I'll Always Have Lisbon...

I've been keeping secrets from you. OK, maybe it's not a secret as such, but I'm like a million years late in telling you about a major linguistic event in my life: I spent last March in Lisbon for a mega dose of Portuguese immersion.

I didn't blog about this while it was happening because there was a lot of other stuff taking up all my spare headspace at the time, like discussing my return to Germany with my family.

A few months before my trip, I picked a language school* purely on the basis that its lesson timetable suited me: Grammar torture sessions lasting an hour and a half three times a week, alternating with conversation classes on the other days - perfect for a digital nomad like me who ought to be reachable for their clients during office hours.

And I got lucky. The classes were small, between 2-5 students, lead by really motivated, experienced teachers who enjoyed what they were doing. I even did my homework every day... including extra grammar exercises, and that's totally unheard of. I learnt a ton - and I so wanted to stay on for another couple of months (or forever!) to keep filling those gaps. The school also laid on a series of free guided tours in Portuguese once or twice a week during the afternoons.

So, the school part was excellent, no qualms about that. A minor sticking point for me was the accommodation. I had opted for a home-stay with one of the school's staff members (a techie, not a teacher). That way, I had hoped, I was going to get some daily conversation in a domestic setting. My Portuguese was pretty OK at this point, so I wasn't "hard work" like communicating with a beginner would be.

The reality didn't quite turn out that way. Although the guy I was staying with was perfectly nice, polite, helpful and always responded warmly when I was in need of some info, he clearly preferred to keep himself to himself. And since I'm not one for forcing myself onto people, I was careful to respect his space. Also, it was unseasonably cold for March, and there was no heating in the flat, which is normal for Lisbon, but still bloody uncomfortable. And then I came down with a stonking cold. And a cough. And conjunctivitis. Those daily trips to the pharmacy worked wonders for my Portuguese, though.

I also managed to get together with a local chap I met a couple of years ago on conversationexchange.com. Lucky for me (but not so much for him), he was off work with a broken arm and so had plenty of time to waste on me. We went on long walks through his home city, switching between several languages every few minutes.

I'm really suffering from those dreary winter months in Germany right now; they make me think back often to this trip and I dream of doing something like this again, if not in Lisbon then maybe in Porto. I even have a local school recommendation from one of my classmates! Unfortunately, next year is not looking very likely...

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* The Language school I attended is called Português Et Cetera and the link is here https://www.portuguesetcetera.com. They also have a facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/portuguesetcetera/ 

My Spanish is far from flawless. Have I failed?

Six months ago, I left Spain without ever reaching the level of linguistic perfection that I set out to achieve when I moved there.

There are many reasons for this, which I will go into at some point. In this post, though, I want to sum up briefly what these six years in Spain have actually done for my Spanish.

I'd been studying Spanish on and off since I was a teenager, and despite a couple of flashy certificates, including several from the London Chamber of Commerce which I clinched sometime back in the nineties, I could never really hold any more than the most basic of conversations. I don't think we ever even touched on the subjunctive, which seems like a bad joke, considering that I was certified to dominate the language to an "Advanced Level."

Little did I know then that it would take another 20 years for my skills to actually warrant this kind of certification. My time in Spain has made all the difference. In a nutshell:

• I am now fluent in Spanish and can hold my own on any topic, even in a group in a noisy bar. I can listen, read and speak without having to translate in my head.
• I'm able to read books at normal speed. Novels, biographies, anything. I wont lie - the first five nearly gave me a brain haemorrhage, but after that, things shifted to that very enjoyable place where you get sucked right into the story, rather than labouring over the lines and having to look up every fifth word. I've got tons of Spanish books on my Kindle and I read in Spanish every day. 
• Besides books, I watch series for escapism, and there's tons of them freely accessible on RTVE (Radio Television Española). Best of all, they come with subtitles and transcripts! I don't need those to follow the plot, but I like having them turned on so that I can pick out the odd word or useful expression that's not yet part of my repertoire. Every time I watch an episode, I learn one or two things. But watching series is definitely a recreational activity and not "studying." 
• Spanish is now firmly part of my hard drive. I will never forget it like some language learnt at school or in an evening class. Nobody can take it away from me - it's always available and ready to use for enjoyable activities. 

