Foreign Language

November 18, 2019

Greetings from the monolinguist,

A few months ago, I met a couple who had a toddler-aged boy.  One of the cute things they wanted me to know was that he called all food ‘macaroni’ which was pronounced ‘ma-kroni’.  So, when he was hungry, even if he wanted salmon filet or asparagus or grilled cheese sandwich, quartered, with the crust cut off, he said ‘macaroni’.

Shortly after that I wrote down this imaginary conversation:
Me: Look, uh, you can’t just call everything macaroni.

Him: Why not?

Me: Well, we all agreed, a long time ago, that macaroni means one thing, and it doesn’t mean ‘hamburger’ or anything else.

Him: Well I didn’t agree.  I say it means what I want it to mean.

Me: That’s just going to cause confusion, see, because we won’t know what you are talking about.  That’s kind of the point of us making this language, so we understand each other. 

Him: Hm, right. Maybe you all should learn my language.

If you are a parent, or if you are a normal person, you will automatically feel the appropriate self-righteousness.  We are right, and he needs to be fixed.  Hold that thought.

The people in Georgia call soft drinks ‘Cokes’, and in other places ‘sodas’ and others the hard-to-pronounce ‘cold drinks’.  Where I live the generic for soft drinks is ‘pop’, which is the correct term. Even though all of those other people are saying it wrong, I have learned to forgive them in the interest of peace; I have taken the high road. In fact, when I am in Georgia, I just order bourbon instead of Vernors, since they are about the same color.  It’s my way of being generous.

I travel across the U.S. regularly, (it’s the big rectangular place right below Canada) and the most common language here is English.  In the north they speak it with a Canadian accent, but still largely English.  Occasionally, I have been in situations where there is a certain expectation that the people around me will speak my native language, but they do not.  It is a little jarring at first, keep in mind the context, and my reaction is the appropriate self-righteousness. 

Like when I was taking a flight to Nashville and the couple in front of me in security were from Japan.  They knew enough English to get to this point, but I could see that at every interaction it was a challenge for them.  So, I naturally saw this as an inconvenience to me.  Sheesh.  Here I was trying to get through the TSA line in record time and now I have to put up with this?  Hold that thought.

Mrs. Calvo taught us French in high school and as I recall there was a ‘foreign language’ requirement.  I resented the requirement, and my grades reflected it.  My limited imagination could not fathom enough reasons to learn a language that no one in the world spoke except some people who talked funny.  Side note: I didn’t know it at the time, but Mrs. Calvo spoke French with a Spanish accent.  If I had actually learned the language it would have been a Franco American disaster.  (Not referring here to Spaghetti-O’s.)  Lucky for all of us I didn’t learn anything.  How often I’ve said those words.

Robert Louis Stevenson said: “There are no foreign lands.  It is only the traveler only who is foreign.”

The word ‘foreign’, for some people, has taken on a negative connotation.  Like an invader, or some object in your eye, or a growth where you would not want a growth.  And so ‘foreign language’ gets this too.  We speak English here; if you can’t take the time to learn the language don’t expect us to put up signs at Home Depot explaining how to use the self-checkout lane.

Ach.

I have stumbled through several countries where English was not the first language, and been saved by the kindness of the Italians and French and Portuguese and Argentinians, come to think of it, Canadians.  But it wasn’t until I travelled through Colombia that I realized the sense of entitlement I carried around with me almost all my life, where I thought the rest of the world should understand that I mean ‘hamburger’ when I say ‘macaraoni’

When you are unable to express yourself because no one around you speaks your language, it brings a feeling of helplessness, a certain amount of fear.  I felt stupid, and that’s probably how I was seen.  I felt foolish for assuming that I would just get by with the language I was born with. 

I wrote that paragraph because that is how I learned empathy for the couple from Japan.  It takes courage to venture into the world armed only with a language no one speaks.  And it takes a belief in humanity. 

The truth is, I am the toddler in the conversation.  I didn’t know it when I wrote it, but the message showed up after all these weeks.  The lesson for me in this is first one of compassion.  Be kind to the traveler, even if he is from Samaria. 

The other lesson is to see that it is far wiser to seek a future where we understand each other, respect each other, than whatever might take the place of that connection.  It requires patience and humility and a willingness to learn.  Even as I write this I see these are not my own strengths, but in knowing that, it is the beginning of growth.  Wish me luck.

Hope this finds you understanding,

David

Copyright © 2019 David Smith