#languageslearning

I learned French in high school using the ALS method where you had a language lab. In this lab you had to use a tape recorder, wear headphones and speak out loud, all of which I thoroughly disliked. (Though I will admit that I can still recite some of the “dialogues” with my sister, stuff like “Bonjour Paul, je m’appelle Jeanne LeBlanc” and “Ou est la bibliotheque?” So maybe there was something to the method.) Anyway, in the recent past I resumed my study of French with a tutor and got to the point where I can converse fairly well. Then I decided to tackle Spanish since it is much more practical than French. I am not saying this to show off, it’s just that I truly enjoy learning a new language. I relish the differences in how people from other countries word things; you get a peek into their culture that is fascinating. When I grasp a new word or grammar fact I feel a sense of accomplishment. Though sadly, when confronted with an opportunity to actually say something in Spanish (or Italian, my new goal) my mind usually goes blank and I fail to even hear what the other person is saying (and seeing my face they have usually quickly switched back to English) because I am wracking my brain for what I thought I knew. Ah well, it takes time and I must be patient with myself. (Oh, once I tried to learn sign language to use at work since I had a couple of deaf patients. I did great signing until the person answered. It was all backwards and I looked like a deer in the headlights as I grabbed paper and pen to continue the conversation.) The cool thing is that I believe this affinity for languages runs in the family. My middle daughter is fluent in Spanish and Mandarin. And my Aunt Kitty, 86 years old and not in the best of health, is fluent in French, speaks some German and Spanish, and (get this) is now thinking of resuming her study of Arabic. Merci and gracias to whatever ancestor passed this on down to us!