IMMERSION
The language immersion process hasn’t been such a slap in the face as it was the first time around. After spending a year in French (/Spanish) immersion, not a lot has come unexpected in learning Portuguese. I go through the same types of realizations and epiphanies, and use the same learning strategies as in Spain. I’ve experienced the same range of emotions – it seems long at times and is frustrating in many ways, but is rewarding and eye-opening in the end.
In order to fully embrace words and phrases that I hear, I am constantly muttering to myself – I must seem truly crazy to people in public. I talk to myself in English too, though, so that doesn’t bother me. For me, repetition is the best way to practice pronunciation and improve the fluidity of phrases.
Nathalie and Allie have given me extremely weird looks because of this habit. I usually don’t realize that my utterances are even close to audible… evidently they are. This is something that didn’t happen in Spain, and I’m not quite sure why. I think it was because my host family didn’t think much of it when I was repeating their phrases, but in a more public environment it can be quite strange.
I’ve learned to appreciate the importance of fillers in making conversation natural. They are so fundamental to native speakers that they often go unnoticed. The word “like” in English is probably the most well-known example – most speakers say it often enough that they can’t remove it from their speech even when consciously making an effort to do so. Understanding these utterances in conversation is one of the most significant developments in second language fluency – not only for comprehension, but also for speech.
However, they are particularly difficult to grasp because they don’t usually carry any semantic meaning – rather they serve to connect and frame the meaning in a conversation. Compare this idea to a box built from popsicle sticks and glue – the glue holding everything together and maintaining structure, but going largely unnoticed.
In Portuguese, the realization that “tipo” (pronounced like “cheapoo” in English) is used similarly to “like” in English. It doesn’t convey any specific meaning, but is essential when pausing to think or compare ideas.
DESIRE TO CONNECT
I find that our brains have such a strong desire to connect with people that it can overwork itself in learning. After about 7 weeks of learning French (starting from absolute scratch), Carole’s mom and dad visited for about a week. Whereas there was normally English, Spanish, and French thrown around in the house, we went to a strictly French “diet”.
Carole’s parents issued a decree (yes, a decree) that only French would be spoken while they were in the house, for the sake of the kids’ and my French. I was not at all ready to go 100% French, so most of the time I refrained from speaking unless I had to. Not surprisingly, I was building up a fair amount of frustration because I couldn’t express myself, but I could tell my ear was improving quickly and speech was coming more naturally. About halfway through the week, I got a headache unlike anything I had experienced before. At first I looked for an explanation in my sleep, exercise, or diet, but couldn’t pin anything down as they had been fairly consistent. A good night of sleep seemed to cure it. The next day, however, my head started to throb again in the afternoon during a long conversation. Again, I didn’t think much of it. The following afternoon and evening were spent talking around the table in a 6+ hour conversation. I had migraine-like symptoms by the end of it, so I was planning to go to bed early.
When I laid down, my head wouldn’t stop running over new words that I had learned in the conversation. It felt like my head was already full, but new words were being pumped in every second. It was a constant attack, and there was no escaping it. I would try to clear my mind, but words would pop up. The words forced themselves into comprehensible phrases, and then the cycle would repeat. It seemed never-ending, and quite nightmarish. I didn’t sleep at all that night. It is still a very vivid memory over a year later.
So far, nothing like that has happened here. Given my circumstances at Casa do Campus and at work, I don’t expect it to.
REWIRING
The combination of a few factors have made the learning process slower here than in Spain. To begin, I spend the majority of my days at work, and everyone can speak English. Recently, our conversations have consisted of both Portuguese and English; I speak in English with a few phrases in Portuguese, and they speak in Portuguese with select words in English.
Secondly, I don’t always feel completely comfortable trying my Portuguese at work because I have more to lose than just my dignity. In Spain, it didn’t matter if I made no sense as we were always in a lighthearted family environment. Here, though, there is time and money at stake and English is usually the best option to maximize efficiency and minimize miscommunication. Another aspect that makes it more difficult to learn here is that I don’t have consistent voices as I did in Spain. I learned the majority of my French from only two voices (my host mom and dad); their speech patterns were regular, making it easy to recognize new vocabulary and expressions. Here, I have some 20+ voices that I hear every day, half of which are not native. Learning from non-natives is good in that they speak a bit slower and use simpler vocabulary, but difficult in that their syntax is not always natural and pronunciation may be adapted to their tongue.
It feels like I have been losing my French fluency as I force my brain to rewire. Portuguese and Spanish are similar enough that I think the vocabulary and syntax inventories are stored in the same place in my brain. French, though, seems farther away and has faded quite a bit since I arrived. I’m not sure how it all works, though, because my comprehension hasn’t faltered, and in some conversations I surprise myself with how naturally it comes.
Usually I can’t switch tracks unless I try only to think of the pronouns in the language. Because they are so fundamental to language structure and interaction, they seem to serve as guide rails.
THE LANGUAGE BARRIER AS A CONNECTING MEDIUM
When considering foreign tongues, we can let language be a barrier or a medium by which we connect with people.
There’s no doubt that the barrier can be frustrating, but I’ve found that it can foster affection and interest if you let it. It all depends on your approach and perspective. If I go into a conversation assuming that I communicate perfectly and that English is a universal language, rather than viewing language as a privilege and opportunity, I tend to end up more frustrated because I never meet my own expectations.
The barrier can result in very entertaining miscommunications. There are a few common words in Spanish that are palavrões (swear words) in Brazilian Portuguese; this has created some funny situations in which a trivial word for one person is a vulgar word with weighty connotation. And laughing with someone is one of the ways I connect most with others.
I think the language “barrier” is one of the reasons I appreciate Prof Carlos so much. He is an amazing guy to begin with – intelligent, personable, engaging. But I admire his willingness to relearn English after so long. On top of all his other responsibilities, he takes time out of his day to accommodate us and talk with us in English. Even when he’s struggling in a conversation, he’s patient and maintains his good humor.
Speaking and struggling in a conversation with someone immediately shows that you appreciate that person. Imagine I’m talking to a friend, Aziz, from France. When he takes the extra effort to engage in a conversation in my native language, I know that he genuinely takes interest in getting to know me and my culture – it certainly isn’t out of convenience or habit. He could be talking easily to any of the other 15 people in the house that speak French, but he goes out of his way to get to know me.
As you learn a language from a person or group of people, you are constantly learning about the way they think and interact with the world.
Fun facts and random notes:
- Allie’s comments, round three: “When driving through the American Midwest, you have three options for I Spy: corn, pigs, and corn that looks like pigs.”
- At Rockhead, they call me Lat but pronounce it “latch”. It’s pronounced the same as the 2nd person imperative form of “latir”, “to bark” in English.
- Walking to work a few days ago, a car drove through a puddle just at the wrong time. Filthy water soaked my light grey pants. Amazing 🙂 … I’ve always wondered what it would be like to actually have that happen to me.
- Proud moment from my inner spaniard: a girl from Galicia labeled me as “the most Spanish American” that she’d ever met.
Thanks for taking the time to write about your adventures. I love to hear about the places and people you encounter and the things you learn and experience. Love you, Mom