An Adventure in Circumlocution

 For how long have you ever sustained a conversation in Spanish (or your second language)? I had never thought about this until more than 20 years ago when I found myself in a day-long marathon of a conversation. How I ended up in that situation is a story in itself.


A couple of years after college and less than a year before I started grad school I heard an ad on the only Spanish-language radio station in the area announcing they were looking for bilingual sales reps for the station. Now, I had no interest in actually doing any selling, nor am I any good at it, in any language, but did that stop me? Goodness no. What did interest me was this open invitation to speak Spanish in a non-social setting, so I went. At the designated time I arrived at the station and there was instructed to wait until called to the meeting. There were few people there in the waiting area but one, a large man was speaking Spanish with a lady who worked there. As I listened I was struck by his accent, surely Venezuelan. It was an intuitive reaction, perhaps wishful thinking since just 3 years earlier I had been there to visit my then boyfriend/fiance. Compelled to speak up, I went over to him and asked in a natural tone that showed an intent to bond with him, “ ¿Tú habla' e'pañol?” followed by “¿De dónde ere'?” purposely dropping my s's. My 'presentimiento' was right. He was from Venezuela and as it turned out, from the same city as my former boyfriend where I had spent 2 weeks. We talked up a storm about his country giving me a chance to not only reminisce with him about local culture and geography but also to feel more like 'su paisana' than simply a non-native speaker who can communicate and happened to have been to an area tourists don't usually frequent. We hit it off and I offered to show him around town the following week since he had just moved here and didn't speak English.

After about 5 or 10 minutes, we were called to a conference room for what I thought was a group interview. Actually it was more of a meeting to inform us about what the job would entail. It seemed there were no real requirements and it would be commision only all of which made it less appealing even to just listen to in Spanish. I got bored very quickly and my blood sugar was dropping and so I had my excuse to duck out of there. I was ready to leave anyhow because I had already gotten what I came for.

A week later, my new friend and I got in touch and agreed to meet for a tour of the city. We started out in the morning around 9. I had been looking forward to it since I had mentioned the idea to him. I began by giving some background about the area and its general demographics and features of the area. So far so good, even though I found that I had to circumlocute (talking your way around the vocabulary you don't know by using what you do know) more words than I expected, —until about 20 minutes into the conversation when my lack of precise vocabulary and constant circumlocution literally had me out of breath. I started hyperventilating. I had to stop talking and roll down the window, take some deep breaths and relax some 15 to 20 minutes before I could resume my informal and spontaneous presentation. When I did, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be spending the rest of the day circumlocuting and prepared myself psychologically for it. However, my confidence in being able to describe my city had eroded away so I gave up on the idea that my vocabulary was broad enough for this day-long task. By the end of the day, I felt that although I had ran a linguistic marathon, I had gained a type of stamina and confidence to make it through a day without tiring from circumlocution.

A Numbers Game or How I Made the Most Out of Living in an Area with a Small Spanish-speaking Population

People tell me I’m lucky to be in Florida because there are many Spanish speakers here. Well, yes and no. Yes, there are large numbers of Hispanics here (assuming they speak Spanish as well, although that’s not always the case) but they are not evenly distributed throughout the state. The largest concentration of Hispanics are in the bigger cities like Miami and Orlando. My town is much smaller and the percentage of Hispanics in my county according to the 2010 census is about 8% and almost 23% in the state as a whole. When I came to this area from Miami 30 years ago it was significantly less. Ironically it was back then, and in the years before the Internet, that I got most of my speaking practice. At that time I was making the most of the opportunities around me, mostly through international classmates and networking with friends. But their mere existence was not enough to guarantee the chance to hear and speak the language. For one, no one knew I was capable of sustaining a conversation until I did something about it and spoke up. Even when my best friend in college (a non-native major like me who had a similar level but had many social contacts) introduced me to her friends in Spanish, specifying to them that I could speak the language, I was still addressed in English. I quickly learned that I had to prove my ability to handle myself in a conversation by switching to Spanish and then sustained use of the language as a means of insisting on my preference. It most always worked.


