彭蒙惠英语：Spreading the World… Silbo Style（在线收听）

Spreading the World… Silbo Style

3

A simple language legacy

After wishing Mendoza farewell I head for the tourism office to pick up a few maps. My stop not only yields directions, but more insight into Silbo’s culture and legacy from the tourism office director.

“People used the whistle in reference to the local life, the traditions or the customs,” explains Idilio Crujillo. “I don’t think anybody can whistle a long conversation about medicine. They don’t know this vocabulary because it is scientific and difficult. They whistle simple things.” Though Silbo is no longer the lifeline it once was, it continues to touch the lives of the island’s 19,000 residents. “Here all people whistle, more or less, not like a professional, but they can recognize names and some words or a message.”

Messages across the mountains

As I drive the long and tortuously winding roads past the island’s distinctive steep-walled gorges, peering down on villages nestled thousands of feet below, I’m immediately convinced why Silbo is an essential means of communication. My chance to try my hand at Silbo comes at a mountain viewpoint stop. To my surprise I eke out a small sound. On this island of whistlers it’s definitely a step in the right direction.

This afternoon I’m heading off the beaten path to the mountain village of El Cercado, home of La Gomera’s ancient pottery-making tradition. Entering one of the rural ceramic shops I watch artisan Maria Del Mar pound and shape her clay, and meet her 9-year-old son Aday, who is learning Silbo.

“The teacher just tells us how it is done and then we copy what he is whistling,” says Aday, explaining that there is no written material. “Sometimes I call my cousin who lives just beside the mountain to ask him to play with me, but if he’s in the house it won’t work,” he says. Being out of range is an age-old problem that affects the best communication networks, even high-tech gadgets like the mobile phone, Silbo’s nemesis.

It’s late evening when I return to my hotel in San Sebastian. When the hotel receptionist hands me my room key, on a whim I ask if she knows Silbo. She answers by putting two fingers in her mouth and sending out a sharp whistle loud enough to wake the guests. “If you really want to hear a whistle, ask my colleague Cornelio in the morning,” she says.

I think I’ll wait till afternoon before asking for another demonstration.

Vocabulary Focus

lifeline (n) [5laif7lain] something on which one depends to survive or to continue doing something, often providing a necessary connection or way of getting help

try one’s hand at (idiom) to try doing something for the first time

off the beaten path (idiom) in a place where few people go, far from any main roads and towns (also “off the beaten track”)

nemesis (n) [ni5misis] a person or thing that is very difficult for one to defeat

whim (n) [(h)wim] a sudden desire or idea, especially one that cannot be reasonably explained

Specialized Terms

artisan (n) 工匠 a person who does skilled work with his or her hands

席尔波式的口哨传意

3

一项简明的语言遗产

与曼铎沙道别之后，我动身前往游客中心去拿一些地图。在旅游中心短暂的停留，不但问到了方向，更从游客中心的主任那儿得到有关席尔波语文化及遗产的更深刻的了解。

“人们用哨音传递有关当地生活、传统，和风俗的讯息。”艾迪里欧库奇罗这么解释，“我认为没有人有办法用口哨在医学方面做长篇大论的交谈，他们不懂这方面的字汇，因为那是属于科学的，而且是很困难的知识。他们只用吹口哨交谈简单的事情。”虽然席尔波语不再像以前一样是岛民的生命线，但它仍持续影响着岛上19000名居民的生活。“虽不是很专业，在这里所有的人多多少少都会用口哨交谈，他们能够辨识名字、一些单词，或一则讯息。”

穿山越岭的信息

我沿着长且迂回曲折的道路行驶。在经过岛上特殊的峭壁峡谷，凝视安卧在脚下几千英尺远的村庄时，我马上就因眼前所见而了解席尔波语何以成为他们沟通时不可或缺的工具。在山上的一个观景点，我首次尝试使用席尔波语。出乎我意料之外的是，我只能勉强吹出细小的声音。不过在这座满是吹口哨者的岛屿上，这绝对是正确的一步。

当天下午，经过了一段僻静山路，我出发前往山上的一个村落——艾尔柯萨度，哥梅拉古老陶艺制作传统的所在地。我走进其中一间乡村的陶艺店，观看工匠马利亚戴尔玛用力敲击和塑造她手中的陶土，也认识了她9岁大，正在学习席尔波语的儿子艾德。

“老师只是告诉我们该怎么做，然后我们就模仿他怎么吹，”艾德说，解释席尔波语的传授并没有任何书面的资料。他又说：“有时候我会用口哨叫住在山边的表哥跟我玩，可是如果他待在房子里的话，就听不到了。”“超出信号范围”是个就连最佳的通讯网络也会受其影响的古老问题，甚至连高科技的玩意儿，席尔波语的竞争对手——移动电话，也有相同的限制。

等我回到圣赛巴斯提安旅馆的时候，已经很晚了。柜台接待员把房门钥匙递给我，我一时兴起，问她是否知道席尔波语。她把两只手指放进嘴里，发出响亮到足以吵醒其他旅客的音量回答了我的问题。“如果你真想听到哨音，明早来找我的同事柯尼里欧。”她这么说。

我想我会等到明天下午，再去要求另一个响亮的示范。