My son and
I are alone, waiting for church to commence.
The room starts filling. People
squeeze into every seat, yet our row remains empty. Five minutes pass, then
ten. I begin to feel
self-conscious. Still, no one sits next
to us.
Do we look
funny? Do we smell strange? No, we simply don't speak the same
language.
Memories of
my grandma with her thick Finnish accent cram into my mind. I wonder if she experienced the same emotions
trying to communicate as an immigrant to America that I feel transplanted in
Colombia. Something as simple as sitting
in church, a place where one should find comfort, can become an alienating
experience, locking one into silence.
Learning
another language has been a difficult and emotional task. A Scandinavian proverb says: “Eyes that do not cry, do not see.” Mine have become puddles with no vision.
Just this
week I have run into a fresh wrinkle in my language progress. Verbs. Words that
tell us what we are doing with objects. The computer shows me that I have one
green apple, but what am I going to do with that fruit? Do I want to have the apple? Buy the apple?
Eat the apple? Throw it at the screen?
From the pictures on Rosetta Stone, I can usually infer what action will
take place, but often enough I randomly choose what photo goes with the
corresponding sentence.
Knowing
what I am doing seems rather important, so I find myself in a state of crisis.
I stare at the monitor and cry, then think of how silly I am and force myself
to continue. Then I cry some more. I begin wondering how you say words such as
"failure" or "incompetent" in Spanish. I panic.
I have
tasted the bitterness of tears. As my
eyes clear, I contemplate what my ancestors encouraged me to see through this
experience. An immigrant thread weaves
through our societies. People move from
their countries for reasons such as war, education, health care, improved
economics, religious freedom, and to join family. Some even go for adventure.
Seeing my
grandparents build a loving relationship while communicating in each of their
second languages inspires me. As
humans, we want to cling to the familiar.
When all has been left behind, any tangible remembrance of one's past is
comforting. My grandparents settled in a
neighborhood with several Scandinavian families. They attended a church, which held services
in Swedish. My grandma subscribed to a
newspaper written in Finnish from Michigan's upper peninsula. As often as possible, they would travel over
an hour to attend a Finnish church service.
Karina Rodriguez, a Spanish teacher
for the American Embassy in Bogota, says, “The success of learning a language
is what motivates you to do it.”
My mother,
Ethel Steffey, recalls a story about her sister that caused my grandparents to
speak only English in the home. “They
knew Ruth would be starting school and needed to speak English.” One day when she was talking, some ladies
heard her and thought the mix of languages was really cute. “They laughed at her – not to make fun of
her, though. Ruth realized they were
laughing at her and she stopped talking.
The story is that when she started talking again, she spoke only
English.”
I found
that learning a foreign language is a very emotional thing. Karina tells me: “We have to be prepared for
all the emotional challenge that it will bring, which is not necessarily a bad
thing or a sign that we are weak or less professional, or not very intelligent,
it is just a sign that we are human, so we should always express how we are
feeling, get frustrated, cry and then get over it and keep trying!”
Continual
effort does not come quickly or easily.
Ivan Franson, my uncle, comments: “I believe both grandma and grandpa
learned what English they knew and expressed by long interaction with
English-speaking people. It was a
lifetime experience for them.”
Resident,
Berthica Cardenas, is also finding that learning English does not happen
overnight. Having escaped oppression in
Cuba she joined family in America. Upon
meeting her I thought she was quiet.
After years of hanging out, I found she was spunky, and that only a
language barrier was silencing her.
Because she had no background in English, moved at a later point in life
and lost her professional objectives, her language learning proceeded
slowly. Although Spanish is often spoken
among family and friends, she doesn't stay away from English. “We don't avoid opening up our social environment. We love to meet American families and
exchange with them.” Says this Cuban émigré.
Some things
change throughout history. Television, internet,
finding information and entertainment in our native tongue is easier than ever. Modern communication allows us to stay in
touch with those back home. Feelings of
isolation diminish. The immediacy of technology
lessens the need to learn the language and immerse in local culture.
Taking a close look at where I came from and
my experience trying to live with a foreign language, I realize the truth of
what Mark Twain wrote in his Innocents Abroad:
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many
of our people need it sorely on these accounts.
Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired
by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”
12/12