And I've just realised another thing: there are even advantages to my Spanish not being perfect: It could serve as a tool to expand my social circle, which can be hard to do when you suddenly find yourself being part of "the older generation." So, I've been looking at evening classes for next semester, and I found a couple that might make fertile ground for getting to know new people. They are both advanced level Spanish (C1), centred around conversation and discussing current affairs. Taking an English class to make new friends would be just plain silly, and as for signing up for classes in other languages, I've come to the conclusion that having to focus intently on the various in-class exercises sucks up all of my energy - I have none left for putting on a be-my-friend face. I get so frustrated wrestling with the language that I shut down instead of engaging openly with my classmates. I feel that in a Spanish class, I'd be much more relaxed. Well, that's the theory... I shall report on how it's working (or not) in practice. 

Portuguese class isn't working for me, and I can't figure out why!

I went to my Portuguese class last night. Or rather, I dragged myself there. Signed up for it in October, it was advertised as an advanced conversation class, held in central Munich. It takes me about 30-40 minutes to get there. There was nothing closer to where I live at this level - all I could find was beginners' courses in Brazilian Portuguese (I want European).

I really enjoyed the first few classes, I guess it was a bit of a honeymoon period. The classes are centred around a book, O Viagem Do Elefante (The Elephant's Journey), by José Saramago.

I'm at a loss as to why this has become such a struggle. True, the level is high - C2! - but I can follow the book and the discussion in class just fine. I even contribute. Maybe not as much or as eloquently as I'd like to, but it's a small class (6-10 people), so there's room for everyone to chip in.

I like the teacher, she's warm and friendly and very knowledgeable - and from Lisbon, I think. My classmates are nice people as well as interesting - there's an American woman, a French woman, someone who spent his childhood years in Lisbon, a son of Portuguese immigrants, and a guy who has a house in Portugal and spends half the year over there. And I do love books. I'm really enjoying "The Elephant," it's clever and witty and am thinking of reading more by this Nobel-Prize-winning author.

So, what don't I like about this class?

• Having to read out loud. In any language. It's a foible of mine... but I can do it, and everyone is really patient with me.
• Schlepping into town on these cold, dark evenings is the pits.
• Being the worst in class. My level of Portuguese is noticeably lower than everyone else's. But I expected that when I signed up - it's a C2, after all, and that's the highest level there is. I get frustrated with my incompetence and can't stop thinking that, if it were Spanish, I'd be sailing through this and contributing lots and lots.
• For some reason, I'm not connecting with my classmates. I expected to be making friends, but it just isn't happening. The fault, I fear, lies with me, not them. I can feel myself shutting down, isolating myself. It feels like I've got some kind of wall around me while I'm there. Not sure why this is happening or how I can get over myself. I'm worried that, since I've now set up this unfortunate dynamic, it's going to be hard to change it.

The class runs till 24th January, and I've not yet signed up for the next semester. I wish there was something closer to where I live, but there just isn't. There's another class in town, a C1 conversation class. I might try that one for the coming semester. Oh, I just don't know...

I love Portuguese with a passion and not only do I want to keep up my level, but I want to improve! I feel I need a new strategy, and I'm currently ruminating over it.

Coming Full Circle

If you had asked me five years ago if I would ever consider moving back to Germany, I'd have said, "NEVER in a million years!"

I guess you all know what's coming now.

Yup, I'm back in Germany. For good. I think. After 26 years!

I landed in Munich after my one-way flight from Madrid on the last day of June, provoked by a family situation. Since then, it's been kinda hellish - getting my flat ready took far longer than anticipated, and the family stuff has been harrowing. Now I have finally moved into my own place,  the dust is starting to settle, and I'm searching for "The New Normal."

I don't know yet how my new life is going to unfold, but I do know this: Despite a long break from blogging, my language journey remains central to my life. And I'm asking myself all sorts of angsty questions like:

• Will English remain my dominant language or will German re-instate itself? If so, how long until that happens and do I even want that to  happen? I'm really torn on this... on the one hand, I hate having to search for German vocab for much longer than is considered decent for a native speaker, and on the other hand, I'm terrified of corrupting my English.
• How will I maintain - and continue to improve! - my Spanish and my Portuguese? These languages are a treasured part of me and I can't stand the thought of losing them. The Portuguese is much more of a problem, since my links to that language (and its speakers) are much weaker than is the case for Spanish, which I still use every day.
• What is going to happen to my Russian? It's suffered total neglect since I left Spain, abandoning my weekly lessons. 

