Können Sie Deutsch oder irgend eine andere Sprache als Englisch?

If you can read and translate that headline without using a dictionary or Google Translator, congratulations!

Today, the Washington Post is running a story about a debate going on in the Fairfax County School District over foreign language courses and whether early secondary language acquisition is "fundamental or a frill." In tight economic times, languages and the arts are generally the first to go. (Meanwhile, over at the Pentagon, they continue to have all the guns and bombs and WMD they need without holding a single bake sale or being accountable to the American taxpayer. But I stray.)

As an American living overseas, I'm a strong proponent of language acquisition for a few reasons.

1. While many in the world, particularly in Europe and South East Asia, can speak English, that doesn't mean we shouldn't speak other languages.

2. Many in the world can speak English. And French. And Spanish. And Chinese. At the organization where I work, many documents and nearly all high-level meetings are held in what are known as "The Six Official Languages": English, French, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, and Mandarin Chinese. Most of the people I work with speak not only their own mother tongue, but also English, French, and one or two other languages.

3. I am constantly asked, as an American, why Americans aren't language proficient. We're often perceived as insular and uneducated, because we can't function outside of English and we come across as pushy, rude, impatient, and disgusted that others would actually deign to speak their own language and not ours! Our continual insistence that others speak English is sometimes seen as a way to compensate for our boorish lack of ability or willingness to make an effort. (Sorry to seem so harsh, but there you have it.)

4. Learning another language opens your eyes to the world around you and teaches you that the American way of seeing or doing things isn't the only way, or even the right way, of seeing and doing things. I'm not suggesting that learning French (or any other language, for that matter) will cause you to suddenly become a socialist or a political philosopher, but it will open you to a whole new way of thinking and being.

5. It's never too early to learn a language. Even as the world becomes more of a global village and less of a collection of nationalist rants, the fact is some nations will remain more powerful than others. And I'm not talking about the United States here, folks. My prediction is that Mandarin Chinese, along with English, will become the lingua franca of the world by the end of this century. My suggestion: get ahead of the curve and learn Chinese now. Otherwise, we'll really be left in the dust.

*****

I'm glad I have some foreign language skills. It's nice to be able to walk into a store in Switzerland, pick up a package or an item and know what it is because the label is printed in German, French, and Italian. I'm literate in German, so I'm empowered.

In France, I often feel lost, because everything is in French. In France, I often feel and am functionally illiterate. It's not a good feeling. But it's one that has given me a whole new perspective on the immigrant experience in the United States. Yes, immigrants need to learn English, but cut 'em a little slack. It's overwhelming and takes time.

If I stay through next year, which is looking likely, I am determined to learn enough French to be able to read the labels at the grocery stores in France, ask for directions, and order off of a menu without then turning to a friend for a translation of the waiter's question regarding my water: Do I want it with or without gas?

*****

Despite my obvious and painful lack of French language ability, I do make an effort to speak French when I interact with the French. I don't insist on English and, while I don't outright apologize for my inability to speak their language, I do try to be humble about it. The result is, through a bit of sign language and broken bits of English and some scattered French here and there, I end up with what I need. Ultimately, I am always grateful for their help and they're generally always glad to assist.

But that's still no excuse. Learning French is, for me, a must! And speaking German, when I'm in places where German is spoken, is practically an absolute. I'm in their country. I'm going to speak their language.

Maybe I'm an elitist, socialist, intellectual snob (I've been called worse things) and maybe I'm not making myself very clear here, but seeing the world through another language is enjoyable and humbling. It also earns me Brownie points with my colleagues, when I can show I'm able to step outside my nationalist context and be comfortable as a citizen of the world.

*****

One thing I have learned: be careful where you use your language skills.

As I am interacting and working in French-speaking Switzerland, I often ask the Swiss "Parle vous Anglais?" If they say no, I ask, "Können Sie Deutsch?" The Swiss know one or the other or both, because they're required to learn their regional language and at least one of the other three official languages of Switzerland. English is generally a given, as well.

Asking a Swiss citizen, "Können Sie Deutsch?" is totally appropriate and is never met with incredulity or disgust.

The same is not an option in France. But sometimes you have to be stupid, like me, and learn this the hard way.

On a few occasions, when I've asked French people if they can speak English and I'm told "no", I've innocuously followed it up with "Können Sie Deutsch?"

This, my friends, is a mistake. They won't say as much, because the French are diplomatic. What they will do is give you a very firm "no" and then look at you in a way that says, "You stupid idiot. Of course we don't speak German! Would you speak German if your country had spent the last several centuries being repeatedly invaded by the German's?! Not speaking German is a point of national pride."

