend thinking about grammatical correctness is beneficial for my editorial career, naturally. But the other day I caught myself noticing that my face wash needed to fix its claim of “smooth soft clear skin.”  Once you get in the zone it’s hard to turn your brain off. There’s also a popular South African phrase that started to really grate on my linguistic nerve. It’s common for people to respond to you with “is it?” regardless of what you’ve just said. There are times, of course, when it’s completely appropriate. “The car is out of petrol (gas).” “Is it?” Perfect. No problem, carry on. It’s when you say something like, “I need to stop at the store” and the other person says, “is it?” “Tomorrow I leave for vacation.” “Is it?” I couldn’t make sense of it, or think of an American equivalent. 

Then it struck me that the phrase could be a shortened version of something else. What if the phrase was really “is it true?” That would make grammatical sense. “The dog ate all of our cookies.” “Is it true?” “I’m ready to leave.” “Is it true?” See? It works. 

On the topic of language, let me just tell you how impressed I am with the Afrikaans people. They are brilliant. I’ve never heard of a culture who is almost universally bilingual. Really, almost all of the white people in Pretoria are Afrikaans (as opposed to English), and nearly all the ones I’ve met can switch back and forth between languages seamlessly. I’ve never seen anything like it. I feel like I should put forth a big effort to learn their language too, since they’ve so obviously done their share of the work learning mine. While I’ve heard that it’s harder for some, I can’t help but feel that the overwhelming majority are first-rate English speakers. Well done, you guys!