Today, even though the numbers have increased dramatically, I no longer actively seek to have contact with the local Spanish-speaking community and consequently have fewer face-to-face encounters in the language. But what remains the same is the fact that in general, the Spanish speakers here also speak English and are integrated into the community and not marginalized. Because of that, if I want to use Spanish, I have to be the one to initiate the switch otherwise my interlocutor will go on obliviously in English. I have come to realize through my experiences that the number of speakers in an area doesn’t tell the whole story. If I hadn’t been a college student back when I was looking for people to speak with, I might have never even known there were any since I wouldn’t have been traveling in those circles. And even in Miami, a bilingual city, for all intents and purposes, I was not addressed in Spanish, a social reality that has not changed despite becoming fluent. Switching languages, for whatever purpose, falls to me. In the end, no matter how many Spanish speakers there may be in an area, the key is, in my humble opinion, making the most of the situation and hopeful becoming involved in the community so that through social contacts you can increase your language opportunities.

Whom Do You Talk To In Your Second Language?

I used to talk to anyone when I was learning Spanish. Every Spanish speaker was potential practice. Although I never said anything like “I’m learning Spanish will you talk with me?” , I would either look for an excuse to approach a person or sometimes in social settings, I’d go up to people and ask “¿Tú hablas español?” just the way I had seen native speakers do amongst themselves when they wanted to connect with other Spanish speakers. I too wanted to engage in this kind of cultural and linguistic bonding. It usually worked; I made friends and got natural ‘practice’ out if it and consequently, more confidence in speaking.


These days, I’ve become more selective about whom I choose to address in Spanish. I don’t need ‘practice’ per se, and the type of motivation I had in the past has been fading. I came to realize this just a few weeks ago when I went to an auto parts store to pick up a part for my husband who was repairing his truck. When I got there, I saw that one of the employees was bilingual (next to his name tag, it said “También hablo español”). I thought for a minute about asking for the part in Spanish but I decided against it. It would be weird, that is, awkward, socially, and there was no reason for both of us to use Spanish. English would have been the assumed preferred language because we are in the U.S. and Spanish is a minority language here in my area. I also imagined that employee would assume I preferred English and was simply practicing the language and in reaction to that would more than likely just switch to English. I figured the inertia to overcome that situation wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Besides the issue of negotiating the most efficient language to use for the transaction, there was no possibility of cultural camaraderie so I just used English.

Under what circumstances would you speak to someone in a naturalistic setting (not a learning situation where both you and the other person are in the role of student and teacher, respectively)? I invite all my readers to share their stories!

My Accent in Spanish

I’ve been obsessed with my accent for many years. I have been told it’s neutral and that that’s good because it shouldn’t be regional sounding. No one, for the most part, beyond a few initial phrases, takes me for a native speaker, although I do seem to pass for a heritage speaker despite the fact that my looks often override everything that comes out of my mouth. Online, people I’ve just met, without being able to see me, often tell me I sound like a native, although not from their country, but nonetheless, that’s the biggest compliment I could get and it’s very satisfying. Considering the fact I’ve acquired the sound system in the U.S. (through the Cuban community in Miami) in late childhood and have never lived for an extended period out of the country, I have plenty to be proud of. However, the concern about my accent has persisted until recently.


A few months ago, in a conversation with my husband, I came to realize that my situation isn’t as unique or particular to a non-native in the U.S. as I thought. My husband, who is originally from Colombia has been here a long time now without regular contact with others from there. In fact, he really only speaks Spanish with me and the Mexicans with whom he works. Over the years he apparently has lost his Colombian accent from being in a country where one gets exposed to a variety of accents. No one can tell where he is from, even Colombians, who have a hard time believing he was born and raised there.

So, if a native speaker who was brought up in the language can no longer be recognized as a member of his ‘own’ speech community because of prolonged contact with a variety of other accents, I shouldn’t feel bad about my own perceived shortcoming.

