Here they refer to people from the United Kingdom as “islanders”. I have become familiar with languages to the east and west of it with joy and ease, yet when I’m faced with it’s mother tongue I cower. I have been here for the better part of four months and haven’t learned much about it. I owe it more, it deserves more. What a tough little town, to lose a world war twice. To be abandoned by its conquerors, and yet bounce back with so much vitality and youthfulness.
I went out on my own for dinner tonight. I had Italian -spaghetti bolognese, with a nice red wine. Three glasses actually. The dessert was apple pie, with honey, cinnamon and vanilla ice cream on the side. The wine was named “Montenegro”. There were five young ladies at the next table finishing up dinner and enjoying conversation -trading stories about where they have been. I’ve heard names like Czech, Bulgaria, and Kyrgyzstan. I’ve been to those places too. They spoke English better than I did. I enjoyed my Italian dinner and American dessert with Balkan wine in close proximity to lovely Middle Eastern and African ladies whom were brought together by the pursuit for higher education
I am afraid of the local language for no particular reason, but while being here and learning about languages I learned about Esperanto, created by Dr. Ludwig L. Zamenhof. It was dreamed up by a single man in the late 17th century with the hopes of bringing peace to the world through a common (second) language. He was a Pole and a Jew in a place and time when it was risky to be either. In the end he was murdered for what he was. Do him the honor of looking up his language. You might fall in love with it.
You should be proud, Doctor Z. The world is coming together under a common language. In a way, you got what you wanted. You constructed a language long before it was trendy to do so for reasons of fantasy. You did it for a better reality. Unfortunately the common language that is gluing the world together is nowhere near as easy and elegant as your creation.
There are still some people in the world that aren’t happy with the current reality. Some politically, some financially. While I took in all of this culture for my dinner experience, I was listening to an audio book. One about love. Intimacy and sex specifically, by Esther Perel. She was born in Antwerp (I’ve been there) and went to school in Israel and the U.S. (I’ve been to the later). I want to learn a second language. So far I have nine languages and over eight thousand points on Duolingo. I can’t really say why I want to learn a second language. Being a polyglot is one of the hardest things a person with my brain can do. Fixing things comes naturally, intuitively even. I can teach, and I can tell a good story. I can math in public, but ask me to conjugate a verb and my heart speeds up. I can wonder off in an eastern European country by myself, but tell me to write a fiction story and I break out in a cold sweat.
Audible has helped me. I love learning, but have trouble with written words. Especially if someone with a very different mind than mine feels his or her words are important. Dyslexia is real son of a bitch. With audiobooks I have learned about religion, language, history, energy, getting other people to pay you to whitewash your fence, the experience of a theoretical eastern European family in the cattle processing history of Chicago, the Ministry of Love, and the real story behind the benevolent character, Uncle Tom.
Turns out I am a polyglot. Not only can I speak English, but I also know something about love, math and experience. If I wanted so jump into conversation with those women I could have used any of those languages. Instead I decided to focus on the conversation between my plate and my pallet.
What is experience? Is it an event that leaves an indelible mark on your mind, or is it a way your mind interprets a specific event? Do you have an experience that is unique to you? Which language can you share it in?
