I became bilingual at the age of fourteen, when I learned to speak English. At this time I also moved to the US where I was forced to use my English (still broken at the time) to adjust to a new culture. I remember entering Freshman year six months late and spending the rest of the school year completely silent. Many kids tried to talk to me, but I couldn't raise my voice to the level of normalcy and lost many potential friends to this silent struggle. I was astonished at how unbearably loud Americans are and fully noticed this in my Freshman English class, when we played "Popcorn". Every person would read just fine and when my name was called, I would make such an effort to read loudly, only to have the teacher interrupt and tell me to speak up. This did not only happen during class, but going to dinner with my family, speaking on the phone with an American, or ordering food through the drive through all ended with the same response...speak up! I am reminded of this frustrating time as I read the essay "The Language of Silence", by Maxine Hong Kingston. I can completely relate to her struggle as fear would sweep away her voice completely. I spent my days in silence as well, until I became more accustomed to the culture. I found my voice during my second year in the US but it came only after the damage had been done. Till this day I am uncomfortable speaking out or being listened to by many people. The discomfort that came with having to speak English during that first year will probably be with me forever.
Being bilingual has also caused me many frustrating moments. Over the years I have noticed how this has affected my speech and communication with people who speak only one language. My dad always says "in the US we are stupid, while in South Africa we are smart." Let me explain. Once I finally found my voice, I noticed that, when trying to develop a conversation, I found myself often searching for the right word to express myself. This would usually result in a word that does not quite make sense, followed by frustration boiling inside of me. I realized that, to Americans (or anyone who does not understand what it is like to have two languages mixed up in your head), I look pretty stupid when I search for the 'right' word or say something that made sense to me but not to them. The looks and gestures have become normal to me and the frustration only a mere sting in my heart. These experiences have made me wish sometimes that I spoke only English and could master it as I have my first language. Language is so vital in life and this has caused me to resent my roots at times. It has also made me aware of the importance of communication and how truly different each person and culture expresses themselves. Out of my journey with this has come a greater appreciation for those who struggle with language and communication, no matter the form it comes in.
I can remember being on my first overseas trip and not understanding anything. All of the signs were printed in Russian and I knew I wasn’t in California anymore. I had just arrived in Krasnoyarsk and I couldn’t understand a thing. I had studied my Russian-English Oxford Dictionary and it didn’t take long to discover that having it didn’t magically improve my ability to fit in.
ReplyDeleteIt was frustrating just in my two and half weeks, not being able to understand those around me. My most accomplished moment took place in a bookstore. I had managed to find a book about sandwiches, that despite the language barrier, I could understand because each page was accompanied by a series of photographs outlining the instructions. I purchased the book without help and that was when I felt like I fit into their culture.
I wish I could speak another language fluently. Being able to understand two cultures in the way you can, would be to me worth the frustration. You are able to look at the world in new ways that those of us with only one language cannot. I admire your ability to make it through your struggles and have gained a new appreciation for second-language learners.
Wow I really enjoyed your story. I could only image how hard it would be to be forced into a different culture and to learn their language, especially at the age you were. You are a very strong and smart lady. I also agree and I wish I only knew one language at times.
ReplyDeleteI can relate in a similar way. My first language was Spanish, and I learned English growing up in school. I am sure you understand when I say that, reading a different language can be tough. I sometimes want to pronounce English words in Spanish and Spanish words in English. It has been a lifelong battle between these two languages. I also did not like to be called on in class when the teacher had us read out loud.
Every day I am learning more new words and how to use them to express myself and also to speak up. I feel like I am yelling at a friend when I am trying to have a conversation. Sometimes after a dinner party my throat hurts because though out the night I am talking over people and the room gets louder and loader. Most of times I like listen to stories, rather to tell them.
English is an important language in the US, but the country is full of many different cultures and languages. So it is nice that we both can speak more than one language. We are able to help the people that struggle with English and translate for them.