The Linguistic Loyalty of Non-Native Speakers

     As non-native speakers who come to the language without the cultural influence of family, it isn’t unusual for us to develop a special affinity for a particular country and its way of speaking (accent, regionalisms, etc.).  Sometimes it’s that first contact through traveling abroad, an inspirational teacher, a close friend or sweetheart that becomes a window on another culture and its sounds.  My orientation started out quite naturally towards Cuban Spanish, since I grew up in Miami but I didn’t stay long enough in that city for it to become complete.  I moved away before I gained fully fluency but the sounds of that pronunciation took hold early on.  After that in Central Florida, it seemed every couple of years another region influenced me.  Next it was Venezuela, a country I “adopted” for a stretch of 10 years, later Puerto Rico, Nicaragua and Colombia, each one important because of friends or loves.  Such natural exposure to different regionalisms during my college years allowed me to explore the lexical richness of the language and learn to understand highly colloquial language from diverse areas.  I didn’t think much of it until one day I found myself chatting with some Latin American students at the school where I was teaching ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages).  Then it all hit home.

      After classes were over, a small group of students were still on campus, chatting as they waited for a ride home.  They knew me, although not very well, and that I spoke Spanish and as I passed by engaged me in their conversation.  The topic soon turned to vocabulary differences among their countries- Venezuela, Colombia, Puerto Rico and Honduras.  They took turns asking things like, ‘What does ….mean in your country?  Do you say…?’  Then they would comment on its usage or acceptance in their own place of origin.  No one asked me directly but I was able to participate in a different, more passive way.   For just about every word anyone said, not only did I know the meaning of it, I also reacted at the same time and in same way as the representative of that country did (except for Honduras).  They noticed that and it would confirm for them my understanding and use of their language.  Most all of the words were slang, colloquial or vulgar.   But the interesting thing about this conversation was how it felt at an emotional level as I bonded linguistically first with one person, then another, but not all of them at once.  It was as if a piece of my soul was yanked out to stand next to one person in linguistic solidarity with them, feeling for a moment like their ‘paisano’, then pulled in a different direction to stand with another and back to my ‘neutral’ corner inside myself as both outsider and knowledgeable observer when a word carried no emotional weight for me.  Words like ‘chévere’ used by most of the group, including myself, let me fit in with the majority and not feel like I had to choose sides, but when it came to a phrase like ‘estar arrecho’, with distinct meanings, for the most part, in Venezuela (molesto) and Colombia (horny), it was a strange sensation of being in two places at once emotionally yet feeling psychologically like one should take precedence over the other.  In the end, the Colombian meaning won out because it had been years since I had regularly used the word in the sense Venezuelans would give it and now because of my Colombian husband, it had a much more immediate impact. 

      When I have thought back on that conversation, I was pleased to know that I had fully internalized these words or phrases to the point that I reacted simultaneously with the native speakers whose regionalisms I was familiar with.  However, it did cause me to wonder about issues of linguistic identity that didn't seem easily resolved and that I continue to ponder.

    

