November 15th,
2019
1:43 A.M.
Montevideo, Uruguay
Connection. What a fascinating subject! We're all biologically hardwired to want it, but how we obtain it can be a bit of a challenge.
It’s something I’ve thought a lot about while learning another language,
especially since I’m the type of person that loves to be surrounded by people. And not only do I like to be surrounded, but I connect with people by talking about
really intricate, complex topics. I’m not really a fan of small talk. I’ve been told
multiple times in one form or another, “Why do you always bring the
conversation so high? Why does it have to be so complicated all the time?” (My
simple answer to this is because life is complicated and I find more joy in the
complexities of it all.) But one of the things I’ve been asking almost every person I’ve met here who’s bilingual is this question:
"How do you connect with someone in a language that's not your native tongue?"
Logically, I know it’s possible, since I have plenty of friends that
speak with me in their second, or in some cases, their third language. However, it’s SO
difficult for me to understand this concept of “real connection”. Yes, of course we can converse back and forth,
but so much emotion and connotation is put into each word I speak while using
English. When speaking Spanish, I’m merely going through the motions. With
time, of course I will progress, but right now it’s something I find very
perplexing.
For the past few weeks this has been on my mind constantly. Some
of the friends I’ve made in Montevideo are volunteers that are living here from Germany,
so of course, we speak in English because they’re all fluent. I keep telling
myself to stop being surprised, but there are so many moments when either I
might say a joke, or they’ll come up with one on their own, but it’s pure
language humor, and I have to take 3 seconds in my brain to be in complete awe that they
understand. To be clear, this has nothing to do with their intelligence but more to do with
my own inability to do this in another language.
One would think that my abnormal love for grammar, reading,
and writing would be immensely helpful, but most days the one consistent
thought is, “Because I don’t understand everything, I understand nothing.” Is
this totally irrational? Abso-freaking-lutely. Literally I can process, but it’s
the undertones that I’m yearning for.
Why did you phrase that sentence that way?
Are you being passive aggressive?
What does that tone paired with that sentence say about how
you’re feeling?
Should I be passive aggressive?
What does this hand gesture mean with that sentence?
It can be isolating at times when you literally understand
what someone is saying but get lost in the sentiment.
Which is why today was special.
Yes, there are still many things I find fascinating about
being fluent in another language, but today was the first day when I felt the
comfort of speaking in English when I was actually conversing in Spanish.
One of my jobs is working at Espacio VAR, a multifunctional
space that hosts various activities each month. This October and November we’ve been
doing Sign Language workshops, and this afternoon before class began, I was
able to sit and talk with one of my co-workers, Fede, about a topic that I
continuously find daunting: my career.
It wasn’t until halfway through the conversation when Fede
said a word I didn’t understand that I realized how engaged I was. I had
already pulled out my “mind map notebook” of color coded facts about things I knew to be
true about myself, things I knew could change, things I knew I wanted out of
life, etc. and was explaining each point and its sub-points when I felt a sense
of normalcy in our conversation. Was I at complete peace? No, of course not; I was translating everything I wanted to say the entire time. But I appreciate how easy it was to translate each sentence. Now, whether it was grammatically correct is another thing, but I was able to express how I felt with ease and could connect with the emotions Fede was describing in his own life and compare it to mine.
