Ča ćeš ga ku tijake?
De trej ånj am fost o mika fętica kåra n-av ânka bire štivut ni kuvintå. Bivęjt am la Grzele, ma-m saka zi âmnåt la nona lu Magåta. Nu šću se am štivut kuvintå hrvacki, ali kâsljanski, kând av ujcu Jivina dopeljęjt asa fråjarica akåsa. Ma, ku jå n-am putut kuvintå žejånski, kę-v fost din Zvoneće.
Fost-av tirera ši fina; užęjt-am din prokop dela Magåte kavtå se va veri ku kurijera ši kum va fi ânveštita. Avut-av ân modru mårle are ši fin modru kostim ku kvadri, fini zeleni oklji ši negri gusc per. Jako am fost råd ku jå, ke av fost vesela ši interesantna. Kând s-av meritåt ši rodit fečoriču, ânka am fost više vote kolę ši kavtåt kum âlj davę mânkå, kum âl ânveskavę, kum âl kladę durmi. Ši ašå, kând l-av o zi ânveskavęjt, jo am o ântrebat: "Teta Ešteja, ča ćeš ga ku tijake?"
De čå na ânka ši åstez domislim ši ârdem. E čå-s čåle pârve zile de kåre me jo domisles ke am pošnit kuvintå drugače nego pârla atunče.
Kum av ånji trekavęjt, ašå am tot više kuvintåt „drugače“ ku čelji če n-av fost din Žejân, ali a kuj n-av ši måja ši čåja fost Žejånci. Amę sora av trej ånj månjće nego jo; pošnit âmnå ân šula pak m-am ku jå tot ânvecåt: ši beri ši pisęj hrvacki. Kând am mes ân pârvile razred, jo-m ačå tot već bire štivut.
Ma žejånska limba av fost samo de ân Žejân. Ântre furešc am vâk kuvintåt "po njihovu" - ke jelj nu n-av ânceles pak n-av fost ši rušire. Kând am fost juvavå, ântre sire am potiho kuvintåt žejånski – ma ne na glas. Ma kând ku Žejanâcu kuvinci drugače, čå nu-j isto. Ma če se pote, majbire-j neka te åljc âncelegu, nego neka c-je rušire ši neka ti se ârdu. Čuda vote n-av ši bire verit, ke am putut ši čeva ziče če nu sakile kutęza âncelęže.
Nuškårlji furešc ši školujc omir av ânka kând pošnit verivuj ân Žejân ši anostra limba proučuj. Ši kum av jelj više verivujt ši pisęjt knjigele, ašå am noj tot mânje ši mânje kuvintåt žejånski. Ma kę? Kę ke nu Žejånci zåjno kând la se dica faku pošnes ku jelj kuvintå žejånski? Kę ke n-am jo zajdin kând mi s-av filju fakut pošnit ku je kuvintå žejånski? Čåja nu lje din Žejân, šå kum voj jo kuvintå limba kåra je nu âncelęže? E ši če-lj va žejånskile?! Akmo m-je ža!
Ke čåsto bogatstvo karo am jo ân sire, ši toc voj če štic žejånski, ča nu se pote plati ku nikakovi šoldi. Ča-j ân mire ši ku mire, ân voj ši ku voj. Ši kând sam maj ânsa ku sire, ši kând sam prin svit ku åljc omir, jå-j ånč. Ku mire ši ân mire! Ši nu voj vo då ćå de la sire. Neka-j anč ši neka-j ši la toc voj, ke jå-j nušte če n-åru toc omir. Jå-j nušte ku če na putem ponosi, ku kåra putem târpi ši rugå, plânže ši ârde na, psuji, kânta, škercęj... Ši de kåra putem ziče ke n-av anošći betâri lasåt, e jelj nu ra vrę neka se zatarę!
Ręc voj?
TranslationI was still a little three-year old girl who didn't know how to speak well yet. I lived at the Grzele's, and went over to stay with my grandma Magata every day. I'm not sure if I was able to speak standard Croatian, or the Kastavian dialect, when uncle Jivina brought his girlfriend home. I could not speak Žejanski to her – because she was from Zvoneće.
She was young and beautiful; I used to watch from Magata's house to see if she'd arrive on the bus and check how she'd be dressed. I remember that she had a big blue ring and pretty blue checkered jacket and skirt, pretty green eyes and thick black hair. I liked to be around her, because she was cheerful and interesting. When they got married and she gave birth to a little boy, I went over to her many times and watched how she fed him, dressed him, put him to sleep.
And so, one day, as she was dressing him, I asked her [in Croatian with Žejanski mixed in], „Auntie Ešteja, will you tie him ku tijake?“ [In Žejanski, ku tijake means „with the straps“]
Even today, we like to remember this and laugh about it. These were the first days I remembered as those when I started talking differently than until then.
As years went by, I spoke „differently“ more and more with those who were not from Žejân and those whose both parents weren't Žejaners. My sister is three years older than me; she started going to school and I learned everything from her: both to read and to write in Croatian. When I went into the first grade, I knew it all very well already.
But the Žejanski language was reserved for Žejân. In front of strangers, we always spoke „in their way“, because they could not understand us and we'd also be ashamed. When we went outside of Žejân, we'd speak Žejanski softly among us—not out loud. And when you speak „differently“ to a Žejaner, it's not the same thing any more. But what can you do! It's better that others understand you than to be ashamed and laughed at. Often, Žejanski came in handy to us, because we could say things to each other that no one else was allowed to understand!
Some foreign and educated people started coming to Žejân long time ago to study our language. And as they started coming more and more and writing books, we started speaking Žejanski less and less! But why? Why don't Žejaners, as soon as their children are born, speak to them in Žejanski? Why didn't I start speaking Žejanski to my son right away? His father is not from Žejân, so how could I speak to him in a language his father doesn't understand? And what could he do with Žejanski? Now, I'm sorry!
The truth is that this wealth that I hold in me, together with all of you who speak Žejanski, is priceless. It is in me and with me, in you and with you. And when I am very lonely, or when I'm around with other people, it is here. In me and with me. And I'll never let go of it! Let it be here and let it be with all of you, because this is something that not everybody has. It is something we can be proud of, something with can suffer and pray with, cry and laugh with, curse, sing, have a good time with... It is something left to us by our ancestors, and they would not like it to die out!
Would you?