So,  there's a lot to process and many adjustments to make. And I shall be writing about it...

My Five Favourite Language Learning Milestones

The road to fluency is long and lined with potholes, into which we want to crawl and never come out of again. The threat of failure stalks us every step of the way, especially in the intermediate stages, and we'd never make it, if there weren't for those splendid little successes that crop up, sometimes when we least expect them. And they have nothing whatsoever to do with passing exams or getting certificates. Here we go:

1. You can identify "your" language(s). You can tell instantly that that book page with Cyrillic text someone's shared on Facebook is, in fact, Ukrainian and not Russian. Or even though you haven't the foggiest idea of what those tourists walking in front of you in the street are yakking on about, you know for certain that it's German and not Dutch, Danish or Swedish. And then you turn the corner really quickly, because it would be soooo embarrassing if they actually tried to ask you anything right now...

2. You've had your first successful communication with a native speaker. It was only half a mangled sentence, but, by golly, you've managed to order yourself a coffee! WHOOP! And the waiter came back... with a coffee! Double-WHOOP! Suddenly, all those hours spent poring over grammar exercises and combing through flashcards seem worthwhile. This experience is so intoxicating that it instantly turns you into a junkie, constantly on the lookout for the next fix. In fact, you're going to ask the waiter RIGHT NOW for the way to the toilet. Even though you can see the door with a big "WC" sign on it from where you're sitting.

3. Remember our tourists from #1? You've now arrived at the point where you can give them directions. (Except if you're me - I'm incapable of giving directions in any language. Must be something congenital. A few months ago, a French couple asked me the way to the cathedral. My response was to raise my right arm and point it in the approximate direction, accompanied by a couple of encouraging grunts - a bit like a gorilla attempting a Nazi salute. Not sure I helped those guys find the cathedral, but it did make them chuckle...)

4. You've understood a joke in your target language. It was trite, banal, barely half a notch above slapstick. But you laughed and laughed till you nearly peed your pants. Because you "got" it. Oh, you were so impressed with yourself that you shared that little gem of teenage humour with all those friends of yours who are native speakers of that language. The next morning, mysteriously, your friend count is down by a dozen.

5. You can follow and engage in a conversation in a noisy bar. This really is the acid test. Until you are in the situation of trying to communicate in another language in a busy place stuffed to the rafters with people and music blaring, you'll probably never have realised just how much work your brain is having to do, which you're mostly unconscious of. Usually, even if you can only hear every third word or so, as long as it's your native language, your brain fills in the blanks for you. It's like when you're engrossed in a book and you're not actually reading the words, but "recognising" them, and when you turn the page, you already know what the next word will be before you see it. If you're still grappling with a language somewhere at intermediate level, your grey cells won't, can't perform this task. You actually need to hear/see every single word in order to understand what's going on - especially since you're still struggling with so much unknown vocab. But once the switch finally flicks and you've mastered the heaving bar scenario, you know you have truly arrived!

Socialising Dilemmas: Which Language?!

Multilingual life can throw up some curious problems in social situations. Even if the people who get together have several languages in common, things can still get unexpectedly awkward.

A few months ago, my Portuguese teacher's son, Jaime, invited me and his mother for lunch in Madrid. Jaime lives and works in Switzerland, and since his German is a bit on the wobbly side, I'd been helping him with his CVs, interview preparation, emails, etc. for the past year and a half. He was briefly in Spain for a wedding, and this would be the first time we'd meet face-to-face.

Teresa was already there when I got to the restaurant, and we chatted in Portuguese while waiting for her son to turn up. When Jaime arrived, we first had to settle on which language to speak. (I usually speak Spanish with him, and some German.) In theory, we share three languages in common: Spanish, Portuguese and English. We decided on Spanish, based on the rationale that my Spanish is significantly better than my Portuguese and that this way, nobody would be left struggling with the conversation. Or so we thought.

