People often ask me – and sometimes I ask myself – why I am
studying languages. And, specifically, why Korean; I rarely get “Why Spanish?”. I can sometimes sense my
choice to study Korean being regarded as pointless and even self-indulgent, despite
the important geographical and business link between Australia and South Korea,
and the huge Korean population living in Sydney. But that’s a discussion for
another day. I have already briefly explained my language-learning journey, but
basically, let’s just say I was a late-bloomer. If it hadn't been for my French
and Latin teachers telling me I had a flair for languages, I wouldn't have even
continued past Year 7. What can I say, I'm a sucker for flattery.
Usually, people discover and develop their passion at an
early age. You rarely hear of a writer, musician, chef or athlete who weren't
well on their way to success or at least proficiency by their teens. So why, as
a monolingual 19 year old with only Latin and a smattering of Hindi and Spanish
under my belt, did I decide to study a Bachelor of Languages? I'm still not
sure if, career-wise, it will lead anywhere, and I fully accept that in a world
so full of multilinguals, I am unlikely to ever work in translation or
interpretation. I had this harsh but necessary wake-up call in my first year of
uni when a Korean friend, also curious as to why I was learning Korean, pointed
out that I would never be as fluent and therefore qualified as the tens of thousands
of bilingual Korean-Australians. Perhaps it's not as simple as that, but essentially, he’s right.
But back to the question; why learn languages? You see, there are two lines of follow-up. If I'm learning languages as skills, why bother so
late in the game? Or why bother at all: doesn't the whole world speak English
now anyway? And if I'm learning as a hobby, why waste my time and money
doing it in university?
This last question, to be fair, is something which I suspect
many Arts students hear on a regular basis. As more and more people receive
higher education, and the job market becomes increasingly competitive, the idea
of ‘learning for learning’s sake’ is considered outdated and unviable. In a
society where money and success are valued over knowledge, it's understandable that
tertiary education is viewed as a means to an end (that end being, of course, a
steady income). I'm surrounded by friends doing career-oriented degrees such as
engineering, pharmacy, and teaching, and when I compare my degree to theirs, I'll admit, I do feel a bit directionless. I can't even claim any great love for my
Spanish or Korean courses; I'm spending a lot of time and money on what
essentially amounts to 3 contact hours each per week with unenthusiastic
teachers and English-speaking classmates, time and money which could have been used to fly to a Spain or
South Korea, if bilingualism was really all I cared about. This is where
Linguistics plays a big part, as that is a subject I really would have
struggled to study outside of uni. The courses at Usyd are excellent, run by
teachers who make learning a pure joy. I enjoy the classes, readings, and even
(sometimes especially!) the homework. (Sorry guys, you already knew I was a
nerd!) Studying what I love at university means that, even if I don’t end up incorporating
it into my career – although I hope I do! – I'm building the foundations for what I know will be a life-long interest.
So that’s the hobby, follow-my-passion, Arts-student side of
things. Then there’s the idea of language as a practical and useful skill, like
being able to ski, bake a cake, or do algebra. Time and time again I hear
“Spanish gives you so many countries”, “Latin is a dead language”, or “Everyone
speaks English anyway”. But these statements assume that the relevance of
learning a language depends on how many countries and people it puts you in
contact with, the objective therefore being to cover the most surface area. This
is so entirely missing the point! OK, obviously if you are overseas or otherwise
trying to communicate with someone who doesn't speak your language, the sheer
ability to speak theirs, or a lingua
franca like English (providing they speak it too), will make life a whole lot
easier, logistically-speaking. However that shouldn't be the only motivation
for learning a language; they are not just tools of communication. Although I
probably sound like a broken record by now, I swear, languages are windows to cultures. I wholeheartedly believe that
whether you’re a linguist or not, learning a bit of – or even about – the local language can do
nothing but enhance your travel experiences and relationships. We all know that
people appreciate the efforts of tourists who try to learn a few key phrases,
but I think many underestimate just how positive an effect it can have on us too.
Language also reveals and even influences peoples' ways of
thinking and viewing the world. Not all concepts and ideas are translatable,
and what one person might consider an essential, simple concept that 'surely
everyone must have', another might not even have a way of expressing and
therefore understanding it. If you don’t believe me, read a little about colour
words in languages. Although the topic provokes some debate, it's an easy
example of how intrinsically linked language and thought are. By attempting to
understand these different ways of conceptualising and understanding the world,
we open our minds to new ideas, concepts, values, and cultural behaviours. Languages
exercise your brain, take incredible persistence, and confront you with your
own ethnocentrism.
