I studied German in high school and college. There was no good reason for me to do that at the time, but I’m glad I did. It’s certainly coming in handy now.
Even so, I wouldn’t say I’m doing as good a job of communicating as someone with three years of formal training ought to be.
But I’m trying. Because I know that if I don’t try, I’ll never learn. And if I try to learn only in the comfort of my own home, then we’ll all miss out on some amazing stories in the meantime.
My biggest problem is basic enough: I mix up words that sound similar. Like, for example, Gesicht, which is face, and Geschäft, which is store. Try as I may, I can’t keep them straight, which lead to an unbelievable exchange last week in which I asked a shop clerk if her face was open on Sunday.
That’s hardly an isolated incident. Schlüssel, keys, is not that much like sink, Spülbecken, but that didn’t stop me from walking into the bar and asking someone if I needed a sink to use the toilet.
Seriously, I could do this all day.
My first week in town, I was in a clothing store and a sales clerk complimented me on something or other. I didn’t know what she said, but I could tell that she was being nice by the way the words were said. I tried to return the favor, but I mixed up two of my go-to verbs: mögen and brauchen, like and need, respectively.
Long story short, I needed her shoes a lot.
Speaking of things I needed, the other day I asked a supermarket cashier if he needed his own signature on my credit card receipt. I caught that one though.
“MEINE Unterschifte,” I corrected myself as I wagged a finger at him. “Nicht DEINE.”
He laughed good-naturedly. Then added, “It’s actually Unterschrift.”
It’s obvious that I could use a bit more practice. How much, exactly, is hard to say – but I would guess that however much time I’m spending now, I should probably double it – and then do it more than that.
To add insult to injury, speaking in German seems to come more naturally when I’m in Spain. I guess that’s understandable. One of the side effects of ramping up in one language is that proficiency in all the others sometimes drops. I learned that the hard way when I arrived in Madrid and tried to order lunch.
The man behind the counter at the cafe unleashed a furious burst of Spanish, which, by way of context clues, I understood to mean “Please step down to the next register.”
This was a big problem, mostly because I had intended to point to the sandwich I wanted. Over at the second register, I could no longer easily do so. What’s more, I didn’t know what the sandwich I wanted was called. The only reasonable thing to do seemed to be to switch my order.
“Uno jamon bocadillo,” I said, hoping to walk away with a ham sandwich.
To my relief, the waitress repeated the words back to me in a different order and with slightly more pizazz. Then she followed up with a sentence I wasn’t expecting. I only caught two words – para jeavar, take away – which are part of my vocabulary because I order a lot of coffee.
“Here,” I said, my poor little brain quitting halfway through the translation job. “Aqui!” I added. “DANKE!” I blurted out.
The cashier nodded, not nearly as impressed with my attempt to be tri-lingual as I was.
“No bebida,” I added. The woman hadn’t asked if I wanted a drink, but sometimes I find it’s easier for everyone if I steer the conversation. “Solomente bocadillo,” I added, drawing an imaginary line in the air.
Even to me, it sounded like a threat. As though if this woman rang me up for a Diet Coke along with the ham sandwich, I would douse the place in gasoline and throw a match on my way out the door.
“Please sit down,” she said.
And I did. Before I hurt myself.
After lunch, I went into a boutique and tried on a leather jacket. As I was looking in the mirror outside the fitting room, the clerk, in Spanish, told me that it could be worn with pants or jeans, which, for the record, is something that is true of all jackets. Still, she was waiting for me to acknowledge this fact.
Not English, I reminded myself as I scrolled through my mental rolodex. Not German.
“OUI!” I said triumphantly.
“Oh!” the woman exclaimed, positively delighted. “Parlez vous francais?”
“God help me,” I muttered. “No merci!” I added.
Then I shut the fitting room curtain and took a good look in the mirror, half expecting steam to be pouring out of my ears.
