Say ‘Esperanto’ and You’re Talking Their Language

His travel itinerary listed his destination as Valencia, Spain, but Myron Bondelid, a retired mathematics professor from Cal Lutheran University in Thousand Oaks, knew where he was really heading: “Esperantujo,” he said, giving the jo a Spanish-sounding yo inflection. “Esperanto-land.”

Bondelid was one of hundreds of Esperantists who arrived in Valencia last week for the opening of the Universala Kongreso de Esperanto, which means--well, it’s fairly obvious what it means.

After all, Esperanto was designed to be a quick study.

Ventura County was well-represented at this year’s convention, which celebrated the 108th anniversary of Esperanto’s creation.

Joining Bondelid are Esperanto teacher Elwin Reed and his cousin, Oliver Brace, both of Camarillo, and James Fonseca of Thousand Oaks, a Spanish professor at Cal Lutheran.

“We form a hotbed of Esperantists here in Ventura County,” Bondelid noted wryly.

True, more county residents speak Mon-Khmer than Esperanto.

But many Esperantists believe their language can have useful international applications, although it has fallen short of its creator’s dream of a universal second language that could bring peace and understanding to the world’s squabbling neighbors.

Far short, in the view of some non-Esperantists.

The subject of Esperanto still draws titters from some skeptics.

When he mentions his interest in Esperanto, Bondelid said, people often respond, “Oh, you mean that language that they wanted to make universal?”

But Bondelid believes computers may give Esperanto its best chance for widespread use.

He has spent a decade writing a computer program that uses Esperanto to translate from one language to another.

To go from Norwegian to German, for example, Bondelid’s program would make a translation first into Esperanto and then into German.

“It will serve its original function if people such as myself are able to produce these computer programs that utilize Esperanto as an intermediate language,” Bondelid said. “As a result, it may have massive worldwide publicity.”

Reed, who has led a Ventura County study group for the past 10 years, said he doesn’t care what “outside people” think of Esperanto.

“We use it and have a great time and have a lot of friends and go on enjoying life,” Reed said.

And if it never succeeds as a truly international language?

“Well, we don’t worry,” Reed said.

As they wait for wider acceptance, Esperantists--who number an estimated 2 million worldwide--can avail themselves of a dizzying range of Esperanto-language books and magazines.

“Esperanto is quite a flourishing subculture,” said Esperantist Scott Smith of Thousand Oaks, who has belonged to Esperanto Mormon and vegetarian organizations but is no longer active in the Ventura County group.

“It is unbelievably vibrant,” Smith said. “There are at least 100 magazines and hundreds of special interest publications, covering everything from beekeepers to Buddhists to Boy Scouts.”

When Chinese protesters were making their stand at Tian An Men Square, Smith faxed and mailed information, in Esperanto, to contacts throughout China to keep them abreast of uncensored news.

Several countries broadcast in Esperanto on shortwave radio stations, which can be heard around the world.

The Pope recently allowed the use of Esperanto Masses and gives greetings in Esperanto.

The Thousand Oaks Public Library recently hosted a display of Esperanto literature, featuring Esperanto translations of such classics as “Winnie the Pooh” and “Pinocchio.”

The library even keeps Esperanto books on its shelves, Smith said.

Bondelid and Reed subscribe to El Popola Cinio, (From the Chinese People--the C is pronounced “ch.”), a beautifully produced magazine published by the Chinese government.

And Reed prefers the Esperanto-language newsmagazine Monato, or Monthly, to its American rivals Time and Newsweek.

“It’s really worldwide news, without being slanted to the United States,” he said.

For both men, Esperanto has been a longtime avocation.

Bondelid Esperantigis , or became an Esperantist, as a frustrated Latin student in high school.

“I complained about the disorderliness of Latin and language in general to my Latin teacher.

She understood and mentioned Esperanto to me,” he said. “I learned it in six weeks.”

The knowledge came in handy in, of all places, post-World War II Japan. Bondelid, a paratrooper, was stationed in Sapporo in 1946.

He quickly linked up with a Japanese Esperantist family there.

“I didn’t speak Japanese and they didn’t speak English, so we communicated through Esperanto,” Bondelid said. “Here’s a soldier in 1946, on occupation duty, going to the home of a Japanese and introducing himself as an Esperantist. It must have been quite a strange encounter.”

Forty years later, at an international convention in Beijing, Bondelid held a reunion with some of the members and friends of that Japanese family.

That kind of international friendship was one of the goals of Esperanto’s creator, L. Zamenhof.

Zamenhof was a Polish citizen whose town was home to Poles, Russians and Germans, each of whom spoke a different language and was hostile to the others.

His first name reflected the region’s linguistic confusion--he was known variously as Lazar, Ludovic and Ludwig.

Zamenhof believed a second, universal language could reduce tensions by making it easier for different people to more easily understand one another.

In 1887, Zamenhof unveiled Esperanto as a language that would be streamlined and easy to learn, with none of the irritating exceptions that drive foreign students of English crazy.

The verb to be, for example, changes with almost every person--I am, you are, he is, I was, you were, they were--while Esperanto covers all the bases with the word estas.

Esperanto has 16 grammatical rules, which are never broken. Spelling is simplified--each letter has one sound, and different letters have different sounds.

Nouns always end with “o,” adjectives with “a” and plurals with “j.”

From a base vocabulary of about 2,000 words, taken from a mixture of other languages, most of them Romance languages, Esperanto builds on with an assortment of suffixes and prefixes.

Sano, for instance, means “health,” sana is “healthy” and sane means healthily.

Adding the prefix mal to any noun makes it the opposite, so malsano is “illness” and malsane is “unhealthy.”

Esperantists like to say the spoken language sounds closest to Italian, although it can throw non-speakers for a loop.

Reed said he and a fellow Esperantist were shopping at Bullock’s in Thousand Oaks, chattering away in Esperanto, when a man came up and wanted to know what they were speaking.

He was a university language professor.

Ventura County residents who want to learn Esperanto will have to go all the way to Mil Kverkoj for lessons.

Not to worry; it’s closer than it seems. Mil Kverkoj means “Thousand Oaks.”

Monthly meetings of Reed’s group will begin again in September.

FYI

For more information on Esperanto and local clubs, call the Esperanto League for North America, (800) 828-5944.