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The Egg and “Ei”

by Joyce McGreevy on October 24, 2017

When four teenagers and a writer, Joyce McGreevy, meet in the Volksgarten, Vienna, Austria, they share the fun of speaking two languages. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Finding our voices in Vienna: Catrina, Cedric, the author, Nicky, and Adah. (Oh, and “Albert.”)
© Joyce McGreevy

What Four Viennese Teens Taught Me
About Speaking Two Languages

I was sitting on a park bench in Vienna when they approached me, speaking two languages.

What’s more international than the Volksgarten? An Austrian park in formal French style around a replica Greek temple, it attracts visitors from around the world.

The replica Temple of Theseus at the Volksgarten, Vienna gives a group of visitors an opportunity for speaking in two languages. (Public domain image by Norman Davies)

The Volksgarten (“people’s garden”) blooms with roses and buzzes with languages. 
Norman Davies (public domain)

I’d been thinking about language, about the surprising fact that I’d found it easier to speak Hungarian than German.

Let me explain. One of my travel pleasures is taking language lessons and then practicing every day with native speakers. Picking things up little by little. Savoring the taste of new words.

Permission to Speak

When I did this in cities like Budapest, or countries like Malta, Bulgaria, Greece, and Turkey, native speakers responded with encouragement. It’s not about ego boosting—the nearest toddler could out-debate me—but genuine human connection.

People overlooked flaws in pronunciation, eased me past mistakes, and enriched my vocabulary with the aplomb of chocolatiers proffering boxes of pralines.

Alas, when I spoke German in Austria, native speakers switched to English. Politely, but irrevocably. How to negotiate, to explain that I missed speaking two languages?

So what if I strode in one language, limped in the other? I’d happily hobble along in order to learn.

A street scene in Vienna reminds a writer of the pleasures of speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

I longed to steep myself in another language to the point of dreaming in it. (Vienna)
© Joyce McGreevy

A Wanderlust for Words

I became a silent student of German. I read food labels and environmental text,  listened to opera and watched local news. At a thrift store near Sigmund Freud’s historic apartment, I found a 1970s children’s book and carried it home like it was Mozart’s lost sonata.

Whenever I rode the metro or shared an elevator, my ears fairly twitched like a dog’s toward familiar sounds.

Assorted German-language reading materials inspire a writer in Vienna who misses speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A language learner’s improvised library. 
© Joyce McGreevy

Talking Points

I marveled at close connections and vast gaps between German and English.

I fell in love with the word arbeitslust, which artist Gustav Klimt used to discuss the will, indeed the burning desire, to do one’s work.

But I wasn’t speaking two languages.

It was like viewing a feast, but never tasting it. Maybe there’s a German word for that, too.

Cakes on display in Cafe Demel, Vienna, Austria become a metaphor for speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Cakes on display at Café Demel, Vienna. The sweetness is hidden inside. 
© Joyce McGreevy

Teen Talk to the Rescue

Then I met four Austrian teens on a mission.

Their teacher had sent forth small groups with an unusual assignment: Go to the Volksgarten, find a friendly foreigner, and make a trade using English.

Their teacher was helping her students acquire language functions.

Language functions are specific purposes we address every day: We summarize a movie. We compare and contrast our baseball team’s wins and losses. We greet neighbors and ask questions to get to know them. We persuade a friend to help us move.

A market in Budapest reminds a writer of reasons for speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

We negotiate everything from groceries to relationships. (Budapest)
© Joyce McGreevy

A Good Egg

“What are you trading?” I asked.

“Albert,” they said.

“Excuse me?”

Albert, it turned out, was a total egghead. Hard-boiled, I was assured.

Cedric, Catriona, Adah, and Nicky persuaded me that I would benefit from the trade, because:

  • Albert had purple hair,
  • a nice smile,
  • a pleasing shape,
  • and was very portable.
  • Besides, how often do you meet a purple-haired egg named Albert in a 19th century park in Vienna?

Sure, they might have mentioned that eggs are a reliable source of protein, selenium, and vitamin D. But when the egg in question has a big goofy smile, why go there?

For my negotiation, all I had was a pen. So I told stories about, well, writing stories with it.

And since negotiations entailed that all stakeholders should benefit, I suggested they each use the pen to record English expressions.