The only place where German is spoken in France is the Alsace-Lorraine. It's okay to speak German there. Otherwise, ixnay on on the ermanjay! I'm just sayin'...

*****

All of that said, here's my advice to Fairfax County, if anyone is listening. Language acquisition is not a frill and it should be as fundamental as math, science, the arts, and English. It can be, and is, a key component in making us well-rounded, articulate citizens not only in our own country, but in the world.

*****

Alles Gute und schönen Tag noch! Auf Weidersehen!

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 06/09, Winstub du Sommelier, Bergheim, France.

Exhausted. Or, Why Can't Communicating Be Easier.

Today, Emm and I went to Lausanne to have lunch with her father's relatives. Even under the best of circumstances, visiting family can require energy and being on one's best behavior. When we visit Emm's family, though, it requires colossal efforts in language, which can sap you to the core. Here's why:

Our hosts, Anna-Maria and Paul speak French, German, Italian, and English.

Anna-Maria's sister, Marie-Angela, speaks Italian, French, and English and her brother-in-law, Pietro, speaks Italian and French.

Emm and I speak English and German and Emm understands some Italian.

Paul is sitting to my left and Pietro is across from me. Emm is on my right. To Emm's right is Anna-Maria and across from her is Marie-Angela.

Paul's preferred language when we're around is German, which neither Marie-Angela nor Pietro speak. When conversing with Anna-Maria and Marie-Angela, the language of choice is English, which Pietro understands, but can't speak.

At some point in all of the conversing, I exchange thoughts and pleasantries with Anna-Maria in English, German, and a tiny, pathetic smattering of French.

Meanwhile, Emm is trying to converse with Pietro in English, while Paul keeps talking in German. This requires back and forth translations between the three with Emm talking in English and German, Paul talking in German and Italian, and Pietro talking in Italian and French.

Wars have been started over this stuff, people! And yet, a very fine time was had by all. We both enjoyed lunch with the relatives and visiting Lausanne, but Lordy what I wouldn't give for one of those Universal Translator thingamadoujies from Star Trek!

Photo source: Google Images.

Dairy Yen. Or, How I am Slaughtering French One Word at a Time.

So the lingua franca around these parts is French. It's one of the six official languages of the organization where I work. It's one of the four official languages of Switzerland. And, it's the primary language of the country in which I'm living. That's all well and good, but I don't speak French.

I speak English.

I speak German.

I do not speak French.

Okay, that's a tiny bit of a lie. I speak about 15 words of French. The rest of my French--about five more words--I speak very badly. I'm intentional in that. It's the only way to be forgiven my transgression of not actually speaking the language of Voltaire and De Tocqueville and all those other brainy, democratic French folk.*

In fact, because my minimalist French is intentionally bad, it's a source of great humor to my French-born colleagues and friends.

For example, the other day, the production editor of a weekly report emailed me some bit of information about an available publication slot for an upcoming article. She thanked me for my help liaising with contributing authors. In reply to her, and knowing full well that she's 100% French,** I wrote:

Dairy Yen

JMT

A couple of hours later, I got a phone call from the production editor. As I picked up the phone and said, "This is Jay," my salutation was met with fits of laughter. Finally catching her breath, the production editor said to me, "Eye finolly feegured eet out!"***

"What's that?" I asked.

"Dairy yen," she said. "I kept reading zat over and over and I didn't geet eet. Zen I said eet out-loud--dairy yen--and I goot eet! So foony!"

We enjoyed a good laugh together and then we rang off. The rest of the week, every time the production editor saw me, she'd giggle and say, "Dairy yen."

I can't make heads or tails of French as it's spelled. Phonetically, though, I have a perfect grasp of it. Hence, de rien--French for "You're welcome"--comes out dairy yen.****

Makes sense to me.

Ah-ree-vor, mez-a-meeees!*****

* It should be noted that I'm actually not one of those Americans who slaughters languages with bad pronunciation and hopeless accents. Because I'm partially deaf, I have a propensity for mimicry. Ergo, I can do a decent British, Irish, and Scottish accent and my German aussprache is strong. The same is true with what little French I know. I can pronounce it correctly and I sound like I know how to speak French. But that's the rub: I can't.

** Although, that's questionable. Said production editor is from Alsace-Lorraine. That poor little slice of Europe has changed hands so many times and gone back and forth between the French and Germans so often, I know people who change their underwear less frequently than the Alsace-Lorraine has changed borders.

*** For future reference, I won't write out French dialogue in bad French accents. That's an insult to my French friends. Besides, their English is starting to sound normal to me and English/American English is sounding odd.

**** I make sure to say it with the worst possible American accent I can muster. That way, it's clear that I'm a) mocking my own people and b) mocking my own lack of French-speaking ability.