After ordering our food, Jaime and I launched right into catching up, since we'd not spoken to each other in a few weeks. At some point, I turned to Teresa to ask her something. She looked at me blankly. Then she said, "Sorry, I'm not actually listening to the conversation... in my head, I'm correcting everything you're saying into Portuguese!"

Ooops.

You see, Teresa and I never speak in Spanish to each other. Except for when I can't think of how to say something in Portuguese, then she helps me out. I also tend to mess up my Portuguese by mixing in Spanish words and expressions (this drives her mad), and in her capacity as my teacher, it's always been her job to correct me relentlessly. It's a deeply ingrained protocol which has served me (and my Portuguese) very well, but in this lunch situation, not so much...

Writing is Just So Damn Hard!

My Portuguese teacher despairs of me. "So, have you written anything this week...?" I look at my fingernails and shake my head. Nope. BUT, as I'm trying to point out to  her, I have done some 'homework' - I've been reading a novel, I've completed various exercises in my grammar & vocab book, I've listened to a couple of podcasts, I've been watching cartoons in Portuguese while having my lunch. I do realise that one lesson a week is not enough to advance my language skills and that I need to work at it a little bit every day. But... I just don't like writing.

"How can you NOT like writing? You write for a living!" She glares at me in stupefaction. I shift uncomfortably in my chair.

Yes, it's a paradox, I realise. In fact, I love writing. As long as I know what I'm doing. I don't like patching together a Frankenessay of words that just don't collocate, sloshing about in a sea of mutilated grammar. I don't like making mistakes, and what I like even less is having a written record of them. It's like being fat in your wedding photo.

I didn't really start writing in English until I was almost in my mid-twenties, when I had to compose my first ever academic essay. At that point, I'd already spent several years in an English-speaking country, in total immersion, reading, listening and speaking, and so I virtually no trouble producing a coherent piece of writing, more or less indistinguishable from something concocted by a native speaker. I'd had so much language input that, when it finally came to producing output, it all came completely naturally. I'd built up sufficient muscle over the years without even noticing or making a conscious effort.

A little while ago, I read In Other Words, by Jhumpa Lahiri, an American writer of Indian heritage (the fact that she's bilingual and bicultural adds an intriguing twist, but I won't go into that right now). Lahiri is already an acclaimed writer (in English) when she moves from the US to Italy and starts writing in Italian, a language she's deeply passionate about. She's been studying Italian on and off for many years, but without ever becoming fluent. She's determined to finally conquer this language and she's doing a lot more than "just" living in Italy and keeping her diary in Italian - she's actually writing In Other Words entirely in Italian - a book destined for publication. So, she's fiddling about with dictionaries, she's having to write in the simplest of sentences, she's totally out of her depth. It's an excruciating process for her, like writing a letter blindfolded, with a pencil wedged between frost bitten toes. And of course, she needs to have everything proofread over and over again by native Italian writers.

She succeeds, evidently, overcoming her fears, limitations, frustrations and incompetence. And she does become fluent in Italian. Kudos to her.

Lahiri is not the only successful author to write in a non-native language, but I'm guessing that not many have attempted such a feat while their command of the language was still rather on the patchy side.

Do I feel at all inspired to follow her example? If only...

My New Year's Language Resolutions

I have a confession to make: I ain't got any. What I do have instead is a loose plan... or maybe it's more of a project. I want to give my Portuguese a kick up the butt. It feels like I've been hovering at the threshold between upper intermediate and advanced forever and ever and what it needs now is a concerted push. I love that language.

To this end, I'll be spending virtually the entire month of March in Lisbon. I've booked myself into a language school to do an "extensive" course. Extensive as opposed to intensive - this means an hour and a half of classes two to three times a week. I'll be staying with someone who works at the school, so I should be able to get some conversation practice in a domestic setting, which is hard to come by in a classroom or when reading books.

I do have another agenda for this trip: I really like Lisbon and I'm considering re-locating there. So, this is going to be a bit of a recon mission, if you will. I've been to Lisbon only twice, and for very short durations. I have a couple of acquaintances there, but no "friends", no network. Nor do I know much about the "language scene" there. I've done a few web searches which haven't come up with anything useful, like book clubs or groups of people who meet up to practice languages. I'm thinking, though, that these must surely exist in a capital city. So, I'll have my research cut out when I get to Lisbon!