“It’s a deal!”

A deal that got sweeter: The teens spoke German with me. Vielen Dank!

People conversing near water in Vienna, Austria become a metaphor for speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Languages reflect our universal impulse to connect.  (Vienna)
© Joyce McGreevy

Trading Ideas

We traded pleasantries and then we traded languages. Like ei for “egg.” And glücklich for “happy.”

Ich bin glücklich, I ventured.

“We’re happy, too,” they said. “This was fun!” When four teens say they’ve enjoyed meeting a woman old enough to be their grandm—uh, mom, that’s a good day.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter who was the native speaker. Only that we were speaking. In two languages.

These confident-looking teens admitted they’d felt nervous approaching strangers to start a conversation. Some folks shooed them away.

As for the trade, anyone who’d been willing to negotiate offered . . . a pen. So why had they accepted mine?

You made it into a story,” they said.  “What about us?”

“You made an egg into ‘Albert.’ An ei into an I.”

An egg character set against a scene of urban crowds becomes a metaphor for the fragility one can feel when speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Feel fragile when speaking two languages? C’mon out of your shell!
© Joyce McGreevy

Oh, I see: We’re all speaking two languages. Words, and whatever gives them meaning. Imagination and negotiation. Curiosity and discovery. Trust and connection.

Is there a word that means “a love of communicating with others”? With practice—and the encouragement of fellow travelers—we just might find out.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

The Paris Wall of Love

by Meredith Mullins on October 16, 2017

Couple in front of the Paris Wall of Love, seeing the many ways to say I Love You. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The many ways to say “I Love You”
© Meredith Mullins

How To Say I Love You?
Let Us Count the Ways

Te amo . . . Sarang Hae (사랑해) . . . Nagligivagit . . . Ég elska pig . . . S’agapo . . . Mina rakastan sinua . . . Phom rak khun . . . Aishiteru (愛してる) . . . Je t’aime . . . Ya tebe kohayu . . . Rwy’n dy garu di . . . Ani ohev otach . . . Ik hou van je . . . Nakupenda . . . Wo ai ni (我爱你)

What does this parade of phrases have in common?

They are all ways to say “I love you”— language gems that are important in today’s world of far too much disaster, violence, mistrust, and hate.

What else do these terms of endearment have in common? They are all words that appear on the Wall of Love in Paris.

Can you guess the languages? (See the key at the end of this story for the answers.)

How to say I love you with love locks on the Paris Post des Arts, another way to say I love you from the Wall of Love. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The glint of metal says “I love you” . . . but there are other ways.
© Meredith Mullins

Saying “I Love You” in the City of Love

Paris is a romantic city. In fact, along with its classic moniker (“City of Light”), it has earned the perhaps coveted title of “City of Love.” (What city wouldn’t want to be the center of love?)

From the thousands of love locks that once glinted on so many of the iconic bridges to romantic trysts on park benches tucked away in garden corners to passionate tango dancing by the Seine, Paris lives and breathes romance.

The Wall of Love (Mur des Je t’aime) is a more hidden tribute—nestled in the Square Jehan Rictus near the Place des Abbesses in Montmartre.

The Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing us many ways to say I love you. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

A secret Montmartre garden with a treasured wall
© Meredith Mullins

The 40-square-meter, blue-tiled wall watches over the greenery of the peaceful park and the locals who choose to sit amidst the quiet.

The wall attracts visitors, lovers, (and selfie addicts) from around the world who either stumble upon it or have heard about this creative treasure and have come in the name of love.

The work is the brainchild of artist Frédéric Baron, a lover of travel, language, and romance. The dream emerged in 1992 as he collected simple statements of “I love you” from his family and neighbors, all from different cultures. Each person wrote his or her “I love you” words on a single page of a notebook.

Bengali way to say I love you from the notebook of the Wall of Love by Frédéric Baron. (Image © Fredéric Baron.)

A Bengali “I love you” from Frédéric Baron’s notebook.
© Frédéric Baron from the Book of “I Love You’s”

As the project grew, Frédéric found more neighbors and friends from different countries, and finally began knocking on embassy doors to explain his vision and collect the rarest of the languages.

“It was a way to go around the world without leaving Paris and its suburbs,” Frédéric noted.

The result was three notebooks filled with more than 1000 ways to say “I love you” in more than 300 languages.