***** Update: Corrected to reflect JaneAnne's comment.

Okay Then. Now What?

So, I've been in Europe now for a little over four months. I enjoy the organization where I'm working and the people with whom I work. It's a big organization and part of a larger body of organizations that are doing good in the world. Sometimes, though, I think because of the size of the organization certain procedures get lost and are egregiously after-the-fact. I'm not saying this makes the organization a bad place to work, but it certainly makes it amusing.

Case in point: when I arrived, I expected there might be some kind of new employee orientation program. It's possible that because I am here as a contractor such a function does not exist, since it would be silly or an inefficient use of time and resources to orientate a contractor who might only be here a few weeks or months.¹

So today, I get a group email from one of our support service offices telling me that as a new employee I can take advantage of training and support provided by the IT department. The email welcomes me to the organization and recommends that I take the new employee orientation program to learn how to use my email mailbox.²

It then goes on to describe³ the orientation class for new staff and says,

"Our orientation classes are a program made up of three progressive steps. The steps are designed to cover information and topics most useful to staff in their first few months at the organization. These courses are held on a regular basis. In the past, new staff have told us that they regretted not registering for these classes shortly after arriving at the organization.⁴ To learn more and to register, please click here."

So, I click on the link provided and end up on a page that says this:

Introduction Program for New Staff, Part I

FOR THE TIME BEING, THERE ARE NO PLANS TO HOLD ANY INTRODUCTORY SESSIONS IN VIEW OF THE TRAINING ROLLOUT FOR OUR FINANCIAL AND AUDITING SYSTEM. The primary goal of the introductory class is to provide new staff with an overview of the work and functions of the organization.


So much for not having any regrets.


1. Hell, I can't even get one of the official, non-disposable drinking glasses that are issued to staff, because I'm a contractor. Whatever. I'm resourceful. I've just snagged a logo-less one from the cafeteria. Voila!
2. I've been here since May. It's now nearly October! If I haven't figured that out by now, I'm screwed. Besides, it's Microsoft Outlook. What's to learn?!
3. Text has been edited to protect the innocent! That would be me.
4. For some reason, a less-than-glowing review is often seen as an endorsement of how good a program is and why you should sign up. I don't know if this is a European thing or what, but I see stuff like this all the time. Sort of a reverse-psychology kind of thing. As an American accustomed to being assaulted by all the reasons why I should buy into something, this is sort of an odd take.


Photo copyright: Photo S.A.

In Which I Learn to Navigate in Three Languages, And None of Them Well

I've been in Geneva now for nearly a week. Still a little jet-lagged and trying to adapt to working in an office where air conditioning is not the norm. Plus, I don't speak French, so that's its own challenge. Still, I'm having a lovely time and am hoping this leads to a longer-term gig. All I know is, I don't want to blow this opportunity and I'm feeling a little gun shy from my last three jobs in D.C.--all of which did not end positively, but from which I learned a great deal.


Saturday, Dr. Lala and I (Dr. Lala's the friend I'm staying with in her home in the French countryside) went to the farmer's market in Geneva. I've seen some beautiful produce at markets when I lived in California, but this market put all those to shame. I found four varieties of radishes, five kinds of pineapple, three types of bananas, six kinds of strawberries, not to mention the countless varieties of mushrooms, artichokes, and aubergines to be had. Throw in a few cheese mongers and bread stands, as well as a couple of Basque butchers carving ham taken from pigs that are raised on nothing but black acorns, and you have a gastronome's heaven. And a photographer's, too!


Scattered throughout the fruit, vegetable, bread, cheese, and meat stands were flower vendors. Oh la la! The flowers, mon amis. The flowers. I spent a good fifteen minutes watching and photographing one couple who were working with the flower vendor to create a bouquet of roses and peonies and greenery that were stunning. But what struck me as much, if not more, than the flowers was the couple. I tried to photograph them in a way that captured the intimacy of their relationship without cluttering the picture with noise and busyness. I have to say, I think I'm kind of proud of the results.


I'm not going to write a lot here about where I work, except to say that what I'm doing is timely and collaborative and I'm enjoying it. The other day, I was in a meeting where only three of us were native English speakers. The rest of the participants were from Vietnam, Japan, Korea, Germany, Italy, The Netherlands, and France. What was exciting was watching all of these people from various cultures and languages work beyond their cultural differences and come together to do good for the people of the world. Pretty dang cool, if you ask me!


I'd love to send postcards to folks, but the damn things cost a fortune over here--CHF 1 or about $1.20/card. No thanks! To see more of what I'm seeing as I'm over here, visit D.C. Confidential.

Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 05/09