Yesterday my daughter handed me a book of Czech nursery rhymes and asked me to read. Some of them are actually song lyrics; in fact maybe all of them are songs and some I just haven't heard before.
When I was finished reading one particular poem, the Slovak burst into song (because the poem was apparently a song I haven't heard before). Almost immediately K joined in, because she knew the song from preschool. It is hard to explain, but I had this moment of complete dissonance looking at them, realizing that they share a culture that I don't.
It makes me proud (that my girl knows her father's culture, knows lots of songs, can carry a tune...), but also makes me feel a little left out! It occurs to me that this must be how people feel when they don't speak the language of their spouse or one of their children's languages. I can't imagine feeling like this all the time...
Guess I need to brush up on my lidovky [folk songs]. :)
Showing posts with label parental languages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parental languages. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Friday, March 15, 2013
What Multilingualism Really Looks Like
We have a system. To successfully pass on your languages it is really best to have a system, and our system works.
But it's also important to be flexible, okay, and that is how I'm explaining how we found ourselves in the following situation this week:
Apo reading a book in English to K on one couch while I read a book in Slovak to M on the other.
That's what multilingualism looks like in our house!
***
Apo and I also spontaneously forgot how to speak our own languages while out on a walk last week: I spoke to K in Czech and claimed to know no English while Apo insisted he actually ONLY spoke English. Gave K a big fit of the giggles.
***
This week K picked up a book and started reading. She read several words / a sentence or two out of a couple of books, including from one Czech book. That was a little more challenging as I have been focusing on English only, so she didn't know how to sound out all the words - but she managed it. I told her that reading Czech is actually pretty easy compared to reading English, because each letter has only one sound.
Then I suggested that she find a Dr. Seuss book, as that might be easier to read. She got One Fish, Two Fish and read about 10 pages before I asked if she wanted to stop and finish later. "No!" she said, "I want to read it all! And then all of M's books and my books!"
Dr. Seuss is challenging but not impossible for her, since we have not had all the letter combinations and such from our 100 Lessons book. It is supposed to finish at about a 1st grade level, so I had planned to read Dr. Seuss after finishing the lesson book, but K had other ideas it seems.
Later that day she told me, "I can't believe I read that book on my own!!"
She has also started picking words to read out of chapter books (or my Kindle), such as HARRY POTTER or FARMER BOY (titles at the top of each page) from the books we were reading together, or finding some of the words she recognizes from her lessons. I think it is exciting for her to see that what she is learning in her lessons can be applied in the real world.
Then yesterday I read a Charlie and Lola book to K and M, the one where Lola is scared about starting school. After we finished, I said,
"Lola was nervous about going to school, wasn't she? Do you remember when you were nervous about starting big kid school?"
"Yeah, I was scared about it."
"Are you still scared about it or do you think it's going to be ok?"
"I think it's going to be ok now."
"Because you thought you couldn't learn to read. But you caaaaan!"
(self-satisfied nod and grin)
And THAT is why I'm teaching the child to read.
But it's also important to be flexible, okay, and that is how I'm explaining how we found ourselves in the following situation this week:
Apo reading a book in English to K on one couch while I read a book in Slovak to M on the other.
That's what multilingualism looks like in our house!
***
Apo and I also spontaneously forgot how to speak our own languages while out on a walk last week: I spoke to K in Czech and claimed to know no English while Apo insisted he actually ONLY spoke English. Gave K a big fit of the giggles.
***
This week K picked up a book and started reading. She read several words / a sentence or two out of a couple of books, including from one Czech book. That was a little more challenging as I have been focusing on English only, so she didn't know how to sound out all the words - but she managed it. I told her that reading Czech is actually pretty easy compared to reading English, because each letter has only one sound.
Then I suggested that she find a Dr. Seuss book, as that might be easier to read. She got One Fish, Two Fish and read about 10 pages before I asked if she wanted to stop and finish later. "No!" she said, "I want to read it all! And then all of M's books and my books!"
Dr. Seuss is challenging but not impossible for her, since we have not had all the letter combinations and such from our 100 Lessons book. It is supposed to finish at about a 1st grade level, so I had planned to read Dr. Seuss after finishing the lesson book, but K had other ideas it seems.
Later that day she told me, "I can't believe I read that book on my own!!"
She has also started picking words to read out of chapter books (or my Kindle), such as HARRY POTTER or FARMER BOY (titles at the top of each page) from the books we were reading together, or finding some of the words she recognizes from her lessons. I think it is exciting for her to see that what she is learning in her lessons can be applied in the real world.
Then yesterday I read a Charlie and Lola book to K and M, the one where Lola is scared about starting school. After we finished, I said,
"Lola was nervous about going to school, wasn't she? Do you remember when you were nervous about starting big kid school?"
"Yeah, I was scared about it."
"Are you still scared about it or do you think it's going to be ok?"
"I think it's going to be ok now."
"Because you thought you couldn't learn to read. But you caaaaan!"
(self-satisfied nod and grin)
And THAT is why I'm teaching the child to read.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Conversations, Circuses and Michaels
(K coughs)
Me: Stop that coughing, please.
K: I'm trying to stop but sometimes it just comes out.
Me: Well, please stop, because I don't like coughing.
K: (coughs)
Me: I believe I asked you to knock that off. (I pull out phone and make imaginary call to circus to arrange the sale of two disobedient young children)
K: You're just teasing me. You aren't really going to sell me to the circus.
Me: You think so? You know, when I was a little girl Grandmama told ME to stop coughing.
K: Did she sell you to the circus?
Me: No, she never had to, because when she told me to stop, I stopped.
As a bit of background to the above conversation, it is true that my mother used to tell me to stop coughing. Specifically it was "Knock it off!" and "You're just doing that for attention", and the whole family does it now.
And when K was a screamy baby, the Slovak and I amused ourselves by coming up with outlandish ideas for what to do with her if she didn't stop. One of our staples was selling her to the circus. We even wrote down the phone number from a circus poster and put it on our wall...for just in case.
Don't worry, though. We're not complete monsters. We made sure to stop that line of joking well before K was old enough to understand what we were saying, and now that she is old enough to judge when we are serious and when we aren't, it has started popping up in conversation again occasionally.
I like to think of that as Good Parenting.
***
Okay, I know I put this one on Facebook, but I have to put it here, too.
K: (Hungarian girl) speaks Czech now.
Me: Does she speak a lot of Czech or a little bit of Czech?
K: Medium. Like you.
Me: EXCUSE ME? I speak better Czech than you!
K: (looks offended)
And this from a person who can't say R! :)
***
Also, did I mention before that in the states she ate a lot of Michaels? We always eat plenty of bagels and cream cheese while we're there and K kept misremembering the word "bagel". So now the whole family enjoys an occasional Michael.
Me: Stop that coughing, please.
K: I'm trying to stop but sometimes it just comes out.
Me: Well, please stop, because I don't like coughing.
K: (coughs)
Me: I believe I asked you to knock that off. (I pull out phone and make imaginary call to circus to arrange the sale of two disobedient young children)
K: You're just teasing me. You aren't really going to sell me to the circus.
Me: You think so? You know, when I was a little girl Grandmama told ME to stop coughing.
K: Did she sell you to the circus?
Me: No, she never had to, because when she told me to stop, I stopped.
As a bit of background to the above conversation, it is true that my mother used to tell me to stop coughing. Specifically it was "Knock it off!" and "You're just doing that for attention", and the whole family does it now.
And when K was a screamy baby, the Slovak and I amused ourselves by coming up with outlandish ideas for what to do with her if she didn't stop. One of our staples was selling her to the circus. We even wrote down the phone number from a circus poster and put it on our wall...for just in case.
Don't worry, though. We're not complete monsters. We made sure to stop that line of joking well before K was old enough to understand what we were saying, and now that she is old enough to judge when we are serious and when we aren't, it has started popping up in conversation again occasionally.
I like to think of that as Good Parenting.
***
Okay, I know I put this one on Facebook, but I have to put it here, too.
K: (Hungarian girl) speaks Czech now.
Me: Does she speak a lot of Czech or a little bit of Czech?
K: Medium. Like you.
Me: EXCUSE ME? I speak better Czech than you!
K: (looks offended)
And this from a person who can't say R! :)
***
Also, did I mention before that in the states she ate a lot of Michaels? We always eat plenty of bagels and cream cheese while we're there and K kept misremembering the word "bagel". So now the whole family enjoys an occasional Michael.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Primitive and Sophisticated Languages
Okay, you know how people are always telling you that their language is more sophisticated than English, because English is so primitive? Primitive is, of course, defined as not having a complex case system. The truly bewildering set of verb tenses doesn't seem to count.
What, people never tell you that?
We clearly move in different circles.
This is what you say:
"You know, supposedly on a historical level languages are actually getting simpler over time...so if you think about it, that really means that English is more highly evolved."
Then watch the reaction.
I bring this up because the Slovak pulled this on me the other day, just trying to get a rise out of me. Sometimes that man will say anything!
The Slovak was just being silly, but the first time I had this conversation, with someone else several years ago, the person was totally not joking and totally did not like this idea. She also didn't like when I mentioned that to a native English speaker, it sounds "primitive" and caveman-like to speak without definite and indefinite articles (Slavic languages, at least the ones I'm familiar with, don't have them). It's all about perspective.
Whether the premise that languages are getting simpler over time is actually true is debatable, but it doesn't really matter. You have to fight pseudo-science with pseudo-science!
What, people never tell you that?
We clearly move in different circles.
This is what you say:
"You know, supposedly on a historical level languages are actually getting simpler over time...so if you think about it, that really means that English is more highly evolved."
Then watch the reaction.
I bring this up because the Slovak pulled this on me the other day, just trying to get a rise out of me. Sometimes that man will say anything!
The Slovak was just being silly, but the first time I had this conversation, with someone else several years ago, the person was totally not joking and totally did not like this idea. She also didn't like when I mentioned that to a native English speaker, it sounds "primitive" and caveman-like to speak without definite and indefinite articles (Slavic languages, at least the ones I'm familiar with, don't have them). It's all about perspective.
Whether the premise that languages are getting simpler over time is actually true is debatable, but it doesn't really matter. You have to fight pseudo-science with pseudo-science!
Friday, September 28, 2012
Really, I can't be helpful ALL the time
At two months shy of five years old, my daughter is pretty good at speaking correctly, but she does still sometimes have trouble with irregular forms. At times like that I have to choose between letting it go and offering her the correct form. Sometimes, though, I do this instead:
K: ...mouses.
Apo (in Slovak): Actually in English it's one 'mouse', but two or more 'mice'. It's irregular.
Me (in English): Yeah, and it's one 'house' and lots of 'hice'.
Apo (shaking head, to K): Houses.
Me: And one 'louse' and lots of 'lice'. Ooh, and one 'rouse' and lots of 'rice'.
Apo (to me): Wait, really?
Ha! I got him.
***
This week K had her first ballet lesson. She loves dancing, pink, princesses and anything girly, so she was PUMPED. A day or two before, the Slovak told me she prayed at bedtime "...aby na mě nic neskočilo, abych nebyla nemocná a mohla jít na balet." (so that nothing jumps on me so I won't be sick and can go to ballet) After a minute he realized she meant "aby na mě nic nelezlo" (climbing, not jumping), from něco na mě leze (I'm coming down with something).
You probably have to speak Czech to find that very funny...
K: ...mouses.
Apo (in Slovak): Actually in English it's one 'mouse', but two or more 'mice'. It's irregular.
Me (in English): Yeah, and it's one 'house' and lots of 'hice'.
Apo (shaking head, to K): Houses.
Me: And one 'louse' and lots of 'lice'. Ooh, and one 'rouse' and lots of 'rice'.
Apo (to me): Wait, really?
Ha! I got him.
***
This week K had her first ballet lesson. She loves dancing, pink, princesses and anything girly, so she was PUMPED. A day or two before, the Slovak told me she prayed at bedtime "...aby na mě nic neskočilo, abych nebyla nemocná a mohla jít na balet." (so that nothing jumps on me so I won't be sick and can go to ballet) After a minute he realized she meant "aby na mě nic nelezlo" (climbing, not jumping), from něco na mě leze (I'm coming down with something).
You probably have to speak Czech to find that very funny...
Sunday, October 2, 2011
It's All Downhill From Here...
My daughter used a Czech phrase this weekend that I didn't know.
Actually, she's been using this phrase for a while and it was only this weekend that the penny dropped: on Friday I learned the phrase myself, when her preschool teacher used it in front of me, and on Saturday K used it again and I realized, "THAT's what she's been saying all this time!"
The phrase is "mít kozí nohy" - having your shoes on the wrong feet. Obviously something that comes up regularly in a preschool environment. Literally it means "having goat feet." K's version is more like "Mám kože nohe?" so maybe I can be forgiven for not recognizing it - not that I'd have known what it meant if I had. Sigh.
I comfort myself with the fact that the Slovak had never heard this phrase either. Last year it was asking me for a word I didn't know (banana peel), this time it was knowing a word I didn't know.
Overall, though, I still have the edge. The Slovak has the edge in English, too. Vocabulary, grammar, pronunciation. We know how to use "he" and "she" properly. Things like that.
Also, we can spell, drive and go to bed whenever we want. (I spell better than the Slovak - in either language. For the record.)
We aren't ceding ground to our almost-four-year-old quite yet.
But...it's still coming.
Actually, she's been using this phrase for a while and it was only this weekend that the penny dropped: on Friday I learned the phrase myself, when her preschool teacher used it in front of me, and on Saturday K used it again and I realized, "THAT's what she's been saying all this time!"
The phrase is "mít kozí nohy" - having your shoes on the wrong feet. Obviously something that comes up regularly in a preschool environment. Literally it means "having goat feet." K's version is more like "Mám kože nohe?" so maybe I can be forgiven for not recognizing it - not that I'd have known what it meant if I had. Sigh.
I comfort myself with the fact that the Slovak had never heard this phrase either. Last year it was asking me for a word I didn't know (banana peel), this time it was knowing a word I didn't know.
Overall, though, I still have the edge. The Slovak has the edge in English, too. Vocabulary, grammar, pronunciation. We know how to use "he" and "she" properly. Things like that.
Also, we can spell, drive and go to bed whenever we want. (I spell better than the Slovak - in either language. For the record.)
We aren't ceding ground to our almost-four-year-old quite yet.
But...it's still coming.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Working Mama
I mentioned yesterday "starting a business" and was taken to task in the comments for it. So, details!
I picked up my Czech Trade License (aka self employed person's license) on Monday in part two of the Pleasantest Bureaucratic Experience Ever. Category: Translation and Interpretation.
I've done a bit of freelance translation here and there since Baby K was born, not too intensively, just kind of whoever came along. For the past six months or so, though, as I've considered what to do when my luxurious three years of parental leave runs out, I've been ramping it up a bit, updating CVs, looking for more clients, figuring out what paperwork I need, etc.
Since coming back to Prague I've started to put the plans in place, getting the trade license and everything I need to be officially self-employed as a freelance translator. Czech to English, Slovak to English. Mostly legal, since I worked in law offices in USA and CZ in my pre-child days.
It's all in the start-up stage now, trying to work out what number I need from what government office and how to generally run a business...but I think it has potential. I'm cautiously optimistic. :)
I picked up my Czech Trade License (aka self employed person's license) on Monday in part two of the Pleasantest Bureaucratic Experience Ever. Category: Translation and Interpretation.
I've done a bit of freelance translation here and there since Baby K was born, not too intensively, just kind of whoever came along. For the past six months or so, though, as I've considered what to do when my luxurious three years of parental leave runs out, I've been ramping it up a bit, updating CVs, looking for more clients, figuring out what paperwork I need, etc.
Since coming back to Prague I've started to put the plans in place, getting the trade license and everything I need to be officially self-employed as a freelance translator. Czech to English, Slovak to English. Mostly legal, since I worked in law offices in USA and CZ in my pre-child days.
It's all in the start-up stage now, trying to work out what number I need from what government office and how to generally run a business...but I think it has potential. I'm cautiously optimistic. :)
Saturday, October 9, 2010
What does bilingualism\multilingualism mean to you?
This post is part of the Blogging Carnival on Bilingualism, hosted this month at Multilingual Living.
I just answered this question at the Multilingual Mania Facebook page and it started me thinking. My answer was:
And the challenge...I do love a challenge, and this one hasn't gotten old so far. I remember my first year after university (after coming back from a three month stay in Prague) I had a job and an apartment and absolutely no challenge in my life. I was bored stiff. I read a huge number of books that year, difficult, challenging books that made me think, because I needed to use my brain. That was part of the appeal of moving to a new country and learning a new language: at first, even (especially!) grocery shopping is a challenge! I thrive on it, and I still get bored if things start getting too easy.
Along with the challenge, I love the undercover agent game aspect. I have two names (CZ/SK surnames are slightly different for women), two identity cards, two marriage licenses. I'm not quite what I seem. Still no numbered Swiss bank account or Q to give me gadgets, but it's still pretty awesome.
But then I realize, those are pretty much the same answers I could have given six or seven years ago. They relate just to me in relationship with the society around me. But they don't take into account how I've changed since then. They don't account for love, for my husband, for my daughter.
So to me, bilingualism also means love. It means I can tell my husband I love him in his own language. It means when he retreats into his own language, in laughter, in pain, in stress, in pleasure, I can follow him there. When he wants to share with me a joke or a movie from his childhood, I can appreciate it. It means I come into his world. And all of this applies equally for him to me.
Then when it comes to our daughter, bilingualism means that she is connected to her family, her extended family, generations of Slovaks and generations of Americans stretching back into the past, and the cultures that produced us all. She can share the songs, the movies, the customs, the food of both sets of grandparents. It means she has two whole worlds open to her...just as a start. Bilingualism means I serve as her interpreter when she needs one - not her as mine.
It means I can have a relationship with my in-laws, and help my daughter to do the same. It means I can support my husband when he forgets a word, my daughter when she doesn't know one.
Bilingualism makes my family possible. And you don't get any more essential than that.
I just answered this question at the Multilingual Mania Facebook page and it started me thinking. My answer was:
"To me it means being a part of two separate worlds defined by the two languages, and belonging to them both. It's a constant challenge and a game of deep undercover, with points scored when I make a good turn of phrase or someone believes I'm a native speaker, and points lost when I lose my cover by making a silly mistake. These are the things that keep my life interesting from day to day :)"As I've written about before, for me it's less about being two people or having two personalities and more about being one person who moves between two worlds. I think this one is key for me.
And the challenge...I do love a challenge, and this one hasn't gotten old so far. I remember my first year after university (after coming back from a three month stay in Prague) I had a job and an apartment and absolutely no challenge in my life. I was bored stiff. I read a huge number of books that year, difficult, challenging books that made me think, because I needed to use my brain. That was part of the appeal of moving to a new country and learning a new language: at first, even (especially!) grocery shopping is a challenge! I thrive on it, and I still get bored if things start getting too easy.
Along with the challenge, I love the undercover agent game aspect. I have two names (CZ/SK surnames are slightly different for women), two identity cards, two marriage licenses. I'm not quite what I seem. Still no numbered Swiss bank account or Q to give me gadgets, but it's still pretty awesome.
But then I realize, those are pretty much the same answers I could have given six or seven years ago. They relate just to me in relationship with the society around me. But they don't take into account how I've changed since then. They don't account for love, for my husband, for my daughter.
So to me, bilingualism also means love. It means I can tell my husband I love him in his own language. It means when he retreats into his own language, in laughter, in pain, in stress, in pleasure, I can follow him there. When he wants to share with me a joke or a movie from his childhood, I can appreciate it. It means I come into his world. And all of this applies equally for him to me.
Then when it comes to our daughter, bilingualism means that she is connected to her family, her extended family, generations of Slovaks and generations of Americans stretching back into the past, and the cultures that produced us all. She can share the songs, the movies, the customs, the food of both sets of grandparents. It means she has two whole worlds open to her...just as a start. Bilingualism means I serve as her interpreter when she needs one - not her as mine.
It means I can have a relationship with my in-laws, and help my daughter to do the same. It means I can support my husband when he forgets a word, my daughter when she doesn't know one.
Bilingualism makes my family possible. And you don't get any more essential than that.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Guest post
So I totally forgot to link to my most recent guest post on Multilingual Mania, another addition to the Language and Identity series there. Stop by and read The Blank Page, the Fresh Start, an exploration of how learning a new language as an adult can affect your identity in the new language and as a whole.
And with that...I'm out. My bilingual child is driving me up the wall today, so I need to go count the minutes until her father gets off work!
And with that...I'm out. My bilingual child is driving me up the wall today, so I need to go count the minutes until her father gets off work!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Moving, Day 2
K: "Mami, daj!" (Mama, give me that!)
Made me slightly nervous until I realized which language she was speaking. "Daj" sounds like English "die". Cheeky child.
---
Me, discussing fitting houseful of things into an apartment: "We're going to have to využívat the sklep." (take advantage of the basement storage area)
I could have also said it the other way: "Budeme muset jůznout (n.b. use-nout) ten basement." The Slovak of my dreams would have understood me either way. How awesome is language mixing, anyway?
---
K and I watched some Bořek Stavitel and Prasátko Pepinka on the internet yesterday. That is, the Czech versions of Bob the Builder and Peppa Pig. I am slightly mystified as to why they went with "Bořek" for Bob's name instead of something alliterative like "Standa Stavitel". That will not, however, keep me from singing "Znáááte Bořka? Všechno staví!" for the next few days at least.
I totally should have thought of that before - the problem with finding traditional Czech children's entertainment online is that a lot of it has no words or, all too often, words that I wouldn't want my preschooler hearing! Or else it's just over her head, like the classic Czech fairy tale movies we have. K isn't quite old enough for Pyšná princezna or Princezna se zlatou hvězdou na čele yet...although come to think of it, maybe I should try them out soon. She IS very into all things castle and royal lately.
We also watched some (more) videos of Czech and Slovak kids' songs. I particularly look for songs K knows, sung by children, like home videos of someone's two-year-old singing a barely recognizable Prší, prší. I think it's good to see the language and the songs K hears at home from Apo also being used and sung by real children like her. Plus she really likes babies.
Made me slightly nervous until I realized which language she was speaking. "Daj" sounds like English "die". Cheeky child.
---
Me, discussing fitting houseful of things into an apartment: "We're going to have to využívat the sklep." (take advantage of the basement storage area)
I could have also said it the other way: "Budeme muset jůznout (n.b. use-nout) ten basement." The Slovak of my dreams would have understood me either way. How awesome is language mixing, anyway?
---
K and I watched some Bořek Stavitel and Prasátko Pepinka on the internet yesterday. That is, the Czech versions of Bob the Builder and Peppa Pig. I am slightly mystified as to why they went with "Bořek" for Bob's name instead of something alliterative like "Standa Stavitel". That will not, however, keep me from singing "Znáááte Bořka? Všechno staví!" for the next few days at least.
I totally should have thought of that before - the problem with finding traditional Czech children's entertainment online is that a lot of it has no words or, all too often, words that I wouldn't want my preschooler hearing! Or else it's just over her head, like the classic Czech fairy tale movies we have. K isn't quite old enough for Pyšná princezna or Princezna se zlatou hvězdou na čele yet...although come to think of it, maybe I should try them out soon. She IS very into all things castle and royal lately.
We also watched some (more) videos of Czech and Slovak kids' songs. I particularly look for songs K knows, sung by children, like home videos of someone's two-year-old singing a barely recognizable Prší, prší. I think it's good to see the language and the songs K hears at home from Apo also being used and sung by real children like her. Plus she really likes babies.
Friday, September 24, 2010
On Being the Expert
We had a first this week - the first of what will probably become commonplace in a few years. K asked me how to say something and I didn't know the answer!
"Mama, I put this on table. What this called?"
"That's a banana peel."
"What Apo call this?"
"Um, I don't know! We'll have to ask Apo when he gets home."
And with that, a bridge was crossed. All because I don't eat bananas.
---
I'm in a peculiar position at the moment, because we are moving to a country where I know the language and my daughter doesn't. I am the expert in her eyes. But, since it isn't my native language, she will have the occasional question that I can't answer and the day will come when she will know the language better than I do. For the moment, though, I still know more than she does. I'm enjoying it while it lasts.
(That applies to more than one area of life, doesn't it? I also am retaining my edge in technology and gadgets, by the skin of my teeth. K can do things with my phone that it took me ages to figure out...)
---
Also, even once K both speaks Czech and works my phone better than me, I will still be the one with the driver's license. And the bank account. Thus guaranteeing me a few more years of relevance to her life!
"Mama, I put this on table. What this called?"
"That's a banana peel."
"What Apo call this?"
"Um, I don't know! We'll have to ask Apo when he gets home."
And with that, a bridge was crossed. All because I don't eat bananas.
---
I'm in a peculiar position at the moment, because we are moving to a country where I know the language and my daughter doesn't. I am the expert in her eyes. But, since it isn't my native language, she will have the occasional question that I can't answer and the day will come when she will know the language better than I do. For the moment, though, I still know more than she does. I'm enjoying it while it lasts.
(That applies to more than one area of life, doesn't it? I also am retaining my edge in technology and gadgets, by the skin of my teeth. K can do things with my phone that it took me ages to figure out...)
---
Also, even once K both speaks Czech and works my phone better than me, I will still be the one with the driver's license. And the bank account. Thus guaranteeing me a few more years of relevance to her life!
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Power of Word Choice
Recently K doesn't seem to "want" anything: she "needs" it.
"I need sit on you knee." [i.e. lap]
"Mami, I need Timmy." [TV show]
"I really, really need chocolate."
I guess all those exchanges consisting of, "I want chocolate" and "No, you don't need chocolate now" have made an impact. It's not a question of desire, mother! I need it! To live!
---
Also, brief, cryptic discussions in Slovak apparently don't go over K's head any more...at least, not when it comes to Christmas presents. Apo went back in the store to buy something we'd been looking at for K, while K and I walked on. As soon as he left, she turned to me and asked, "Apo buy me my Tinkerbell now?"
If we want a secret language, I may actually have to learn Hungarian. Though K will probably learn it faster...
"I need sit on you knee." [i.e. lap]
"Mami, I need Timmy." [TV show]
"I really, really need chocolate."
I guess all those exchanges consisting of, "I want chocolate" and "No, you don't need chocolate now" have made an impact. It's not a question of desire, mother! I need it! To live!
---
Also, brief, cryptic discussions in Slovak apparently don't go over K's head any more...at least, not when it comes to Christmas presents. Apo went back in the store to buy something we'd been looking at for K, while K and I walked on. As soon as he left, she turned to me and asked, "Apo buy me my Tinkerbell now?"
If we want a secret language, I may actually have to learn Hungarian. Though K will probably learn it faster...
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Back, briefly
We're back from our last visit to Prague before moving in, like, three weeks. Ask me if I've packed anything. Don't expect much of an answer.
---
While I was away, I had an article published at Multilingual Mania! It's called The Language That Speaks to My Heart and talks about how language affects (my) identity. Take a look if you haven't read it already, and I hope you like it!
---
We had a great week full of friends and somewhat cruddy weather that didn't manage to keep us from having fun. K was best friends over the weekend with a boy her age who only speaks Polish. It didn't stop them getting into mischief, giving each other hugs and to tell you the truth, it kind of looked like they were spooning once. I learned a little bit (more) Polish. Also Croatian and Hungarian. You don't get too much more multilingual than this past weekend!
I even made it to K's preschool informational meeting and introductory first day for new kids. My reservations about the school eased in some ways and intensified in others, leaving me firmly ambivalent. Pro: K's teachers seem nice. Con: I find it VERY, VERY DIFFICULT to overlook the mistakes they make in English. "Participating on" something or wanting "to enlight" someone my child might not notice, but "jinny pig" for "guinea pig" is a little more blatant. The lead teacher's Czech is better than her English, but she's not a native speaker. I'd say she speaks Czech approximately as well as I do, i.e. occasional mistakes and an occasionally noticeable (in her case Russian) accent. Not a deal-breaker, but they DO claim to have "native speakers" in each classroom, and I wouldn't consider myself or the teacher to be native speakers of Czech. However, the more important thing to me is that she is sweet and I think K will like her.
Also, they want to feed her seaweed. We'll see how it goes.
---
While I was away, I had an article published at Multilingual Mania! It's called The Language That Speaks to My Heart and talks about how language affects (my) identity. Take a look if you haven't read it already, and I hope you like it!
---
We had a great week full of friends and somewhat cruddy weather that didn't manage to keep us from having fun. K was best friends over the weekend with a boy her age who only speaks Polish. It didn't stop them getting into mischief, giving each other hugs and to tell you the truth, it kind of looked like they were spooning once. I learned a little bit (more) Polish. Also Croatian and Hungarian. You don't get too much more multilingual than this past weekend!
I even made it to K's preschool informational meeting and introductory first day for new kids. My reservations about the school eased in some ways and intensified in others, leaving me firmly ambivalent. Pro: K's teachers seem nice. Con: I find it VERY, VERY DIFFICULT to overlook the mistakes they make in English. "Participating on" something or wanting "to enlight" someone my child might not notice, but "jinny pig" for "guinea pig" is a little more blatant. The lead teacher's Czech is better than her English, but she's not a native speaker. I'd say she speaks Czech approximately as well as I do, i.e. occasional mistakes and an occasionally noticeable (in her case Russian) accent. Not a deal-breaker, but they DO claim to have "native speakers" in each classroom, and I wouldn't consider myself or the teacher to be native speakers of Czech. However, the more important thing to me is that she is sweet and I think K will like her.
Also, they want to feed her seaweed. We'll see how it goes.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Don't mess with Babka. She will take you down.
I never did the post-visit debriefing. Babka left last Tuesday after ten days with us, and I have to say it was the most pleasant, least stressful for everyone visit we've had yet. I think we're finding our stride.
I didn't keep up the all Czech at home the whole time, but there was a lot of CZ/SK flying around. It mostly depended on how much energy I had at any given moment to deal with addressing K in Czech, but I did still have to do a whole lot of translating. This because K is talking a lot more sense than last time we saw Babka, so I have to clue Babka in to what K is telling her. I would let K clue Babka in herself, but K is holding firm to her position that if K understands a word, everyone should understand it. Which basically adds up to me doing a lot of interpreting for a little girl who cuts no slack for anyone who can't keep up!
My favorite part of Babka's visit, during the trip to lovely Scotland, was how the Slovak of my dreams and I convinced her to think back and tell us everything she remembers about her family background and childhood. It isn't something she talks about much, so he learned almost as much as I did. Like that his grandfather was the dance master for the town, leading all the dances and teaching the dance classes. Maybe that's where his grandson got his dancing talent?
I think the best part was her stories about her own mother-in-law. We never met any of the Slovak's grandparents, because the last of them died when he was K's age, but his paternal grandmother sounds like a piece of work. Once Babka picked up and left with her little son in tow - without telling her husband - because his mother gave all the children chocolate, "Except for you, [Apo], you don't like chocolate anyway." So of course he cried and cried at being left out. So Babka took him and left, and when her husband came back from mushrooming with the brothers-in-law, no one could tell him where they'd gone! Apparently, the last straw came when her husband's mother was staying with them (her five children took turns keeping her for a month each). Babka had to bring her meals in bed because she was ill and bedridden - supposedly. One day when Babka got home from work, her mother-in-law told her the plates were in the wrong cupboard and the cups should be over there and the towels were folded wrong blah blah blah. Babka asked how she knew what was in the cupboards if she couldn't get out of bed, and it turned out maybe old granny isn't QUITE as bedridden as she claims...
Babka packed up her mother-in-law's things and set the suitcase outside. When her husband got home, she told him, "Take your mother to a hotel, and if you don't like it, you can go too!" I'm telling you. You do not mess with our Babka!
We also asked about how it was that they went from a Hungarian-speaking family to speaking only Slovak later. She has mentioned before that in school they were harshly disciplined for speaking Hungarian, which surely makes a strong impression on a young child. She also talked now about a time, walking with her mother and sister in the street, when a group of men came up and slapped her mother across the face and said, "In Slovakia, you only speak Slovak." This was during the Slovak protectorate during the war. That incident, combined with the beatings in school, combined with the natural inclination of a child to speak the school and neighborhood language, made Babka more and more resistant to speak Hungarian at all that eventually she couldn't even when she tried. She said her parents gradually spoke more Slovak to their daughters, because the girls refused to speak Hungarian with them (they were able to speak it perfectly well, actually - it wasn't that they were immigrants who didn't know the language) to the point that the younger girl never even learned Hungarian.
Now Babka is able to understand some Hungarian, I think, but refuses to even try to speak. Her son, our Apo, learned Hungarian not from his parents but from the older couple who took care of him in lieu of daycare. Once he stopped going to their house, he had very little opportunity to use it and never learned to properly read or write.
And that is why we don't speak Hungarian today. I don't know about you, but I find it a very sad story. Babka still carries the hurt from being mistreated by the ignorant and misguided and from losing her language. I wish I could say that attitudes across the world have entirely changed in our generation - but they haven't, have they?
I can tell you, though, Hungarian speaking or not, I don't ever want to get on our Babka's bad side! And neither do you.
Keep that in mind, people!
I didn't keep up the all Czech at home the whole time, but there was a lot of CZ/SK flying around. It mostly depended on how much energy I had at any given moment to deal with addressing K in Czech, but I did still have to do a whole lot of translating. This because K is talking a lot more sense than last time we saw Babka, so I have to clue Babka in to what K is telling her. I would let K clue Babka in herself, but K is holding firm to her position that if K understands a word, everyone should understand it. Which basically adds up to me doing a lot of interpreting for a little girl who cuts no slack for anyone who can't keep up!
My favorite part of Babka's visit, during the trip to lovely Scotland, was how the Slovak of my dreams and I convinced her to think back and tell us everything she remembers about her family background and childhood. It isn't something she talks about much, so he learned almost as much as I did. Like that his grandfather was the dance master for the town, leading all the dances and teaching the dance classes. Maybe that's where his grandson got his dancing talent?
I think the best part was her stories about her own mother-in-law. We never met any of the Slovak's grandparents, because the last of them died when he was K's age, but his paternal grandmother sounds like a piece of work. Once Babka picked up and left with her little son in tow - without telling her husband - because his mother gave all the children chocolate, "Except for you, [Apo], you don't like chocolate anyway." So of course he cried and cried at being left out. So Babka took him and left, and when her husband came back from mushrooming with the brothers-in-law, no one could tell him where they'd gone! Apparently, the last straw came when her husband's mother was staying with them (her five children took turns keeping her for a month each). Babka had to bring her meals in bed because she was ill and bedridden - supposedly. One day when Babka got home from work, her mother-in-law told her the plates were in the wrong cupboard and the cups should be over there and the towels were folded wrong blah blah blah. Babka asked how she knew what was in the cupboards if she couldn't get out of bed, and it turned out maybe old granny isn't QUITE as bedridden as she claims...
Babka packed up her mother-in-law's things and set the suitcase outside. When her husband got home, she told him, "Take your mother to a hotel, and if you don't like it, you can go too!" I'm telling you. You do not mess with our Babka!
We also asked about how it was that they went from a Hungarian-speaking family to speaking only Slovak later. She has mentioned before that in school they were harshly disciplined for speaking Hungarian, which surely makes a strong impression on a young child. She also talked now about a time, walking with her mother and sister in the street, when a group of men came up and slapped her mother across the face and said, "In Slovakia, you only speak Slovak." This was during the Slovak protectorate during the war. That incident, combined with the beatings in school, combined with the natural inclination of a child to speak the school and neighborhood language, made Babka more and more resistant to speak Hungarian at all that eventually she couldn't even when she tried. She said her parents gradually spoke more Slovak to their daughters, because the girls refused to speak Hungarian with them (they were able to speak it perfectly well, actually - it wasn't that they were immigrants who didn't know the language) to the point that the younger girl never even learned Hungarian.
Now Babka is able to understand some Hungarian, I think, but refuses to even try to speak. Her son, our Apo, learned Hungarian not from his parents but from the older couple who took care of him in lieu of daycare. Once he stopped going to their house, he had very little opportunity to use it and never learned to properly read or write.
And that is why we don't speak Hungarian today. I don't know about you, but I find it a very sad story. Babka still carries the hurt from being mistreated by the ignorant and misguided and from losing her language. I wish I could say that attitudes across the world have entirely changed in our generation - but they haven't, have they?
I can tell you, though, Hungarian speaking or not, I don't ever want to get on our Babka's bad side! And neither do you.
Keep that in mind, people!
Friday, July 9, 2010
Betrayed by an "Um"
Or, the importance of non-verbals in language acquisition.
I had a disturbing experience during our visit to Prague a few months ago. You see, usually, if someone asks about my background, they assume I’m:
a Czech who’s been out of the country long enough to get rusty
born abroad with Czech parents/grandparents
Moravian
Slovak
Polish
Ukrainian
Croatian
Russian
French
and so on. In order of most to least flattering.
English-speaking countries are far down the list of common guesses. Even, interestingly, when the person is holding my residence card stating my nationality in their hand (as happened with my doctor the first time anyone ever mistook me for Czech). This is an important point because it shows that my accent, while present, is somewhat difficult to define, in contrast to when I first started learning Czech and my pronunciation screamed AMERICAN IN THE ROOM. Now it is mainly my husband’s OU Sooners (college football) shirt and hat that scream American in the room. He is often stopped by Americans in Prague asking what part of Oklahoma he is from. If he were more of a smart aleck he would say Prague. Pronounced "Pray-g". Cracks me up every time.
My disturbing experience took place on the playground when a mom I was talking with asked me where I was from after just a few sentences of conversation, and without waiting for an answer, she said, “American, right?” She said her father spent several years in the United States and came back saying “uh-huh” all the time, just like I did. I really can’t remember the last time someone guessed I was an American right away during a Czech conversation.
I also recall a few years ago a colleague said to me, “You know, however good your Czech may get, I’ll always know you’re an American by the way you say ‘um’.”
My response? “Um…yeah, I should do something about that.”
I have actually worked to eliminate my “um” and “uh” and similar nonverbal giveaways, but I can’t find anything to replace them with. The Slovak is very little help, as his answer is always, “You shouldn’t say anything like that!” He was taught in school to rephrase whatever he’d just said to give himself time to regroup, rather than using a filler sound like “uh”. That is interesting advice, but it does lead to a lot of repetition. Like, saying the same thing three times in a row. And anyway, I have a deep-seated need to make some sound or hand motion when thinking (of a word or of how to answer a question, etc). I have had some success with replacing “um” and other American nonverbals with more Czechish ones (and in the above mentioned conversation I was actually intending to say “aha”), but the odd “uh-huh” still makes its way through on occasion and outs me to any careful listener. I’m also not sure what to do with “ow”, assuming I don’t want to curse, in which case I would have a wealth of colorful options at my disposal.
Who knew that grammar, vocabulary, word order, pronunciation, intonation and local cultural references, assuming I could ever get that far, weren’t enough? Not that I don’t have plenty to work on with all of those, either! But even if you mastered all of that, you have to be the other language even when not actually talking! After all the nonverbal sounds, of course, come things like posture, volume, facial expressions, shoes (shoes are a dead giveaway for Americans, has anyone else noticed that??), and who knows what else.
I once brought a sick friend (my Czech teacher actually) TWO FLOWERS as a get-well-soon gift, and she laughed and said, “Sometimes I forget you aren’t entirely domesticated yet.” Um, okay… The ridiculous thing is, I KNEW that even numbers of flowers are for funerals. I had even advised foreign visitors of that in the past, but it never crossed my mind when going for a visit myself. It could be worse, I suppose – I have an American friend who brought his Czech wife ten red roses when she gave birth to their first child. Supposedly she practically beat him over the head with them because 1) even numbers are for funerals, and 2) where was her gold jewelry (as he should have given her according to custom)??
On the flip side, there are also Czech nonverbals that I have incorporated pretty fully into English, which I only really realized when I had to translate some of K’s utterances into “English” for my family. For instance, we say “fuj” (ew) whatever the language context, or “ham” (taking a bite) or “ňam ňam” (yum yum). Or Barany buc. I also consider “ahoj” and “čau” (both are “hi” or “bye”) to be pretty much English words at this point. I feel fairly justified in this, since the Slovak claims that “čau” (derived from “ciao”) is actually of Slovak origin.
So there you have it: my second language Achilles heel. I probably have others that I don’t even know about, but this is the main one I am fighting at the moment.
What is it that holds you back in your other language? How does non-verbal communication differ in your other language/country? What should I say instead of “uh-huh” in order not to sound too foreign?? I welcome thoughts on any of these questions!
I had a disturbing experience during our visit to Prague a few months ago. You see, usually, if someone asks about my background, they assume I’m:
a Czech who’s been out of the country long enough to get rusty
born abroad with Czech parents/grandparents
Moravian
Slovak
Polish
Ukrainian
Croatian
Russian
French
and so on. In order of most to least flattering.
English-speaking countries are far down the list of common guesses. Even, interestingly, when the person is holding my residence card stating my nationality in their hand (as happened with my doctor the first time anyone ever mistook me for Czech). This is an important point because it shows that my accent, while present, is somewhat difficult to define, in contrast to when I first started learning Czech and my pronunciation screamed AMERICAN IN THE ROOM. Now it is mainly my husband’s OU Sooners (college football) shirt and hat that scream American in the room. He is often stopped by Americans in Prague asking what part of Oklahoma he is from. If he were more of a smart aleck he would say Prague. Pronounced "Pray-g". Cracks me up every time.
My disturbing experience took place on the playground when a mom I was talking with asked me where I was from after just a few sentences of conversation, and without waiting for an answer, she said, “American, right?” She said her father spent several years in the United States and came back saying “uh-huh” all the time, just like I did. I really can’t remember the last time someone guessed I was an American right away during a Czech conversation.
I also recall a few years ago a colleague said to me, “You know, however good your Czech may get, I’ll always know you’re an American by the way you say ‘um’.”
My response? “Um…yeah, I should do something about that.”
I have actually worked to eliminate my “um” and “uh” and similar nonverbal giveaways, but I can’t find anything to replace them with. The Slovak is very little help, as his answer is always, “You shouldn’t say anything like that!” He was taught in school to rephrase whatever he’d just said to give himself time to regroup, rather than using a filler sound like “uh”. That is interesting advice, but it does lead to a lot of repetition. Like, saying the same thing three times in a row. And anyway, I have a deep-seated need to make some sound or hand motion when thinking (of a word or of how to answer a question, etc). I have had some success with replacing “um” and other American nonverbals with more Czechish ones (and in the above mentioned conversation I was actually intending to say “aha”), but the odd “uh-huh” still makes its way through on occasion and outs me to any careful listener. I’m also not sure what to do with “ow”, assuming I don’t want to curse, in which case I would have a wealth of colorful options at my disposal.
Who knew that grammar, vocabulary, word order, pronunciation, intonation and local cultural references, assuming I could ever get that far, weren’t enough? Not that I don’t have plenty to work on with all of those, either! But even if you mastered all of that, you have to be the other language even when not actually talking! After all the nonverbal sounds, of course, come things like posture, volume, facial expressions, shoes (shoes are a dead giveaway for Americans, has anyone else noticed that??), and who knows what else.
I once brought a sick friend (my Czech teacher actually) TWO FLOWERS as a get-well-soon gift, and she laughed and said, “Sometimes I forget you aren’t entirely domesticated yet.” Um, okay… The ridiculous thing is, I KNEW that even numbers of flowers are for funerals. I had even advised foreign visitors of that in the past, but it never crossed my mind when going for a visit myself. It could be worse, I suppose – I have an American friend who brought his Czech wife ten red roses when she gave birth to their first child. Supposedly she practically beat him over the head with them because 1) even numbers are for funerals, and 2) where was her gold jewelry (as he should have given her according to custom)??
On the flip side, there are also Czech nonverbals that I have incorporated pretty fully into English, which I only really realized when I had to translate some of K’s utterances into “English” for my family. For instance, we say “fuj” (ew) whatever the language context, or “ham” (taking a bite) or “ňam ňam” (yum yum). Or Barany buc. I also consider “ahoj” and “čau” (both are “hi” or “bye”) to be pretty much English words at this point. I feel fairly justified in this, since the Slovak claims that “čau” (derived from “ciao”) is actually of Slovak origin.
So there you have it: my second language Achilles heel. I probably have others that I don’t even know about, but this is the main one I am fighting at the moment.
What is it that holds you back in your other language? How does non-verbal communication differ in your other language/country? What should I say instead of “uh-huh” in order not to sound too foreign?? I welcome thoughts on any of these questions!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Living a Czech life in Multilingual Britain
One of my favorite things about our town, other than the parks, the trees, the children’s centres, and the ten minute walk to Starbucks, is the Slovak community that has mysteriously gathered here. In our previous town, twenty minutes away, there were no parks, few trees, no playgroup (or Starbucks!) within easy walking distance, and no Slovaks! Well, just the one. Worked in the bakery. Recognized me by my “Česká republika” shirt. I am nothing if not subtle.
Then I move here, and hey! Slovaks! And playgroups! And parks! I felt like I was being let out of prison. Plus, there's a semi-active Slovak playgroup that meets at our local children's centre. And a Czech group that meets once a week in a nearby town. And a Czech Saturday school in another nearby town. If we stayed here long term, we would have more opportunity to take advantage of these resources, too. I just kick myself for not moving here in the first place so I could have had two years of Slovaks and playgroups, not just one. I met one Slovak mother at our local playgroup (overheard her speaking to her son) and she tipped me off to a particular park where a lot of Slovak (and some Czech) families go. Once I made an acquaintance or two, I was in! I am currently refraining from making a comparison to the mafia.
It is really great to have a friend or two who speak Slovak to their kids. It hasn’t magically taught my daughter Slovak, but she gets to hear more adults speaking the language than just her father, which does count for something. It has also been a lifesaver for my ability to string together a coherent sentence. My first year in England was very hard on my language – apparently talking to my husband when the mood strikes just isn’t enough. Having a friend to talk to, and bumping into the occasional mom in the coffeeshop or the park, has got me nearly at an acceptable level again.
And it isn’t just Slovaks in this town. I’ve met families from all over Europe and the world at our local playgroup. Even some of the mothers I thought were British later turn out to actually be from Spain or Finland (etc). I remember at one of our early visits getting into a conversation with a Slovak and a Portuguese woman with a British husband about raising our children with two languages, and I noticed a couple of other mothers were sort of edging their way closer. “Aha,” I thought, “you’re intrigued by our bizarre bilingual lifestyle.” At a second look, it struck me that one woman was Indian and the other was German. They didn’t think we were freaks; they were facing the same issues themselves! To me, that is just fantastic. I love that my daughter has friends from different language backgrounds, with parents who speak fluent English AND their home languages, too. That sort of integrated diversity is one thing really lacking in homogenous Czech Republic as well as our part of USA.
It’s funny how much difference a 20 minute drive makes. We couldn’t have predicted that this particular area would be the one where we can make Slovak friends on the playground. We just got lucky on the second try, I guess. Our town isn’t ideal, but the parks and the playgroups and the Slovaks make it worth it for us. We will actually miss it when we move back to Prague.
Then I move here, and hey! Slovaks! And playgroups! And parks! I felt like I was being let out of prison. Plus, there's a semi-active Slovak playgroup that meets at our local children's centre. And a Czech group that meets once a week in a nearby town. And a Czech Saturday school in another nearby town. If we stayed here long term, we would have more opportunity to take advantage of these resources, too. I just kick myself for not moving here in the first place so I could have had two years of Slovaks and playgroups, not just one. I met one Slovak mother at our local playgroup (overheard her speaking to her son) and she tipped me off to a particular park where a lot of Slovak (and some Czech) families go. Once I made an acquaintance or two, I was in! I am currently refraining from making a comparison to the mafia.
It is really great to have a friend or two who speak Slovak to their kids. It hasn’t magically taught my daughter Slovak, but she gets to hear more adults speaking the language than just her father, which does count for something. It has also been a lifesaver for my ability to string together a coherent sentence. My first year in England was very hard on my language – apparently talking to my husband when the mood strikes just isn’t enough. Having a friend to talk to, and bumping into the occasional mom in the coffeeshop or the park, has got me nearly at an acceptable level again.
And it isn’t just Slovaks in this town. I’ve met families from all over Europe and the world at our local playgroup. Even some of the mothers I thought were British later turn out to actually be from Spain or Finland (etc). I remember at one of our early visits getting into a conversation with a Slovak and a Portuguese woman with a British husband about raising our children with two languages, and I noticed a couple of other mothers were sort of edging their way closer. “Aha,” I thought, “you’re intrigued by our bizarre bilingual lifestyle.” At a second look, it struck me that one woman was Indian and the other was German. They didn’t think we were freaks; they were facing the same issues themselves! To me, that is just fantastic. I love that my daughter has friends from different language backgrounds, with parents who speak fluent English AND their home languages, too. That sort of integrated diversity is one thing really lacking in homogenous Czech Republic as well as our part of USA.
It’s funny how much difference a 20 minute drive makes. We couldn’t have predicted that this particular area would be the one where we can make Slovak friends on the playground. We just got lucky on the second try, I guess. Our town isn’t ideal, but the parks and the playgroups and the Slovaks make it worth it for us. We will actually miss it when we move back to Prague.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I No English Good, or First Language Attrition
This article, Code Mixing and Code Switching in Bilingual Children and Families gives a nice, clear rundown of the difference between code mixing and code switching. Useful, since I always get them mixed up. Basically: code switching is deliberately choosing to use a feature of one language while speaking the other, typically by bilinguals who master both languages well. This is definitely a staple in the Havo household. Code mixing, by contrast, is substituting features from your native language when you don’t master the second well enough. This is how K speaks at the moment, pulling in words and grammar from English since she doesn’t master Slovak well enough to express herself yet. She’ll get over it with time and exposure. Her parents may code mix from time to time as well, which usually results in merciless teasing (because we should KNOW better!).
One interesting point the author makes is that children who mix languages together may be perfectly aware of what they're doing. It is easy to assume that since a child uses words from both languages indiscriminately, the child isn't really aware that they are actually separate languages. However, children may choose to mix just as deliberately as adults do, and for similar reasons. Something to keep in mind.
What especially interested me, though, was that neither code mixing nor code switching as defined there managed to account for my most common problem: substituting features from my SECOND language into my NATIVE one. Of course my second language has certain limits and I sometimes use an Englishism until someone lets me know it’s wrong (ex: “Slyšela jsem od něho” instead of “ozval se mi”). In casual situations (i.e. in groups where everybody also speaks English AND I don’t care about impressing anybody) where I don’t know a word and can’t be bothered to come up with an on-the-fly workaround, I will deliberately borrow from English. That’s still code-mixing.
However, what really perplexed me was when I would use a Czech word (or literally translated expression, or word order) without realizing it. Especially with Czech words that sound like (even unrelated) English words. For example, I’ve said things like “Put it on the stůl” or “I can’t see from behind the sloup” (stůl means table but sounds like stool, sloup means column but sounds like slope). Presumably my English brain saw those as viable options because they sound like English words, but I’ve also used Czech words with a totally anglicized pronunciation that I would NEVER pronounce like that when in my right mind. I remember a Czech-speaking American friend told me about accidentally mixing when I was still in language school, like “Are you checking on me?” to mean “Are you waiting for me?” (čekat means wait). I thought that was just weird at the time…but then the next year I did the exact same thing! Part of the language acquisition process, I suppose. I don’t do this as much now, thankfully. I do still have a tendency to use the most ridiculous word order in English sometimes, or say things like “I don’t have to eat broccoli” (brokolici nemusím) instead of “I don’t like broccoli”. I’ve even mixed up “lend” and “borrow”, how embarrassing!
Another problem that goes hand in hand is forgetting words in my native language, which is still pretty common. Everybody forgets words sometimes, I just forget them significantly more often. This is kind of embarrassing when talking to family, like the chronic problem I had remembering the word “stroller” since we always used “kočárek” with my husband, so when talking about the baby pushy thing with my mom, there was always this slight pause as I frantically tried to remember: “I was walking along pushing the…stroller…” I have a similar problem in trying to translate quickly, which I think is because I crossed the self-translating bridge a while ago, so I don’t necessarily associate the Czech and English words for one thing with each other, at least not right away. So “stroller” becomes “baby pushy thing” (or with this particular word “baby carriage”, since that’s a literal translation of kočárek), or “kitten” becomes “baby cat, small and furry”. I would make such an impressive interpreter…
At first I thought all of this meant I was slowly losing it: becoming bilingual makes you crazy! Then I decided to hope and pray it was just a phase that passes once you master both languages. Then I decided it probably IS, and that probably other people experience it, too. So when it wasn’t included in the Bilingual For Fun article above, I started googling and it turns out, yes, this is a known phenomenon with a name and everything!
Take a look at this article, Learning and Forgetting Languages:
and
This article suggests that it is, in fact, a phase we go through in learning our second language. I wasn’t losing it – I was being adaptive! Also, our children growing up bilingual shouldn’t go through it. Nice to know.
More googling of “first language attrition” turned up this article.
I identify very strongly with this. I don’t even have the excuse of language isolation as the author of this piece does, since I have never immersed myself in Czech completely: I have always had a small group of people I regularly spoke English with. True, the last year or two that I was in Prague the “small group of people” contracted to include mostly just my husband and the internet, but still, I never gave up English entirely. And yet I do all the things she talks about! Comforting to know it’s not just me – and that it’s not irreversible.
One interesting point the author makes is that children who mix languages together may be perfectly aware of what they're doing. It is easy to assume that since a child uses words from both languages indiscriminately, the child isn't really aware that they are actually separate languages. However, children may choose to mix just as deliberately as adults do, and for similar reasons. Something to keep in mind.
What especially interested me, though, was that neither code mixing nor code switching as defined there managed to account for my most common problem: substituting features from my SECOND language into my NATIVE one. Of course my second language has certain limits and I sometimes use an Englishism until someone lets me know it’s wrong (ex: “Slyšela jsem od něho” instead of “ozval se mi”). In casual situations (i.e. in groups where everybody also speaks English AND I don’t care about impressing anybody) where I don’t know a word and can’t be bothered to come up with an on-the-fly workaround, I will deliberately borrow from English. That’s still code-mixing.
However, what really perplexed me was when I would use a Czech word (or literally translated expression, or word order) without realizing it. Especially with Czech words that sound like (even unrelated) English words. For example, I’ve said things like “Put it on the stůl” or “I can’t see from behind the sloup” (stůl means table but sounds like stool, sloup means column but sounds like slope). Presumably my English brain saw those as viable options because they sound like English words, but I’ve also used Czech words with a totally anglicized pronunciation that I would NEVER pronounce like that when in my right mind. I remember a Czech-speaking American friend told me about accidentally mixing when I was still in language school, like “Are you checking on me?” to mean “Are you waiting for me?” (čekat means wait). I thought that was just weird at the time…but then the next year I did the exact same thing! Part of the language acquisition process, I suppose. I don’t do this as much now, thankfully. I do still have a tendency to use the most ridiculous word order in English sometimes, or say things like “I don’t have to eat broccoli” (brokolici nemusím) instead of “I don’t like broccoli”. I’ve even mixed up “lend” and “borrow”, how embarrassing!
Another problem that goes hand in hand is forgetting words in my native language, which is still pretty common. Everybody forgets words sometimes, I just forget them significantly more often. This is kind of embarrassing when talking to family, like the chronic problem I had remembering the word “stroller” since we always used “kočárek” with my husband, so when talking about the baby pushy thing with my mom, there was always this slight pause as I frantically tried to remember: “I was walking along pushing the…stroller…” I have a similar problem in trying to translate quickly, which I think is because I crossed the self-translating bridge a while ago, so I don’t necessarily associate the Czech and English words for one thing with each other, at least not right away. So “stroller” becomes “baby pushy thing” (or with this particular word “baby carriage”, since that’s a literal translation of kočárek), or “kitten” becomes “baby cat, small and furry”. I would make such an impressive interpreter…
At first I thought all of this meant I was slowly losing it: becoming bilingual makes you crazy! Then I decided to hope and pray it was just a phase that passes once you master both languages. Then I decided it probably IS, and that probably other people experience it, too. So when it wasn’t included in the Bilingual For Fun article above, I started googling and it turns out, yes, this is a known phenomenon with a name and everything!
Take a look at this article, Learning and Forgetting Languages:
“However, they argue that it is crucial in the early stages of learning a new language when students have to actively ignore familiar native language words to progress. This becomes less necessary as fluency increases.”
and
"First-language attrition provides a striking example of how it can be adaptive to (at least temporarily) forget things one has learned."
This article suggests that it is, in fact, a phase we go through in learning our second language. I wasn’t losing it – I was being adaptive! Also, our children growing up bilingual shouldn’t go through it. Nice to know.
More googling of “first language attrition” turned up this article.
I identify very strongly with this. I don’t even have the excuse of language isolation as the author of this piece does, since I have never immersed myself in Czech completely: I have always had a small group of people I regularly spoke English with. True, the last year or two that I was in Prague the “small group of people” contracted to include mostly just my husband and the internet, but still, I never gave up English entirely. And yet I do all the things she talks about! Comforting to know it’s not just me – and that it’s not irreversible.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Grandparents and the Cost of Bilingualism
This post is part of the Blogging Carnival on Bilingualism, hosted this month by Mummy Do That!
---
One particularly geeky Christmas several years ago, the Slovak and I got each other dictionaries* for Christmas, totally by coincidence. I got him an Oxford dictionary for English speakers (i.e. not a translation dictionary) and he got me essentially the same thing in Czech. We were both pumped about our gifts and amused by our parallel thinking. When our parents asked us what we got each other for Christmas, though, both sides had the same reaction: fake smiles and “Oh, how…romantic”. So we explained that no, it’s a great gift, really, and they nodded doubtfully.
But it highlighted a critical element in our relationship with our families, one that takes on new dimensions now that we have a child. My family speaks only English. My husband’s family speaks Slovak and some Hungarian, learned as children and largely unused in later life. They never learned a language as an adult they way my husband and I have. Milestones that are significant to us are just white noise to them: I read a novel in my second language. I had a conversation with someone who didn’t know I was foreign. I taught a class in the second language. I came up with an awesome bilingual play on words that will lose all humor if I translate it. You know, that kind of thing.
They aren’t opposed to us speaking another language, but I think that on a basic level they don’t get it. It’s an experience they don’t share. They support us in our desire to raise our daughter speaking both her heritage languages, but it leads her somewhere they can’t follow. The same place her parents have gone before her. I think they feel this to some degree, but I know they don’t realize the extent of it.
I don’t mean that we adults need coddling for every accomplishment we make in our new world. We can share those things with others in similar circumstances. And how many of us have had that same experience, that we fit in best with other multilinguals, other third culture adults, regardless of language combinations? Learning a new language changes you, in predictable and unpredictable ways. The specific languages you speak shape who you are, the way you think about the world, the way you categorize things. The simple fact that you speak more than one shapes you as well, teaching you that not everyone thinks the same way. It doesn't change your whole personality, but it adds a side of you that is only really accessible in that language. A child raised multilingually grows up thinking all these things are natural and normal - what a wonderful gift to our children!
But now we are talking about a child and her grandparents. Grandparents who only understand part of what she can say and what she can do. Who have the persistent idea that her babble at 1.5 or 2 years old is actually fluent conversation in the other language, and feel left out that she doesn’t speak their language so well. Or, other times, thinking she can’t talk at all because they don’t recognize half her vocabulary and so don’t realize it’s there. Who can’t join in when she talks about her favorite song or cartoon character from the other language. It’s not exactly the end of the world, but it is there. Without learning the other language, they simply can’t be included in all aspects of her life. She, like her parents, is a whole person her grandparents don’t fully know, and they don’t know they don’t know it.
