Okay, so I’m a bit flustered - I just used my new language skills to order noncarbonated water and was told flat by the waitress that she couldn’t understand because she doesn’t speak English. I was confused because I was sure I had said it in Ukranian, and because I have practiced the trm many times in class. Again, I said what sounds like “vadda bez hazzo, bude-laska” (water without gas please), only to be met with blank stares and nervous giggles. Considering today was my graduation from the course “Survival Ukranian,” I am a bit flustered. After all, water is key to survival.
This brings me to the topic of this blog: life with the infamous ‘Language Barrier.’ Welcome.
It’s a life of crossing your fingers when choosing from a menue and of hoping a smile can get you through. It’s a time of failed attempts and small victories; of listening and observing; and of balancing dependence with risk taking. Mostly, though, it’s a lesson in going with the flow.
The reason I have sat down to write this blog is a perfect example. After another exciting and unpredictable afternoon at school – our activities range from beading to singing, dancing, hanging out in zorbs or taking a stroll downtown – I made my way home. When I got there, the door was locked and no one answered. I’m pretty sure (as sure as I can considering the circumstances) that the family I am living with only has one key since I was refused when I asked for one. The door is usually locked from the inside but the mom of the house is usually home so there’s no issue. Today was another storey . . .
I had spend the afternoon in the park with my tutors and classmates, but came home early to try to go for a run before dark. However, I arrived at a locked door with no signs of civilization. Surprises like this don’t bother me too much because I don’t really have any deadlines to meet and because they’re pretty typical. I’m not sure if it’s the culture of waiting and doing whatever, whenever or if it’s the lack of communication but there’s some kind of blockage for messages like “We won’t be home tonight.” Anyway, thirsty and annoyed but not flustered or upset, I made my way to a nearby café to wait. This is where my failed attempt at ordering took place.
Because I wasn’t understood when I ordered what I have always asked for, and because I needed to totally rely on charades and a random English speaker even after my catch-all course, I wonder what the actual hope of survival is for me this summer. I’m sure I’ll be able to get by when I have time to think, show and observe my surroundings, but what if I need to say something quickly? With my vocabulary limited to small-talk, will I ever actually get to know my billets or neighbours?
I know that learning a language takes time and that I have made progress but I am wondering if I am progressing as well as I should/could be. Everyone learns differently so I realize that I should be okay with going at my own pace but it feels pretty darn slow! In class, I felt like the way I was taught was not at all the way I learn so I ended up going home and re-doing the lesson to try to understand it better. Out of class I sometimes feel mute and deaf while other times I feel a toddler trying to get to know the world. On the bright side, what began nothing more than an array of sounds coming out of people’s mouths is turning into a pattern of recognizable words. I am really happy to be picking up the words I do because it’s proof that, whatever the rate, I am progressing. Thank goodness!
I also worry about my language development because I know I have a lot of patience for being misunderstood. I tend to think differently than most people, which works as an advantage as long as I can explain myself. Explaining a thought takes a lot more work here so, in order to avoid exhaustion and arguments every time I have a different perspective, I am okay with accommodating and being misunderstood. In Ukraine
I feel like I am destined to be a listener because I want to understand even more than I yearn to speak.
Whatever the case, I think the key to survival here – besides water and other physical necessities – is to live in the moment. As an English-speaking student in Ukraine
One thing is for sure: I have a new appreciation of language’s role in communication since not understanding a language has made me more interested in my own. This experience has also made me think of the importance of communication in learning styles and helped me to better understand the difficulties people have when they are isolated with a disability. I hope I can keep these lessons to share with others when they are encountering similarly difficult times.
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