If it’s interesting to think about how my mind works when I’m fighting for words, what happens when I’m not paying attention is even more curious. Half the time, when I give an absentminded response or greeting – a hello, yes, no, please, thank you – I find myself saying it Finnish, which is perhaps the worst language to default to. Even in Europe, I’m unlikely to find a person who understands a lick of Finnish. On the off chance they do, I still don’t. Kiitos, indeed. It’s false advertising at its finest.
Learning Finnish, by the way, has officially been put on hold. I’d love to say that I’ll turn back to it after I become proficient in German, but I can’t. Finnish is a language that’s so complex and unfamiliar that even Rosetta Stone won’t touch it. The total immersion method isn’t much help either. The Finns are so considerate that they immediately switch to English the second the other person struggles. Once in a while, I say, “I’m trying to learn,” and they give me a look that says, “Well we already did – so just speak English.”
Johann isn’t in much of a rush to help me along. I can understand his point. The prize for learning English should not be to teach other people Finnish. If it’s unfair for me to ask that of him, then it’s downright unreasonable to demand he do it in a grocery store where all of Helsinki can watch him shout “BREAD! BREAD! BREAD!” only to have me gallop off in search of a pot of fresh parsley.
One day, maybe I’ll become proficient in a second language. If I can’t do that, then I’ll settle for conversational. In the meantime, I’ll be happy with functional. Above all, I consider myself lucky to have English as my first.
***
In honour of March Madness, I’ve decided to play a little game. Below is a tournament-style list of travel destinations. In next week’s post, I’ll reveal which country was my winner – and count down some of my favourite places to visit. Want to play along? Fill out the below brackets and then leave a comment or email me with your winner. If your pick is the same as mine, you’ll get a special prize.
Please, please, please can we travel together some day and trip over our feet and words simultaneously?
Yes, yes, yes – of course! I don’t know where you live, actually… If I had to guess it would be somewhere in the South (though don’t hate me for that if I’m wrong). I actually LOVE southern road trips.
Better idea: we should organise a blogger meet up since I think we have a few blog friends in common and one of them has a magical farm in Canada full of goats that do yoga. We should ask if we can come hang out.
“OUI!” I said triumphantly.
ahahahaha – our brains are so similar!
I took 3 Spanish classes in preparation for a trip to Mexico a few years ago – also because I live in California and Spanish is the unofficial second language here.
And, arriving in Mexico, I was doing So Well – I had managed to convey what I wanted and have basic conversations!
Then I stopped in a little Chinese takeway place to pick up some lunch to take to the beach. And I got to the cashier – who was Chinese – who didn’t say much, just said the total – in spanish.
And my brain BROKE. All I wanted to say was “thank you” – but for some reason I could NOT wrap my head around this woman being fluent in Spanish – but I knew that I wasn’t supposed to use *english* – so my brain sputtered and stammered and I came out with “Merci beaucoup!”
The poor woman was SO confused. And rightly so.
I get it. I really do. It’s like my brain short-circuits every now and again. By the way, many of my travel stories end with the line, “And the poor woman was SO confused,” but I’m usually talking about myself. Thanks for stopping by!
This happens to me all the time.
It was worst when I returned form a month in China.
I got home and tended to just randomly talk in Chinese instead of my mother tongue (which actually happens to be German – so I totally get your struggle with mixing up different words!).
People just where freaked out!
Wish you so much luck with improving your German!!
I understand! Entiendo! Ich verstehe. All that jazz.
I get it, I really do. But I’m impressed that you can even speak Chinese. That’s no small feat… like Finnish, it’s so unrecognisable to me. Anyway – thanks for reading.
xx
When I lived in Germany, I once asked for sleeping cheese instead of sheeps. I currently live in Korea & am trying to learn the language. every time I travel, it takes at least two days before I switch to the correct language.
LOL. Oh I hear you… loud and clear.
I finally got the Spanish thing down – was calling up the Si! and Gracias! naturally. Of course, I was back in Helsinki by then…
Thanks for stopping by :)