Also, although the spread of English may be inevitable, the more we resist it, the greater chance we have of saving languages from extinction. If you consider how vital language is in transmitting and reflecting culture and ideas, can you imagine how devastating it would be to have your own language – your unique way of seeing and expressing the world – become extinct, considered 'redundant'? I can't even begin to understand what these communities – many of which are in Australia itself (check out the Ethnologue for exact figures, it's mind-boggling), and have fascinating linguistic features – must go through when their language dies. The more globalised we become, the less diverse. Does anyone seriously want the whole world to speak the same language? Personally, I can't imagine anything more dull.
Also, although the spread of English may be inevitable, the more we resist it, the greater chance we have of saving languages from extinction. If you consider how vital language is in transmitting and reflecting culture and ideas, can you imagine how devastating it would be to have your own language – your unique way of seeing and expressing the world – become extinct, considered 'redundant'? I can't even begin to understand what these communities – many of which are in Australia itself (check out the Ethnologue for exact figures, it's mind-boggling), and have fascinating linguistic features – must go through when their language dies. The more globalised we become, the less diverse. Does anyone seriously want the whole world to speak the same language? Personally, I can't imagine anything more dull.
If the only benefit you see in learning languages is to
break down communication barriers, then my only proper success would be Spanish, as it is the only language – asides
from English, of course – in which I am able to converse with
relative ease. However I don’t regret any of the time I spent learning or even just
researching other languages. Why does it always have to be so all-or-nothing, and
why is the only question that seems to matter “How many languages do you speak?”? So many of my language-related experiences remain with me still as precious memories or important lessons: my Hindi lessons with Pintu-Ji in Varanasi, which led to being able to
confidently haggle and joke with rickshaw drivers, being invited into our
neighbours’ homes and fed samosas, and many hours in the kitchen learning tricks from the elderly women who cooked at our school; all the exciting sociolinguistics I learnt in first year uni, which led me to discover the world of linguistics; understanding and abiding
by (or trying to!) Korean customs and social norms during my time in Seoul,
thanks to the ‘Cultural notes’ section of my textbook; my linguistics project
on Singlish, for which I even carried out my own experiment; and even those six supposed 'wasted' years spent learning a dead language, ie. Latin, which demonstrated to
me how beautifully complex and fun language can be, its intricate grammar like
a code or maths problem waiting to be solved. Does it matter that these languages
come and go, and that I still basically consider myself monolingual? I think not.
For me, my passion for languages and linguistics lies
somewhere between hobby and skill. It's both academic and practical,
independent and interactive, fun and challenging. The more I learn, the more I
understand other people and cultures, on a quite literal, communicative level,
but also in terms of understanding how they see the world. More than anything,
I study to broaden my mind to new concepts and ways of thinking, and to learn
all that these 'windows' have to offer.
“el/la sujetavelas” / “third
wheel”, although literally, “candle holder”... I think?! – I just love that Spanish has this concept, same as English, but expresses it using different imagery. (Now I'm suddenly curious as to what it is in other languages... let me know below.) Anyway, I've been searching online and asking my housemates for the literal explanation, but came up with nothing... could it refer to the old days when couples were chaperoned, and perhaps that chaperon stood between the two carrying a candle? Again, if you know, please enlighten me!
"hacer ranitas" / "To skip stones", although literally something like, "to make little frogs" – Isn't that a poetic way of describing it? During my Easter at my friend Álvaro's property in Extremadura, I spent one or two afternoons with his family and family friends, hanging out by the lake. We would chat, play with the remote-control sailboats, skip stones, and ride the quad bikes around. I made a corona de margaritas (daisy crown) and life was good.
"Mejor solo/a que mal acompañado/a" / "Better alone than in bad company" – This is a saying I learnt in
el aula de Monte Esquinza (the
classroom of Monte Esquinza, ie. my kitchen). This is the place where I chat with my housemates the most, and as such learn a lot of 'real Spanish'. Initially I thought I should keep note of everything new in my little book, but that was quite overwhelming, so I've learnt now to just listen, ask questions, and let the new words sink in naturally. Every now and again though I learn a new idiom or saying which I just need to write down, so for that I put a little whiteboard on the fridge. This particular saying came up in a conversation about the benefits of travelling alone, but I think it could be applied to many aspects of life.
"Se enrolla como una persiana" / literally "To roll up like a Venetian blind"?? – I’m not really sure how to
translate this one, but I love it! It’s a gem of a phrase I learnt from my funny, kind-hearted Spanish
teacher, Beatriz. It basically refers to someone who talks too much when telling stories or explaining something, going on and on and adding unnecessary details. I knew I had to remember it as it seems to be a common infliction in my family – and I'm one of the culprits, as you can see!
After such a long hiatus, I of course have many more new phrases, but I think this post is already more than long enough so... ¡hasta luego!
After such a long hiatus, I of course have many more new phrases, but I think this post is already more than long enough so... ¡hasta luego!
Gorgeous, gorgeous Asturias in the north of Spain <3 |
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