A Day of Immersion in Miami

On a couple of occasions I have taken former students of mine to Miami for a full day of Spanish practice.  I got started doing this after discussions with classes about field trips and going abroad.  What better place than Miami for a taste of Latin America without leaving the country?  However, I only took people who had had at least 2 semesters of study because true beginners would be even more overwhelmed and not get that much out of it.  I was hoping to further motivate these students by sharing a small part of what I knew of the language and culture and letting them experience some of it themselves.
      The week beforehand, I went down, planned my route, made some arrangements and recorded some of the most popular songs of the moment for them to listen to on the way for ambiance and to learn some phrases by singing along with the chorus (I printed the words out).  On the itinerary were a tour of Little Havana, stops at a Cuban bakery, a Cuban restaurant, a Colombian bookstore, a Latin supermarket (suggested by the 2 ladies I took on this trip), and a Colombian café.  I was very organized - everything planned down to the minute.  I thought it would go exactly as expected.  The morning began with excitement and anticipation.  At 7 am sharp, I picked up my passengers at their house.  It was too early in the morning for salsa music so I held off on using the tape I made.  There wasn't much conversation because of their limited Spanish but I stuck to my promise to not speak English (even if they did).  We ended up using repetitive questions like ¿Quieres? or  ¿Te gusta?.   But no matter.  Repetition is good, right?  By the time we got to Miami, we were a bit hungry, so first stop-a bakery for Cuban coffee. I figured I would have to order but since they knew the numbers I was hoping they'd listen for our ticket number.  Not this time around.  No, this wasn't going to be linguistic at all.  This was my first indication that I had taken this cultural familiarity for granted.  While I was ready to order and eat they seemed to be entranced by another world infused with it's own exotic sights and smells.  "What's this?" they asked, peering into the glass case filled with unfamiliar looking sweets.  "What are you going to get?"  "What do you recommend?"  They sat back and watched it all unfold in front of them.  I got the feeling they were experiencing sensory overload.  I got them café con leche, pastelitos de queso y otros de guayaba.  They did say they enjoyed the food without much more commentary, so I left it at that.  We were already on  Calle Ocho the main artery through  La Pequeña Habana, and site of an annual festival every March, which was the next leg of our tour.  This part was mostly for its visual impact of seeing most store names and signs in Spanish, ending with a quick drive by Máximo Gómez Park, also known as Domino Park. 
     Now we were on our way to the bookstore.  I chose the place, primarily because the owner, whom I had become friendly with over the years, would be open to having Spanish-language learners attempt to speak with her.  When we got there, I introduced everyone, she greeted them warmly with a customary kiss, then launched into a conversation about how they were enjoying the local weather.  Being greeted with a kiss by a stranger, albeit a woman, took them slightly by surprise, but they went with the flow.  However, the Spanish went right over their heads and relied on me to communicate for them.  The small, compact store intrigued them as they started to wander around.  One shelf label caught their eye:  Literatura latinoamericana.  "Professor, why doesn't it say 'española'?"    I explained how that word would refer to something from Spain exclusively.  That's when I realized that the little things I have always taken as a given were completely new, 'foreign', if you will, from their monocultural point of view.  This was supposed to be, after all, the whole point of venturing down to Miami but I hadn't ever, up until that moment, seen what was completely normal to me, through the eyes of someone who was only familiar with American (USA) culture.  There were more cross-cultural differences and misunderstandings to come.
     It didn't take long for them to have their fill of browsing in one place.  They wanted to go exploring the other shops and eateries, all Latino, down the long strip mall that the bookstore was a part of.  Sure, I thought-why not?  There's plenty to see.  As they were about to walk out the door, I heard, "Say bye to your friend for us."  Little alarm bells went off in my head.  What?  You can't do that, I said.  You have to say good-bye personally, was all I could get out of my mouth, but they were gone.  A bit embarrassed and feeling like I had been left holding the bag, I went to the owner and apologized that they left.  I began to feel like a cultural ambassador.  First I explained their cultural viewpoint; she was of course, graciously understanding.  Then, sensing a teachable moment, I went outside to find the ladies to explain to them the importance of  returning and saying good-bye 
     If it was only that simple.  Now, a new snag presented itself.  Outside, I didn't see them.  Could they have gone into a store?  But which one?  There were more than a dozen.  I started to panic. This was the same summer that Chandra Levy had disappeared.  While we weren't in a particularly dangerous area-I wouldn't have gone- but they were tourists, didn't speak the language or know the local culture and could get into trouble. Just a minute had gone by when they emerged from a shop nearby.  I called them over.  As we were beginning to talk about returning to the bookstore, a suspicious looking man approached us.  My concerns about my guests were heightened.  He spoke to them in Spanish, quickly switched to English, trying to engage them in conversation and apparently asking for money.  My instincts were to dismiss him and get away but they made small talk for a few moments but since none of us showed interest in continuing or giving him anything, thankfully, he left on his own.  It took about 10 minutes to explain about polite greetings and leave-takings, but they understood and we all went back to the bookstore and said our good-byes and thanked the owner for her hospitality. 
      Still on schedule, we headed for the Cuban restaurant I had in mind.  It is a very popular place but I didn't count on it being so packed, not to mention there was unexpected road construction on the corner, making it difficult to get in and out of the parking lot.  Switch to plan B- another nearby local restaurant chain, less formal and less crowded at any given hour of the day.  I was still full from the morning's pastry but they were ready for a bite to eat.  My best option was just a cup of caldo gallego.  They each ordered a sándwich cubano.  When it arrived, I couldn't figure out why they were surprised at its large size, as they considered it.  I guessed that's why they could only eat half of it.   We took our time, lingering over our meal, then a new question to think about:  "How come they haven't brought us the check?"  Mmmmmm.  This was interesting to me on a couple of levels.  Certainly this is not usual in the U.S., especially in casual places like this but we were not in a hurry so I was struck by their comment.  Were they ready to go?  Did they think the service was bad because of this?  I explained the custom and differences in viewpoint in both cultures, which they appreciated and found eye-opening.  I realized they were learning the kinds of things I had hoped they would. 
     After this, we then went on to a Latin supermarket.  It was a request my passengers had made the week before.    The place was bustling with activity.  Spanish was floating all around-easily overheard conversations, people ordering from the butcher, announcements about specials over the speakers.  They strolled down the aisles observing the tropical produce on display, the labels and signs in Spanish, imagining what it all meant.   Just about everything there was from Latin America- common foods, popular brands, but still recognizable by its name or packaging- until they came across bags of mate.  I knew about it but had never actually tasted it, but still I could give them an idea.  After a half an hour of wandering around, they were ready to move on to the last stop- a Colombian café.
     I had met the owner some time before and would usually drop by to say hi to her whenever I was in Miami.  It was a kiosk separate from the adjacent shopping center, with its own little patio, white plastic tables (with built-in umbrella for shade) and chairs for seating.   We just plopped our tired selves down to take a breather while we waited for her to come over and say hi.  I introduced everyone.  Aside from "Hola, ¿cómo estás?" that was the extent of interaction in Spanish between the two parties.  Since my friend didn't speak much English, and my former students equally limited in Spanish, I served as interpreter.  But it was almost 3pm; the day was already over.  Although they had to use some English with me during the day, the mental exhaustion from being semi-mute for eight hours left them feeling worn out and more than ready to head back home.  I couldn't help but sympathize.  I, too, was quite spent from constant driving and still facing another 3 hours on the road.
     On the way back, I mulled over the events of the day, analyzing what had happened, particularly at the restaurant.  I wondered about their reactions and found myself comparing cross-cultural differences from two points of view: that of a learner, experiencing another world for the first time and that of a (Hispanic) culture-bearer observing an outsider.  As I thought about it, I realized  I was seeing where each other's perception lies from a different standpoint.  It was a strange third space I hadn't experienced before- somewhere in between worlds and yet not fully in either.  "Wow", I thought to myself,  "supongo que, como dice la canción de Facundo Cabral, 'No soy de aquí ni soy de allá.'".

