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Languages: Same But Different

June 29, 2015 1 Comment

“Oh, you know.” The German brunette pushed her glasses up her nose. “It’s like you Americans and the British.”

I felt my eyebrows squiggle a wrinkle right over my nose as I tried to grasp what she was telling me. “What do you mean?”

“Well, German from Germany is the real German, not like the Austrian German. Just like the British English is the correct English opposed to American English.”

My eyebrows discarded their wrinkle, rising high on my forehead, and I tried to swallow my offense down. I didn’t mind that she was proud of her country, but did she just say that my native English was not correct?

I forced a laugh out. “Oh, I just like to think that our two different styles of English are just different languages completely.”

The German girl didn’t look convinced. The conversation ended moments later as she awkwardly excused herself to talk to someone else.

But I’m convinced.

During the past couple of weeks, I’ve had the fun of living, working, and interacting with English speakers from the United Kingdom. We speak the same language supposedly.

But let me tell you. For a while, I had a moment once a day where someone had to translate the British English for me or vice versa for my fellow British English speakers in regards to my American English. Who would have thought that we could be speaking the exact same language and completely misunderstand each other?

It happens. More often than I care to admit honestly.

Mostly it’s simple things like, “Can you pick up the ore-ah-gah-no, bah-zil, and toe-mah-toe from the supermarket?”

And my brain spazzes out, forcing a clarifying question. “Do you mean ore-ray-geh-no, bay-zil, and toe-may-toe?”

Then we just look at each other with confusion. Isn’t that what I just said?

It’s small moments like these where I squint at my feet wondering when my ruby red slippers will appear and I expect the weight of a basket with a little black dog. Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

One thing I learned from these different moments is that it’s okay to have British English, American English, Australian English, New Zealand English. And I won’t be going around telling someone from Australia that their English is not the proper English. Sure, we’re speaking the same language, but it is different. Speaking of which, did you know that there’s Germany’s German, Austria’s German, and Switzerland’s German?

What About You?

Have you ever had a language moment that reminds you that your language isn’t the standard for all speakers?

Stumbling Around Culture Shock

June 25, 2015 Leave a Comment

Do you know that one girl (or maybe your mom) who just has these crazy expectations–flat out impossible to fulfill? Yeah, that’s not my mom. That’s me.

I expect some pretty big things from myself. Never from you. Just from me honestly.

For example, I often end up hating my body because I still can’t do 5 chin-ups. A measly five! But then again, I also hate working out.
And then, there’s this impossible belief that I should instantly understand and speak languages from other countries. Obviously, I’m having some sort of personality crisis, expecting myself to be Dr. Who or some language superpower.
On top of all that, I expect perfection from myself. Nonsensical, right? No one expects that from me. Only me.

My self-talk goes like this:
I should be fluent in Spanish because I spent most of my life loving and studying the language.
I should be proficient at piano after the 10 years of studying it.
I should flourish in every situation, culture, people group, language, job and thing that I do.
I should never show weakness or insecurity because I am strong and capable.

As it is, I’d be lucky to be able to carry on any type of conversation with a native Spanish speaker, stumble my way through a simple piano piece, feel a tiny bit at home in a culture that I didn’t grow up in.
Obviously, there’s a problem here.
My expectations are choking the life out of me again (yeah, this isn’t a new problem) before I even get one chin-up completed.

Culture shock makes me look at my life again. What have I been unknowingly and ridiculously expecting of myself?
1. Having best friends after two weeks?
2. Knowing everything there is to know about my job?
3. Understanding a language I didn’t hear until a year and a half ago?
It takes people years to do these things in their home countries. Why would I ever think I could do these things in a shorter time in a country not my own? Talk about unreachable expectations.
No wonder I feel like I’ve been kicked hard in the gut! No wonder I miss my friends, family, and culture so much.
When you move anywhere, be it another country or just the next town over, life as you knew it shifted. Be kind to yourself and don’t expect the impossible! But take time to connect to the things or groups that interest you, and keep going even when all you feel is your lack of lifelong relationships with people.

My Culture Shock grace-to-self List

For me, I will celebrate that I can hang from the chin-up bar for twenty-five seconds when before I could hold it for five seconds.
And I’ll be happy that at my workout group, the girls are beginning to smile at me when I arrive.
I’ll enjoy public transportation and walking around with my book in front of my face because people steer around you then.
Five minute breaks at work for doing handstands in the break room.
And eat the dang Pavlova if that’s what I want.
(P.S. It’s okay to tell people that you miss your friends, family, and home.)

Let’s dial it down to being thankful for those tiny things that show bit by bit connection and improvement.

What About You?

How do you deal with culture shock?

Dreaming of Paris

June 22, 2015 Leave a Comment

Who of you have visited Paris? Please raise your hand. Oh, right. I can’t see you.

Well, that’s disappointing. Who’s going to tell me where I should go to see all the fun landmarks and historical statues?

Sure. Sure. Eiffel Tower. Got it.

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But I want to visit that side street cafe that you fell in love with! While there, I want to order your favorite meal and sample bits of Paris through the memories of my friends.

Would you direct me to your favorite tree for sitting under and having an impromptu picnic with your most current read?

I’ll be there in about a month. So you have time to map out your favorite spaces so I can find them again.

Comment below or tell me on my Facebook page!