"When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you."
(Ithaca, by Constantine P Cavafy)
When you start your journey to a new language, enjoy the process as much as the result. A new language is a magic route, a yellow brick road to worlds you thought you knew but that hold many a surprise for you. As with any journey worth of that name (not a trip, not a holiday and certainly not "a break") there will be stumbles and falls, sore knees, mysterious clues, unfriendly guides, steep mountains, sour lakes, moments, days, even months when you will wonder, quietly first, out loud later, if the whole darn thing is truly worth it. And I will tell you right now, before we go any further, that the answer is yes. Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes!
Later on we will talk about techniques and tips; about mental maps and the use of repetition. We will discuss the value -or not- of learning Peninsular Spanish or Latin American Spanish and whatever English-speakers have to bother with the whole thing in a global world where theirs is the lingua franca of the hour. But not today.
Today I will tell you a secret, which, for some odd reason isn't advertised in the countless language books that heave shelves across the world; a secret I experienced firsthand, and found uncovered in a chick flick, too full of sexual language to really recommend it to any student younger that 27. The book, called "Scruples" by Judith Krantz, tells the story of Billy, an overweight,awkward girl who blooms into beauty and life in Paris, and finds her true self not in the language of Shakespeare, but in the newly acquired language of Racine. To paraphrase Billy, in French she was never the fat girl, the pariah, the orphan, the poor relative everybody wondered what to do with.
You are not quite the same person when you communicate in another language; your tone of voice changes (mine becomes very soft when I speak in English); your speed, your inflection, your train of thought. Once you master a second (or third) language you make connections you would have never imagined before; your opinions are influenced not by one, but two cultures and world-views; you find logic in things that seemed silly before; you become more aware of your origins, of what you considered to be the natural response to a given situation. As you fall in love with a language and, inevitably, with the people who developed it, your mind opens to a myriad of possibilities. There is usually less judgement and more understanding. Like Billy, you have the opportunity to leave behind traits you have already outgrown and explore your full potential.
When you make new friends and relationships in your new language, you don't have the weight of the past over your shoulders. You can dare to develop some personality traits without having to explain why are you behaving this or that way. Nobody will ask why are you are less shy or more refrained or more communicative or more thoughtful. A new language provides, among other things, a rebirth of sorts. A reinvention. A second chance.
So start your journey into the unknown. Follow the siren song, unafraid. You may struggle a little or a lot, but you will not drown. Remember: our mistakes are teachers in disguise. Embrace them and learn.
