Breaking the Language Wall
May 13, 2016
What is the hardest and the most common thing happening to exchange students? What is it, sometimes making us take the wrong medicine, go the wrong direction, get confused on a test or feel as an outsider in a loud company?
Two simple words, making everyone around you speak faster, pronounce everything you’ve learned before in a different way, and use these weird “inside jokes” as a part of a conversation. Those two words: language barrier.
The most common joke for any exchange student is “smile like you understood and hope it was not a question.” And it’s understandable, because the language barrier doesn’t always disappear, even towards the end of the year. Sadly, a lot of people I know do not understand how hard it is for me as a person, whose native language is not English, to sometimes pick up on what they mean. I hear a lot of “don’t worry,” “forget about it” and “you won’t understand anyway.” Claiming that I came to their country and, therefore, have to speak their language, people typically are not eager to help me understand.
This is why on Friday, May 7, I decided to protest and conducted an experiment, trying to show people that usually surround me how hard it actually is to understand their intentions if the language comprehension is standing in the way. I decided to speak my native language only first through seventh periods, using my English only for class-related topics and speaking Ukrainian even to the teachers.
At first, reactions were different, but had some common patterns. I tried not to force my talking and so mostly talked to people who I talk to every day. The first reactions? Seventeen people said, “What are you saying?” or just, “What?” Seven asked me to stop, and intonations varied from asking to commanding. Six spoke other languages back to me (Spanish & French). Five people said, “Speak English,” while three people asked me if it’s my way of getting used to my old language since I’m close to going back home. One person replied with “I like it,” and the other one said “I’m not gonna talk to you” and actually decided to move to a different lunch table.
The experiment was hard not only for others, but for me as well. For example, sometimes it was really hard to explain what exactly I meant, and no matter how hard I tried it just wouldn’t work. I quickly realized it’s a lot easier to use charades so I could at least shape my thought into a blurry generalized idea and therefore at least show my mood. People quickly learned Ukrainan “yes” and “no,” and as some of them took understanding me as a challenge–we spent a lot time playing the “yes or no” game, until they understood. In the most desperate situations, I would draw or show pictures from the Internet.
Do I think it impacted others? Yes. Even though it didn’t push some of the people into thinking about the idea of the language barrier between us, it did push others. They also heard my native language, which they might never hear again. I also heard a couple of regrets about the fact that they do not know other languages, and I hope these people will try learning something new.
Do I think it impacted me? Yes. How? Well, first of all, I achieved what I wanted. I saw sincere human emotions towards an unexpected situation. I saw them laugh, get irritated, confused, even angry. I also, probably, broke my brain, because since Friday and until today I still sometimes hear English and answer in Ukrainian.
Would I ever do it again or encourage other exchange students do it? Absolutely. Would I encourage American students to practice their Spanish or French and speak to everyone in only a foreign language for one day? Of course. Would I just encourage people to be creative in general and not to be afraid of putting themselves in someone else’s shoes? Sure.
To me, understanding that everyone else sees this world not like you do and trying to twist the angle of your view for it to match with someone else’s, even for a day, is a key to that person’s heart. Get those shoes on and walk a mile, see what happens to your life.