Lessons within Language Learning

This essay touches upon the language learning experience. Not conducting life in one's native tongue, inevitabley leads to some very interesting twists – to say in the least.

“Young breast wheel,” my colleague announced, as she read Google’s Thai-to-English translation of words from the computer screen – it struck me that her pronunciation might be a bit-off. I asked her to repeat, and again the nonsensical phrase “young breast wheel” was what I heard, and what I kept hearing because she continued to repeat it over and over, and louder and louder – completely unaware of the silly word combo – as I hurriedly crossed the room and came to her side. And wouldn’t you know it...
– “young breast wheel” is precisely what the translator most humorously said!!

Indeed. Words. Oh words. Those funny things, we call words. I have lived in Thailand for over ½ a year now, and do not even know the Thai-word for “words.” And here’s an interesting factoid about words, a national linguistic survey in the US showed that 5 million adults most frequently used words are: I, to, the, and, of, in, we, for, you, a, and so it comes as no surprise that I frequently find myself scrambling for these very missed and commonly uttered words, because all but the I, and, we and you clearly even translate into Thai language. And though I may sound like I’m bitching a bit (and I suppose I am just a tad), ultimately learning a second language is proving to be pretty cool deal. As language lessons aren’t just about learning new words to speak, but a new way to THINK. For there are just so many words that do not translate perfectly (or at all), and when there’s no translation, new concepts and understanding can be unveiled.

Another way of saying what I’m saying, and far more eloquently at that, is this touchy-feely quote passed along by a former Peace Corps volunteer friend:

Each human tongue is a distinct window onto the world. Looking through it, the native speaker enters an emotional and spiritual space, a framework of memory, a promontory on tomorrow, which no other window in the great house of Babel quite matches. Thus every language mirrors and generates a possible world, an alternative reality. 
- George Steiner

So, that all said about words and worlds and all, I’m glad to report I’m not suffering too terribly for lack of words here on this side of the world – my Thai communicato ability is steadily scaling the language barrier mounts. In addition to the intensive Peace Corps language training volunteers endured, there have been countless hours studying Thai language on my own, and in never before fathomed places – ranging from the backseats of Toyota pick-ups, SUV’s and Land-Rovers cruising across highways, byways and rice-fields (an eclectic collection of songs, such as YMCA and Bump-Your-Booty blaring on the speakers); to a hair salon run by very stylish cross-dresser beautician, who expressed definite interest in having my tall and handsome brother come for a visit; to picturesque gazebos with panoramic mountain views; and on ornate temple grounds up in the mountains. An interesting side-note about the latter is that the temple’s Abbot’s first words to me were, “you’re fat and have no waist”. And while such common uncensored remarks of the native Thailander’s tongue somewhat irk me, they also provide good motive to study so as to have quick/quirky come backs (my response on that particular occasion was, “yes, I’m fat because I am in Thailand and the food here is delicious” – not as witty as I would have liked, though I figure sufficient enough for talking back to a monk!)

Another instance that prompted me to study more was the rumor that: “The farang (foreign) girl fell into the canal and had to be rescued!” I did not fall into the irrigation canal, thank you very much. I merely slid myself into the beckoning cool water, on a wickedly hot sun-drenched day, and went for a leisurely swim with a friend. It just turned out that I needed a little “help” from a rope (not a rescue mission) to pull me out, as the cement walls were rather steep and slippery. However, because I did not know enough language for an explanation when I heard this rumor, it simply grew and grew in my tiny rural village the size of a small liberal arts college, and to this day – five months after the fact – there are still those that believe I fell into the canal.

Though, most fortunately such a tale of klutz-dom and inability to speak has not negatively impacted my reputation amongst the locals. After all, there are many ways to make an impression, aside from what one says. Not to brag (well, maybe just a little) I was recently referred to as “fairy-like” when paraded about, dressed head-to-toe in a traditional Thai pink silk suit, parasol in hand, stationed amongst little pre-school Thai princesses on the bed of a Toyota pick-up. I also have permanent “super-star” status as I was on the regional nightly news while all dressed up in a World’s Cup jersey, with soccer ball in one hand and a “Get Out to Vote” sign in the other, and again paraded about. Believe it or not, I’ve had strangers over 100 miles away recognize me on the street because of this TV debut!

I assure you, though, I’ve not let any of this go to my head, as there are plenty of moments to keep my ego in-check, ranging from language snafoos to cultural snafoos to just everyday Shelby snafoos. I once explained that my cell phone was broken by saying, “Phone physically ill.” I once sat at head-level with a monk – a HUGE no-no. And I once took a recommended short-cut across a cow pasture, ever so eloquently hitching myself over a brick wall to get in, and then not being able to find my way out. When I did stumble upon a person doing his laundry, I found myself not knowing enough words to explain why I was in his backyard, in a cow field, and in search of an exit! The next day I was shocked to learn that the cow farmer had recently purchased a new bull – horns and all – and thus the recommended short-cut had been an out-dated one, and this thoroughly explained why when I was climbing the wall a few onlookers had stared in utter perplexity (and maybe even said a warning or two that I hadn’t understood), and why the laundry fella (who after some discombobulating charades, had led me to an exit) was absolutely dumbstruck with my presence in the pasture. And, as embarrassing as it is to say, barbed-wire was shortly erected upon the brick wall – not to keep the bull in I’m sure, but to, “Keep the Shelby Out.”

Though isn’t it a funny thing, with rumors and snafoos and all, I apparently have learned enough language to take up a role in the community. I’ve been deemed an environmental consultant at the local government office, and I’ve been deemed Kruu (Teacher) Shelby in both the office and the schools – entrusted to use English lessons and clubs as a vehicle to teaching about environment, health, art, music, culture, etc. (I assure you though, I will not be teaching about canals or pastures!)

I never did fully decipher what my counterpart was trying to tell me during the “young breast wheel” episode. And as this essay portrays, there have certainly been a dime-a-dozen other instances where mistranslations, followed by misunderstandings have occurred. (I neglected to mention the very first night with in my homestay, nearly seven months ago, when my host-mother misinterpreted whatever it was I was asking, and proceeded to take off her shirt!! Very odd.)

Though, ultimately, these confusing, sometimes frustrating, often embarrassing times, are all part of the language learning process. A process that is not just about learning words, but also about learning the new concepts and new understandings from the translations of new words; about acquiring strategies and coping measures for the misunderstandings caused by mistranslation of words; about having awareness of what is said not just by words; about having patience for words that are left unsaid. That’s a mouthful, I know, but I think it makes sense.

And furthermore, I would venture to say it applies to all communication amongst us, whether spoken words or not, and whether foreign or not. For ironically enough, the most disturbing and troublesome misunderstanding(s) to date here in Thailand have sprouted from communication not with a native speaking Thai, but with none other then a fellow American. Go figure, eh?