Well well well. Welcome, Wednesday, with wondrously wild words with Ws. How weird is that? I inadvertently broke the chain of words starting with a "W" sound by writing "W." Our language never ceases to amaze me. The words that look like they should rhyme but don't (i.e. 'how' and 'low') and the opposite (i.e. 'laughter' and 'daughter') are just the tip of the iceberg. I know these oddities exist in every language, but I have the most practice with this one.
Since I can remember, I've always loved language. I doubt that surprises too many of you out there. I'll eternally be grateful that my elementary school had us learning little bits of Spanish each week, because I think that started my relationship with words and different tongues off on the right foot. (I am right-footed, by the way.) I clearly remember a teacher who would keep juggling as long as the class could count along in Spanish. We all knew how to say the 1-9 part consistently, but it was Cheryl Tan who helped us when we froze with fear after 39, 49, and 59. Sadly, she couldn't remember "setenta" at the time, so his arms got a little break in between lessons. In hindsight, that was a pretty awesome technique.
After graduating 6th grade, I probably only knew the same amount of Spanish that they teach in the first semester of Spanish 1. However, when my fellow classmates were still learning the pronouns, I could successfully conjugate regular verbs in the present tense. And you know what? I frickin' loved it. During the same time, I was working at the pizza place and talking with native speakers often. My vocabulary grew exponentially (for better and for worse), so I knew how to say some things a year or two before learning why I said them like that.
I ate the lessons up. Spanish was fun and it actually made sense - much more sense than the sentence diagrams Mrs. Dunlop was trying to teach us in English. After a couple of years with it, I was technically sound with my Spanish knowledge and comprehension. There was one big problem though: I sounded as gringo as gringo can sound. I remember going into the Spanish-for-Spanish-speakers class my junior year to talk to my teacher. I told her that I had just watched "El Mariachi" the night before and really enjoyed it. One of the students looked up, and laughing, repeated, "El Mar-ee-otch-ee." I realized then that if I wanted to be taken seriously with that language, something had to be done.
So what did I do? Acting! I started imitating native speakers. I'm pretty good at impressions, and I assumed the character of someone who was raised speaking Spanish. It worked. I started sounding more like I spoke Spanish because I kept imitating people who actually did. I continued with my impression every time I opened my mouth to speak Spanish until that became my normal accent in that language. My CAHP (Convincing Accent High Point) came a year or so later. I said something in Spanish, and a native speaker asked me why I spoke so well. In Spanish, I replied that my mom was from Argentina. He nodded, accepting my statement as true. I immediately set him straight and told him how happy that made me that I convinced him so easily.
Since I can remember, I've always loved language. I doubt that surprises too many of you out there. I'll eternally be grateful that my elementary school had us learning little bits of Spanish each week, because I think that started my relationship with words and different tongues off on the right foot. (I am right-footed, by the way.) I clearly remember a teacher who would keep juggling as long as the class could count along in Spanish. We all knew how to say the 1-9 part consistently, but it was Cheryl Tan who helped us when we froze with fear after 39, 49, and 59. Sadly, she couldn't remember "setenta" at the time, so his arms got a little break in between lessons. In hindsight, that was a pretty awesome technique.
After graduating 6th grade, I probably only knew the same amount of Spanish that they teach in the first semester of Spanish 1. However, when my fellow classmates were still learning the pronouns, I could successfully conjugate regular verbs in the present tense. And you know what? I frickin' loved it. During the same time, I was working at the pizza place and talking with native speakers often. My vocabulary grew exponentially (for better and for worse), so I knew how to say some things a year or two before learning why I said them like that.
I ate the lessons up. Spanish was fun and it actually made sense - much more sense than the sentence diagrams Mrs. Dunlop was trying to teach us in English. After a couple of years with it, I was technically sound with my Spanish knowledge and comprehension. There was one big problem though: I sounded as gringo as gringo can sound. I remember going into the Spanish-for-Spanish-speakers class my junior year to talk to my teacher. I told her that I had just watched "El Mariachi" the night before and really enjoyed it. One of the students looked up, and laughing, repeated, "El Mar-ee-otch-ee." I realized then that if I wanted to be taken seriously with that language, something had to be done.
So what did I do? Acting! I started imitating native speakers. I'm pretty good at impressions, and I assumed the character of someone who was raised speaking Spanish. It worked. I started sounding more like I spoke Spanish because I kept imitating people who actually did. I continued with my impression every time I opened my mouth to speak Spanish until that became my normal accent in that language. My CAHP (Convincing Accent High Point) came a year or so later. I said something in Spanish, and a native speaker asked me why I spoke so well. In Spanish, I replied that my mom was from Argentina. He nodded, accepting my statement as true. I immediately set him straight and told him how happy that made me that I convinced him so easily.
I continued with my Spanish studies through college, where I ended up minoring in it. I was going to double major (and was on track to do so for three years), but it just got too tough to read novels of 17th century literature from Spain. After graduation, I began using my acquired skill less and less, and I watched it slowly start to slip away. A lot of it's still there, and I think it would only take a week or so in Mexico to get almost completely back on track.
And guess what? My lovely wife and I are taking a Mexican vacation next month, so I can put that theory to the test. Until then, I'm getting my Mexican rock cds back in the rotation right away. They always seem to help. I don't think I'll get back to my high point of occasionally dreaming in Spanish, but as long as I can eavesdrop better I'll be ok. I get bits and pieces of conversations now, but I've stopped trying for the most part because it takes too much effort.
(The one dream I most clearly remember in Spanish involved a group of us including my dad who were some kind of assassins. We didn't kill people with guns or knives though, because that would actually make sense. Instead, I remember my dad teaching me how certain tap dance combinations could prove lethal. He was illustrating one but purposely left the last step out so that he didn't kill anyone in the room. We all practiced and prepared for the next hit. When I started telling someone about that dream the next day, it suddenly hit me that my dad was instructing us in Spanish and that the whole dream was. Naturally, I was thrilled. And before you ask, no, I don't remember the tap sequence. Or do I....)
My co-worker Rob doesn't speak any Spanish at all (and to my horror once asked for a "polo burrito"), so every time we pass someone anyone conversing in that language, I tell him that they just referred to him as "White Devil." Big laughs each time. Ok, so only on my end, but still.
I'm gonna stop here. I could keep typing about language for a long time, but then my pile of real work would get jealous. Have a good day, gentle readers. We welcome Wednesdays when warm winds wash wasabi widget wikipedia window Wookie whatshisface weapons. Hey, alliterations are easy! See you tomorrow, folks.
2 comments:
What happens to UOPTA when you go to Mexico? Are you going to be like David Letterman and have a Guest Host for the week? If so, I vote for Robin Williams or Dane Cook.
Actually, yes, there will be a guest blogger. I'll explain more in this week's FUF. Can you feel the suspense?
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