“Spanish today. The world tomorrow”--Rosetta Stone
We've all heard the joke:
Q: What do you call someone who speaks three languages?
A: Tri-lingual
Q: What do you call someone who speaks two languages?
A: Bi-lingual
Q: What do you call someone who speaks one language?
A: American
Yeah, this isn’t going to be one of my prouder Camino Countdowns. It’s been a full year since I made the decision to walk the 500-mile Camino de Santiago. A full year knowing that it’s in Spain. And that people in Spain speak...well, Spanish.
I’ve been humming along, telling you about the history and the blisters and the beautiful sights. By now, you’ve probably noticed that I have made no reference to how the heck I’m going to communicate with the people who are my hosts or walking companions during the journey.
Here was my plan: Rosetta Stone. Sure, I tried it before I went to Turkey a few years back. At the time, it confounded me. Not the format--that’s totally cool. Lots of diversity photos, easy to maneuver, fun to do. But really, right off the bat, I needed to learn that “the black horse is running”?? I can’t think of one single time in my life when I’ve ever had to say that. To learn it in Turkish seemed ridiculous.
Fast forward five years. Surely, there have been advances in Rosetta Stone...it costs a lot more, so it must be better. (More I$ better, right?) I plunk down several hundred dollars for the complete set. All the levels. I'm confidenta that by the time I hit Pamplona, I’m going to be fluent. A few minutes a day, the Rosetta folks assure me.
I download the program, hook up the headset. Off I go...
Two lessons in, I may as well be learning Turkish. “The black horse is running.” “The people are swimming.” “The car is yellow.” I’m sure that, given enough time and experience in this lifetime, I might have cause to spout those phrases. But right now, I’m kinda focused on the basics:
- Where is the toilet?
- I’m lost.
- How far to the next village?
- Wine?
All over the world, there are things that foreigners want to learn how to say. We figure out the “please” and “thank you” quickly. We want to be courteous, and after that, we a]want to know where to eat, sleep, and pee. Is that too much to ask?
Millions of people spend millions of dollars on Rosetta Stone. I’m sure, back at headquarters, smart and ambitious minds are crafting ways that will make us all able to communicate, no matter where we go. Kiosks at airports assure us that we’ll be speaking like a native in a matter of hours. That is, f we want to thrill the locals with our ability to let them know that the “the girls are reading” or “three bicycles are red.”
I want to learn Spanish, I really do. Specifically, the version spoken in Spain, Castellano. (It’s like learning British English versus American English--differences in accent and pronunciations.) But I’m flummoxed over the lesson choices in helping me get along during my travels. As of today, here are the verbs I know: read, run, swim, cook, and walk. Not exactly handy-dandy in the real world. My nouns: boy, girl, man, woman, car, bicycle, horse, dog, fish, and apple. Toss in a few colors to spice things up. I dare you to make a useful sentence out of those. The smartest person in the world comes off as an idiot.
All is not lost. I know French, so I can get by--after all, Spain and France are neighbors. And a few years back,when I was still in Chicago. I took Spanish at a community college.I was trying to get ahead of the curve, with a 50% Spanish-speaking population anticipated in the near Chicago future. I loved it: simple sentence structure, consistent pronunciation. Lots of cognates. Few of the crazy “rules” of English. Olé!
One glitch: French that I didn’t know I remembered came bubbling up. Words, idioms, grammar spurted forth. I’d open my mouth, fully intending to say something in perfect Español...and French would come out. I couldn’t explain it. At one point, my frustrated Spanish instructor said, “Señora, this IS a Spanish class.” “Lo siento,” I would murmur.
There you go. In three months, I head to Spain. With two Spanish lessons. If I do the cost-calculation thing, that’s about $200 a lesson. Maybe I’ll knock off a couple more before I head out. The thing is, I’m not particularly stressed by my lack of language. Maybe that’s part of the experience--to communicate in simple ways. I’m not walking the Camino to discuss the latest fashion trends. It’s all personal. Maybe being language-restricted will help me focus more on what I see and what I feel.
But, if I need to, I can ask the location of a blue apple: ¿Dónde está la manzana azul?
Easy-peasy.
Have you listened to the coffee break Spanish podcast. Or tried an italki.com teacher?
Posted by: Marion Vermazen | 06/06/2014 at 10:02 PM