affirmative
I work in an International School. Daily, I am surrounded by multiple languages. I communicate in two.
I communicate well in only one.
As English is the working language of the school community, I conduct most business in person and by phone in my native tongue. Sometimes I forget that it is not the native tongue of everyone in my community.
Part of the variable every-day-is-a-new-adventure job I do is to coordinate the door to door mini bus service of the school. As applications arrive, I process the information and liaise with the taxi company that provides the vans for our "bus" system. Currently, we are in process of a new sort and so it has come to me to call the applicants who have moved up the queue and will be given a seat on the bus. The question/answer session generally consists of me telling them that their application has been processed and their place approved, and would they like to accept this spot in the service on this date specific? They then answer yes or no and we move forward from there. Or the application stops.
Simple.
Kind of.
As I spat out my speech today, reached the end and managed the perfunctory pause to hear the answer to my question, I was met by audible hesitation, and then a single word reply. YES. But the inflection on the statement was unmistakably a question: YES?
And in a moment it was all perfectly clear to me.
I know the sound of this YES.
This YES? that means 'I think I gathered about 25% of what you've just blathered at me, and I can tell from this pause in conversation that it is my turn to speak and the best response at this moment, just might be YES so I am going to throw it in there and hope that you won't start sputtering more rapid fire conversation at me before my brain can process what you've just said and what I have in essence agreed to since I have now uttered a positive pronouncement to your question, which I think was indeed a question, but I can't be certain since I actually, in truth and honesty, have absolutely no idea what you are saying.'
I have used it before.
The day to day reality of speaking Dutch is at best an exercise in futility. I have mentioned before the fact that the Dutch are incredible linguists and most speak not only fluent English, but also at least one or two (or three, four or five) other languages in addition to their own Mother Tongue. Because they are such excellent English speakers and because the accent of an English speaker on the Dutch is so obvious, the most likely scenario in conversation with a Dutchie is that s/he will switch to English to carry on the conversation with ease. I always, always let that happen, because, well, I am just that lazy. So, while I can speak Dutch I am far from fluent, and the bottom line here is I probably will never be. Simply because I don't have to be.
Lest you get the wrong impression of me, please rest assured that I do try mightily to speak the language of my host country and I do study it and engage in (albeit simple) conversation as often as I can. The payoff for my effort is that my receptive skills are strong, and while I cannot prattle with proficiency, I can listen with comfort. Most of the time.
My position however is unique in that I am an English speaker. And that alone makes my experience as an expat in this country entirely different from many who travel here; those for whom learning at least one if not both of the dominant languages of this country is imperative. Like some friends we had in Leiden, who came from Russia (they have since returned to their home country) for whom the negotiation of all things Dutch was next to impossible until they mastered a common language. And people like the woman on the phone today who is working hard, exponentially harder than I have to work, and grappling with a language that is not her own in order to communicate.
People like that impress me deeply.
The phone conversation today really taught me something. Perhaps the lesson is an obvious one, but that doesn't make it any less an epiphany for me. Knowing that I needed to repeat my message caused me to simplify my sentences, to pull back on the rapid fire delivery and in every way possible to SLOW DOWN. And slowing down in that single conversation, taking that breath as it were, made me step back and consider just what it is I do and am doing.
And just how much I like it all, my life.
And maybe, just maybe, how I sometimes rush through it all a little too fast.
I liked that moment of fresh air and deep breathing and I think I should very much like to find that same kind of moment tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that too. Because I don't know everything, and sometimes I only understand some things. But all of the time, I know I am alive, and here, and happy.
And that, friends, is worthy of affirmation.
And she said this about me:
