In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lazy Learners.”
I’ve always wanted to learn many languages. I dabble and can say a few words in French, Dutch, Taiwanese, Spanish and Sign language. When I travel to a new country, I learn a few simple words, please, thank-you, adding to the richness of travel.
Still, I love the idea of being fluent in many languages. I daydream about travelling the globe and slipping from one language to another effortlessly. I would know when I’m being short changed, could haggle with the best of them, eavesdrop on conversation and know exactly what the locals think. I could order food in a restaurant and know what I ordered, omitting the surprise when it arrives. I can see it in my minds eye and its perfect.
Therein lies the problem. I studied French in school, for five years and although I believed that I repeated the phrases perfectly, my teacher would beg to differ. It seemed that I never could get it perfect for her. I’m reluctant to share my knowledge with anyone about the phrases I know for fear of being figuratively back in French class. This phobia seems to have oozed into all languages. I’m happy to read and write the words and will spell them out to people, awkward for certain, though effective.
Seeing my excuses written down gives me pause. The best part of getting older is that I no longer care what other people think about me. With this in mind, I will take the time to learn another language and have my daydream become a reality. May-be it isn’t too late?