There is a time in life when some of us realize that we are different. A time when words find a deeper meaning in our minds because we hear them as more than one word. It is a time when we realize that we understand and speak things perfectly in two different languages. This happened to me when I was 13 and it was confusing! There were times when someone would ask me a question and my mind would go into a panic. Were they talking to me in English or Spanish? Sometimes, without wanting to, I would answer in the wrong language. The person I was talking to would frown, put on a tight smile and ask: "What did you say dear?" Then I'd feel my face go hot all over. It was usually no good trying to explain what a jumble my mind was in. And it was no good trying to convince them that I wasn't showing off.
A lot of times, without realizing it, bilingual people create their own language. If they can't find the word for something in one language then they throw in the word for it in the other. I plead guilty of this. Many of my sentences run like this: "Miguel couldn't find the pandero so Chio didn't play tonight." And of course, unless the person I'm talking to knows what a pandero is, their face shows one big blank and I have to rack my brain for the right word.
Growing up bilingual can be confusing, but it can also have its advantages and laughs. I love walking into a Wal-Mart where the majority of the people are speaking Spanish. I feel guilty sometimes, like I'm some sort of spy, but I also feel a certain kind of power...and it's so much fun! I understand everything and no one knows that I do! I also love the times that I walk up to some unsuspecting someone and start jabbering away in Spanish. They look at my blond hair and blue eyes incredulously, ask a few questions, and then look partly amazed, partly impressed, and quite confused.
When I was seventeen I went to a summer camp. It made me realize just how normal it has become for me to speak two languages. I take it for granted. But the kids around me thought I was something special. I became some kind of hero or celebrity in their eyes. And while it was nice to feel so important, in the end it was still nothing incredible to me to speak two languages. It's a part of me. I am who I am. I've grown up bilingual and I wouldn't have it any other way...even if it meant I could think more clearly!
Ok, I love love love the part about seeing a clothing item and just knowing what it is but having no recollection of what it's called! haha
ReplyDeleteand the overhearing/spy part. So great :D
So I have a story to tell with this...
It was on one of my spring break mission trips down to Mexico. One of my friends that I had been hanging out that week while we were down there had been adopted from Lesotho,Africa just a few years back. This happened a few times, that we'd be talking, and all of a sudden she started talking in her native tongue. Her mind got all confused because everyone else was speaking in a foreign language (the Mexicans) and so in her mind it made sense that she spoke in hers! Haha They were epic moments of confusion...
I love how you explain this. I never knew enough Spanish to get confused. I could see how hopping back and forth between two languages could be tricky. So my question is, what language do you think in?
ReplyDeleteMrs. Vik - glad you enjoyed it! Haha, I have been asked that before and I think the best answer is both. If I'm in the U.S. I tend to think more in English because of replaying conversations, thinking of what I will say, sermons, etc. If I'm in Mexico, I tend to think more in Spanish or both are equal!:P It is interesting sometimes...
ReplyDeleteLikey like :)
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