Arabic way to say I love you from the notebook of the Wall of Love by Frédéric Baron. (Image © Fredéric Baron.)

An Arabic “I love you” from Frédéric Baron’s notebook.
© Frédéric Baron from the Book of “I Love You’s”

Frédéric and Claire Kito, an artist and practitioner of oriental calligraphy, collaborated to create the wall in the year 2000, with production assistance from Daniel Boulogne.

The wall is built with 612 enameled lava tiles, reminiscent of the pages of the notebooks. The 311 “I love you” phrases are expressed in 250 languages and dialects— all in white lettering in varying calligraphic styles.

In a 1999 interview, Claire explained that, in Chinese calligraphy, “the hand is guided by the heart.” She wanted to respect the spirit of the person who wrote the words. She wanted to preserve the rhythms and graphic quality of the original writing.

The Paris Wall of Love in Montmartre, showing ways to say I love you in many languages. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Can you find the languages you know amidst the reflections off the shiny lava tiles?
© Meredith Mullins

All the languages of the United Nations are present, as well as languages such as Inuit, Navajo, Bambara (from Mali), Bislama (from Vanuatu), Dzongkha (from Bhutan), and Esperanto . . . to name a few of the lesser known languages.

Interspersed across the blue tiles are fragments of red, which, if brought together, form a heart. The artists intend the wall to be a healing force of love for the too often broken heart of humanity.

Part of the Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing many ways to say I love you in different languages. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

T’estimo . . . Catalan for “I love you”
© Meredith Mullins

Why Build A Wall?

There were as many ways to express this creative concept as there are ways to say “I love you.”

For Frédéric and Claire, the wall was not meant to be the usual symbol of division and separation. It was a way to reunite the world, through the languages of love—a symbol of reconciliation and peace.

Part of the Paris Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing many ways to say I love you in many different languages. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Can you spot the Zulu word for “I love you”?
© Meredith Mullins

The “Oh I See” Hope: Love Will Triumph

As visitors look at the Wall of Love—with so many cultures, countries, races, lives, and languages united in saying “I love you”— a feeling of hope is inevitable.

The Wall of Love is meant to spread this hope . . . and love — “to erase borders and open hearts,” as Frédéric says.

A worthy dream.

Part of the Paris Wall of Love in Montmartre Paris, showing many ways to say I love you in different languages. (© Meredith Mullins.)

Can you find “Ek het jou lief”? And can you guess the language?
© Meredith Mullins

For a free download of Frédéric Baron’s book of “I Love You’s,” click here. 

To see more of Frédéric’s work, go to this site.

For more information about the Paris Love Locks, see this OIC Story.

Answer Key: Spanish, Korean, Inuit, Icelandic, Greek, Finnish, Thai, Japanese, French, Ukranian, Welsh,  Hebrew, Dutch, Swahili, Mandarin, (and for the last image—Afrikaans).

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

14 Ways of Learning a Second Language

by Joyce McGreevy on August 8, 2017

A signpost atop Floyen, Bergen in Norway reflects the idea that learning a second language can take you in new directions. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Learning a language takes you in new directions.
© Joyce McGreevy

Language Tips for Busy People

Research shows that learning a second language is like superfood for the brain. Experts say we’re predisposed to be multilingual. So why do so many smart people think learning a second language is impossible?

Curiously, those who claim linguistic ineptitude often use complex grammar:

  • “Had I understood the benefits of learning Japanese, I would have taken classes.”
  • “If only I could have learned Spanish in high school, I would be fluent today.”

“Oh, I see”: You can learn languages, whatever their complexity, whatever your age, wherever you travel.

A card in London featuring a quotation from Deborah Levy features an inspiring language tip. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

An OIC Moment spotted in a London bookshop.
© Joyce McGreevy

Immerse to Converse?

The ideal way of learning a second language is through immersion. Imagine living among native speakers until, little by little, the unfamiliar language starts making sense. Nearly 5 million kids in the U.S. do this every day. There’s also the “win the lottery, move to Tuscany” school of immersion, but most folks are already immersed in life’s demands.

But suppose you’ve got a vacation coming up. You could stick to English—depend on others to be multilingual—or you could learn at least some of the language.

