In my invincible twenties, I wanted to speak seven languages fluently before my end of days. In the optimism of my late thirties, I said, Yes, I still have time for five languages. Now in my realistic fifties, it's time for another revision: I will speak three languages fluently in this life.
Me good wid Engish. J'apprends francais. I need to beef up my Chinese - Cantonese, Mandarin, and Toisanese. I gotta work with what I have first.
But if I were to add more languages, what would they be? In my twenties, I thought Russian, Japanese, Italian, and German. They were the languages of the literature I was reading in translation at the time.
In my forties, I thought perfect business Chinese, Japanese, and Korean. They were the commercial languages of emerging markets.
Now I'm thinking maybe Hindi, Arabic, and Spanish. I'd like to be conversant wherever I go.
It's not just the language. It's the culture one also learns with the language, and the way people think and the values they hold. And that's before you account for differences of the individual. I want to know how other people live, how they make sense of their time on earth. How people live fascinates me.
On the one hand, I think people all over live out variations of the same theme: survival. It's like watching the BBC series Planet Earth. Animals are always looking for food so they can breed. That's how they survive. I am mesmerized by how animals hunt and breed, what they do to survive.
Although, when I stop to think about it, The Boy and I actually speak different languages and inhabit different cultures. We want nothing to do with each other's language and culture. That's how we ensure our own survival. No, no, I better not go there.
I'll just do my French homework.
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4 comments:
I agree. You do learn quite a bit about people when you learn a new language. I've spent 2 years in Portuguese classes at Berlitz and continue to have occasional on-going lessons with family. I'd love to learn other languages as well.
But the first thing I learned is that every culture always degrades to the lowest common form of filth. Profanities are the first lesson of language. Thanks to my in-laws, I can cuss and curse in Portuguese as well as I can in English or Cantonese.
I've also learned that North Americans have little understand and are sometimes ignorant of foreign ways. Example: you might hear a foreigner say, "look at that car red" and think less of them. However, in their mother tongue, that might be the proper way to express that phrase. The adjective comes before the noun.
Nos somos fodidos!
In France, The Exchange's father told an off-colour joke in English. It was amusing. But I said, "Where do you know these words from?" The Boy piped up and said, "Mom, everyone knows that when you learn a foreign language, you learn the swear words first."
I wondered about that. I don't know how to swear in French, nor that well in Chinese. But it English...I've been called a truck driver.
Remember that you and The Boy learned ASL so you could talk in front of the The Man's back without him understanding. That makes 4 languages.
Imagine, not near dead yet and you're well on your way to your goal.
The way you describe a fascination in exploring people's individual and world views, you really should have been a psychiatrist.
How about learning Frisian, that's what we speak at home , in the village and province.But we are not like your Quebec.
Then Dutch naturally.
English speaking is for me no problem, but writing is difficult, I can not express myself in writing.
Then we have French , my wife she can speak and write it, although, what she learned at school, for me only French kissing.
So Sylph try some Frisian.
oant sjen , Fryslân.
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