Don’t get me wrong: Baby K’s grandparents adore her and think she’s a genius, just like proper grandparents should. And I think this will improve some as she learns to communicate better in both languages and learns that you have to speak THIS way to Babka but THIS way to Grandmama. Of course, we are making every effort to make sure our child’s grandparents will be part of her life and that she will speak each of their languages fluently, which I suppose not all families do.** But it is still a little sad when they don’t respond to what she’s said because they don’t understand, and she doesn’t know why.
And for the rest of her life, there will be a part of her that her grandparents don’t know, and it is our fault, for moving between worlds the way we do, for not choosing just one, and for creating a sweet American-Slovak child who moves between worlds, too, who thinks everyone has a Mama and an Apo (not a Daddy) and who lives in a country far, far away.
I may not regret it enough to change any of my decisions (oh, never), but I do recognize the cost. I do.
* We have a whole shelf of dictionaries at home: English-Czech, English-Slovak, Slovak-French, English-Spanish, all sorts of combinations. In the end it turns out we never use any of them because it is too easy to turn to the other and just ask. Or I like to use the dictionary function at www.seznam.cz for a fast and dirty thesaurus.
** Actually, I know not all families do. My father-in-law has a son from his first marriage who lives in America and whose only son does not understand Slovak. So I think my in-laws are quite happy with us for teaching our child Slovak, and with me for not stealing their son away to my country. When we had been married a few years and I STILL hadn’t stolen him away from them, I think they relaxed a little about having a foreign daughter-in-law, haha.
---
One particularly geeky Christmas several years ago, the Slovak and I got each other dictionaries* for Christmas, totally by coincidence. I got him an Oxford dictionary for English speakers (i.e. not a translation dictionary) and he got me essentially the same thing in Czech. We were both pumped about our gifts and amused by our parallel thinking. When our parents asked us what we got each other for Christmas, though, both sides had the same reaction: fake smiles and “Oh, how…romantic”. So we explained that no, it’s a great gift, really, and they nodded doubtfully.
But it highlighted a critical element in our relationship with our families, one that takes on new dimensions now that we have a child. My family speaks only English. My husband’s family speaks Slovak and some Hungarian, learned as children and largely unused in later life. They never learned a language as an adult they way my husband and I have. Milestones that are significant to us are just white noise to them: I read a novel in my second language. I had a conversation with someone who didn’t know I was foreign. I taught a class in the second language. I came up with an awesome bilingual play on words that will lose all humor if I translate it. You know, that kind of thing.
They aren’t opposed to us speaking another language, but I think that on a basic level they don’t get it. It’s an experience they don’t share. They support us in our desire to raise our daughter speaking both her heritage languages, but it leads her somewhere they can’t follow. The same place her parents have gone before her. I think they feel this to some degree, but I know they don’t realize the extent of it.
I don’t mean that we adults need coddling for every accomplishment we make in our new world. We can share those things with others in similar circumstances. And how many of us have had that same experience, that we fit in best with other multilinguals, other third culture adults, regardless of language combinations? Learning a new language changes you, in predictable and unpredictable ways. The specific languages you speak shape who you are, the way you think about the world, the way you categorize things. The simple fact that you speak more than one shapes you as well, teaching you that not everyone thinks the same way. It doesn't change your whole personality, but it adds a side of you that is only really accessible in that language. A child raised multilingually grows up thinking all these things are natural and normal - what a wonderful gift to our children!
But now we are talking about a child and her grandparents. Grandparents who only understand part of what she can say and what she can do. Who have the persistent idea that her babble at 1.5 or 2 years old is actually fluent conversation in the other language, and feel left out that she doesn’t speak their language so well. Or, other times, thinking she can’t talk at all because they don’t recognize half her vocabulary and so don’t realize it’s there. Who can’t join in when she talks about her favorite song or cartoon character from the other language. It’s not exactly the end of the world, but it is there. Without learning the other language, they simply can’t be included in all aspects of her life. She, like her parents, is a whole person her grandparents don’t fully know, and they don’t know they don’t know it.
Don’t get me wrong: Baby K’s grandparents adore her and think she’s a genius, just like proper grandparents should. And I think this will improve some as she learns to communicate better in both languages and learns that you have to speak THIS way to Babka but THIS way to Grandmama. Of course, we are making every effort to make sure our child’s grandparents will be part of her life and that she will speak each of their languages fluently, which I suppose not all families do.** But it is still a little sad when they don’t respond to what she’s said because they don’t understand, and she doesn’t know why.
And for the rest of her life, there will be a part of her that her grandparents don’t know, and it is our fault, for moving between worlds the way we do, for not choosing just one, and for creating a sweet American-Slovak child who moves between worlds, too, who thinks everyone has a Mama and an Apo (not a Daddy) and who lives in a country far, far away.
I may not regret it enough to change any of my decisions (oh, never), but I do recognize the cost. I do.
* We have a whole shelf of dictionaries at home: English-Czech, English-Slovak, Slovak-French, English-Spanish, all sorts of combinations. In the end it turns out we never use any of them because it is too easy to turn to the other and just ask. Or I like to use the dictionary function at www.seznam.cz for a fast and dirty thesaurus.
** Actually, I know not all families do. My father-in-law has a son from his first marriage who lives in America and whose only son does not understand Slovak. So I think my in-laws are quite happy with us for teaching our child Slovak, and with me for not stealing their son away to my country. When we had been married a few years and I STILL hadn’t stolen him away from them, I think they relaxed a little about having a foreign daughter-in-law, haha.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Conversations
On crowded public transport:
K: Hi peoples! Hi everybodeee!
*crickets chirp as no one reacts*
Me: K, here you have to say ahoj lidi [hi people]
K: No, I want hi! Hi peoples!
***
On playground or in town, often:
K: Hi, I Katie. What you name?
*crickets chirp as no one reacts*
Why she has chosen now to call herself “Katie” (she usually calls herself “Katka”, the CZ/SK version of her name) I do not know. It must be conditioning from attending nursery in UK.
***
On the playground, climbing up stairs with friend:
K: Three, four six, three, four, six...seven!!!!
Friend repeats
Mother: Ty se učíš počítat anglicky, jo? [You're learning to count in English, are you?]
Me: Well, sort of...
***
Me: Excuse me miss, what is your name?
K: Katie.
Me: Really, I thought your name was Katka?
K: I Katka.
Me: Are you Katie or Katka?
K: I Katie a Katka.
Me: Yes, you are Katie and Katka.
***
K misbehaves, Apo counts to three in warning:
Apo: Raz, dva… [one, two…]
K: No three, Apo! No three!
***
Our apartment:
Repairman asks for a whisk broom. I can’t find one and ask what it is to make sure I’ve understood correctly what he wants (I have).
Later, repairman asks for an extension cord. I have to ask what he means, since I’ve never heard the word. (Vocabulary fail, I am suitably embarrassed.)
Repairman says he is Czechoslovak and what am I? I say American. He expresses surprise as he thought I was Slovak. I am even wearing Slovakia t-shirt.
So, is this a bilingual win or bilingual fail? Fail: my subpar Czech vocabulary made him ask where I’m from. But win! Up til then he thought I was Slovak! Which is not that far from Czech in fact.
K: Hi peoples! Hi everybodeee!
*crickets chirp as no one reacts*
Me: K, here you have to say ahoj lidi [hi people]
K: No, I want hi! Hi peoples!
***
On playground or in town, often:
K: Hi, I Katie. What you name?
*crickets chirp as no one reacts*
Why she has chosen now to call herself “Katie” (she usually calls herself “Katka”, the CZ/SK version of her name) I do not know. It must be conditioning from attending nursery in UK.
***
On the playground, climbing up stairs with friend:
K: Three, four six, three, four, six...seven!!!!
Friend repeats
Mother: Ty se učíš počítat anglicky, jo? [You're learning to count in English, are you?]
Me: Well, sort of...
***
Me: Excuse me miss, what is your name?
K: Katie.
Me: Really, I thought your name was Katka?
K: I Katka.
Me: Are you Katie or Katka?
K: I Katie a Katka.
Me: Yes, you are Katie and Katka.
***
K misbehaves, Apo counts to three in warning:
Apo: Raz, dva… [one, two…]
K: No three, Apo! No three!
***
Our apartment:
Repairman asks for a whisk broom. I can’t find one and ask what it is to make sure I’ve understood correctly what he wants (I have).
Later, repairman asks for an extension cord. I have to ask what he means, since I’ve never heard the word. (Vocabulary fail, I am suitably embarrassed.)
Repairman says he is Czechoslovak and what am I? I say American. He expresses surprise as he thought I was Slovak. I am even wearing Slovakia t-shirt.
So, is this a bilingual win or bilingual fail? Fail: my subpar Czech vocabulary made him ask where I’m from. But win! Up til then he thought I was Slovak! Which is not that far from Czech in fact.
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