It's been a year and a half now since I last wrote about
learning a foreign language. A lot has
changed since then. I'm starting to get
the hang of this German business now, and for the most part I get by. I'm certainly nowhere close to being fluent,
but somehow I am managing to function every day auf Deutsch.
Of course, it does help that I finally sucked it up and hit
the books. Last spring I signed up for
an intensive B1 course at the Volkshochschule in Cologne. (For those of you not in the know, the
Volkshochschule is a German institute for adult education: a much more affordable route for learning German than Berlitz or the Goethe Institute, although you won't get any official accreditation). The course gave my German skills a major boost. The biggest difference I noticed was my
grammar. Before taking the course I
would often just throw random words together into a sentence, and pray it made
some kind of sense. Now I'm much more
conscious of things like cases and word order.
The rules haven't yet become automatic, but at least now I think about
them and try to correct myself.
I have progressed.
Really, I have. And people are
noticing. But no matter how good my
German gets, it never feels real. The
truth is, most days I feel like a big fat fraud. It's like I'm putting on an act for
everyone. I don't really speak German –
I'm just playing the role of someone who does.
I'm constantly acting, pretending, struggling to "pass" – and hoping
that people won't see right through me.
There are days I'm so sure that someone will turn around and
call my bluff. "YOU don’t belong here!" they'll say. "You don't REALLY speak
German!"
"RAUS, du Lügner!!!" |
I always knew learning a new language would be an
intellectual challenge. What I wasn't
prepared for was the emotional challenge. The feeling that you never really fit in, and
you never really know what's going on.
The frustration that comes with being unable to express yourself fully
or accurately. The intense homesickness
of missing your native language. The
loneliness and isolation that comes with realising you're the only person in the room who speaks it.
All of the feels. |
When I first moved to Germany, I used to play it safe. Surround myself with
English speakers, and only speak German when it was absolutely necessary. It was like I had this safe little English
bubble to float around in.
Lalalala.... bubbling around... |
But I couldn't stay in this bubble forever. After all, I wouldn't always have
English-speaking colleagues around. More
and more, I began to find myself in situations where nobody else spoke
English. It was overwhelming, and it
scared me half to death. But it left me
with no choice. I had to sink or
swim. If I wanted to survive, I would
have to do it auf Deutsch.
How can I explain the discomfort of constantly
speaking a language which isn't your own?
It's like an extra layer of challenge has been added to every single
part of your day. Imagine if you could
never see things clearly, but instead had to peer through a screen all the
time. You never get a full picture of
reality. You're always squinting and
craning your neck, trying to piece together what on earth is going on from what
you can – just barely – see. That's what
it feels like speaking German every day.
Some days the screen obscures a lot, and sometimes it's more
transparent. But make no mistake, the
screen is always there.
"It looks like... they're saying something.. about..... a bicycle?" |
Perhaps the most difficult thing is that, in German, I can't
really be myself. I'm far too self-conscious
and slow on the uptake. I must seem like
the most boring person in the world in German. I hardly say a word aside from "ja" or "stimmt". Usually by the time I've
understood someone and formulated a response, they've moved on to another
subject entirely.
One-on-one conversations are fine, because my conversation
partner can always slow to my pace. But group
situations are the absolute worst. As
the talk gets lively, everyone starts talking a mile a minute and interrupting
each other. Meanwhile I'm sitting in
silence, looking for all the world like a dull and humourless idiot. It probably seems like I have no thoughts or
ideas in my head at all. The truth is
that my head couldn't be busier! While
everyone else is nattering on, I'm making a bunch of complicated linguistic
calculations and mental back-flips just to get a basic grasp of what they're talking
about.
So much.... translating.... |
Any friend of mine can attest to the instant transformation I
undergo when I switch from German to English.
As I move to my native tongue, all hesitations fall away, and my true
self emerges. One minute I'm dull as
dishwater, and the next minute I'm the life of the party. Hey, who knew it? Turns out this girl actually has a
personality!
For this reason, I still socialise a lot in English. Most of my friends are other native English
speakers, or Germans with very good English (there's a lot of those). I may be able to make small talk and friendly
chat in German, but this always comes with a certain level of awkwardness, and
a lingering feeling that I'm doing my math homework. It's one thing to go through this effort when I'm on the
clock, but why would I want it in my down-time? Only in English can I truly relax. Only in English can I feel natural, and be
myself without worrying about whether I just used the right pronoun.
"Ahhhh.... this is the life." |
And so a real dichotomy has developed. German is my work language, and English is my
leisure language. It's like I put on a
German hat to go to work, and take it off as soon as I get home.
I often wonder when this language will become second
nature. When will I be truly
fluent? When will I speak German with
bravado and ease? When will I form a
sentence without thinking, is it der, die, or das?
Years later, Joe still wonders if it was "die Birne" after all |
One sure sign will be the day I have a real German friend. I'm not talking about a German friend who
speaks English with me. I'm not talking
about a friend-ly German, who speaks simple German with me so we can make superficial
chitchat. I'm talking about a German who
speaks to me in German consistently, using sophisticated language, and
discusses deep and important issues. I'm
talking about someone who can be real with me in their language, and not have
to constantly worry about dumbing things down.
If I can reach that level of understanding with a native German speaker,
I'll know I've really made it.
But I have to be patient.
Learning another language is a slow process, and nobody becomes fluent
overnight. It takes years of repetition,
immersion, and trial and error.
Sometimes your progress can be so slow it's imperceptible – and other
times you'll make a huge leap and completely surprise yourself. It will be years before I can feel completely
comfortable in German. In the meantime I'll
have to be kind to myself, and trust that I'm moving forward.