Here’s how:

1. Practice the Tao of Now. In Peanuts, Snoopy tells Woodstock “I read at least one word a day.” Download an app that will send you “the word of the day” in your chosen language. Poco a poco, le parole diventano frasi.

2. Learn Ps and Qs. Master local versions of please, thank you, and other emblems of respect. Start with the basics, then listen for local variations.

3. Greet the Neighborhood Cats. Too shy to practice new words on people? It’s a little-known fact that cats are multilingual. The next time you meet a friendly feline, greet it in another language. Sure enough, it will demonstrate utter comprehension with an affirming “meow” in the local language. Repeat your greeting until you become comfortable enough to try it out on humans.

A city street in Athens, Greece inspires thoughts of learning a second language. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Admittedly, some Greek gátes are chattier than others. 
© Joyce McGreevy

 A sleeping cat in Athens, Greece is unlikely to offer language tips on learning a second language. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

But all are purrrfectly non-judgmental!
© Joyce McGreevy

4. Get Practical. Most phrasebooks reflect outdated travel norms. In this digital age, few of us need dialogues for making hotel reservations, let alone asking porters to carry our steamer trunks. To update the phrasebook approach, brainstorm what you personally need to know and research that. For me, that includes requesting photocopying services and scheduling a root touch-up.

5. Act Like a Child. In Valletta, Malta, a bookseller pointed wordlessly at the textbooks for learning Maltese. Then I asked her to recommend kotba tat-tfal (children’s books), gesturing toward myself and grinning sheepishly.  With that, her warm personality surfaced. She not only helped me find a local favorite, but shared a wealth of language tips.

6. Picture the Page. Don’t forget comic books, graphic novels, and magazines. Make your own captioned pictures, too. Visual supports mean you’ll need a dictionary less often.

Magazines in Budapest, Hungary offer enjoyable ways of learning a second language. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Do bunnies bring baskets of eggs for the Husvéti menü?
© Joyce McGreevy (in Budapest)

7. Cognates to the Rescue. At a Florentine apothecary, a friend of mine mimed washing his hair because he didn’t know the word for shampoo. Turns out it’s il shampoo. Discover the power of cognates.

8. Sing It. Though it’s hardly a marketable skill, I can sing the theme song from “The Flintstones” in Italian. I also know that Albania borders on the Adriatic. Why? Because I heard the information sung. One time. Years ago. If you can say it, sing it, and you’ll save it.

9. Preempt Translation. Think of grocery stores as 3-D picture dictionaries. The great thing about picture dictionaries is that they help you stop translating. Instead of thinking “the word for apple,” you see a red round object and discover that it’s manzana.

10. Catch on with Context Clues. When my friend Julie visits Irish friends, she doesn’t ask for “milk” in her coffee, she asks for bainne. And she doesn’t always have coffee, sometimes she sips a cupán tae. Just don’t drop a mála tae into your cupán and pour boiled uisce over it. The best tae is brewed slowly in a taephota.

Trays of ice cream with flavors labeled in Croatian suggest a tasty way of learning a second language. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

On a summer day in Zagreb, my favorite Croatian word is sladoled.
© Joyce McGreevy

11. Eat Your Words. If that charming taverna has an English-language menu, chances are it’s limited to bland options. Explore a culture’s culinary language before you ever go abroad, thanks to diverse restaurants and cooking classes in your community. And keep this shortcut handy: Learn expressions equivalent to “favorite local dish” or “something traditional.” What if you have allergies? What if you’re vegan? Download multilingual food-allergy chef alert cards or use a travel app.

12. Repeat, Please. Soap operas are ideal, not only because you get caught up in the conflict, but because they recap plots and repeat expressions. Counter-intuitive language tip: Set subtitles in the same language, not English, and be patient. Once you begin to understand, you’ll retain more of what you learn.

13. Listen in the Laundry. If you do use language audio, include podcasts—many free 5-minute-a-day lessons are surprisingly effective. Put on earphones and turn chore times into learning opportunities.

14, Dare to Air—I Mean, Err. When learning a second language, you’ll make mistakes. But don’t we sometimes make mistakes in our first language? “Oops,” we say, and try again. That’s a good plan for any language.

Discover why being bilingual works wonders for your brain here.  

Access a world of free language-learning resources on Open Culture here.  

Comment on this post below. 

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