Bilingual Weekends in Miami

Today my dad took me to a local Cuban restaurant not too far from the town where I live in Central Florida. We get together every so often to have lunch and since we are from Miami, it's quite often for Latin food. Such meals give us a chance to reminisce about his years living in Southwest Miami and the many weekends I would go to visit him there.  Those times were meaningful in several ways.  Not only did I get to spend a few days relaxing with my dad but I also got to soak up the bilingual environment of his city.  I would let him play tour guide, (I hadn't lived there since I was a teenager) and take me around and he let me play interpreter wherever we went. There was no partying; all our activities were low-key.  Many were the same almost everytime I would go down to visit:  listening to the Spanish-language radio stations most of the way down and back, going to a Cuban restaurant on the Friday night I would arrive, followed by a trip to the nearby Blockbuster store to rent a movie subtitled in Spanish (something I could only do there before DVDs were invented). At his house, I didn't just watch the film and notice the translations, which is fun in its own right. I often picked ones that had lots of legal or technical vocabulary so that I could write down every new word I came across in a notebook I kept for that purpose.  On Saturday I usually went to Spanish-language bookstores looking to add to my collection or say hi to one owner that I knew who was sweet and polite with me.  Other times, I'd comb through the white and yellow pages of the phone book, which was bilingual, for words and phrases about types of business or how to set up phone service.  On one occasion, my dad had gone out of the house to do an errand and left me alone when the phone rang.  A woman started speaking Spanish asking for the owner of the house.  She was apparently a solicitor so I explained that not only did I not live there but that my dad didn't speak Spanish and since there was no sale to be made she excused herself and hung up.  Such occurances are not uncommon.  Neither is receiving bilingual junk mail or trilingual (with Haitian Creole) materials from the county, for example about hurricane preparedness, which my dad would gather and save for me so I could study the translations. Sunday mornings were a treat too.  We had our little routine of going to our favorite Cuban bakery.  My dad would tell me how many pastelitos de queso to order and how he wanted his café con leche so I could then make it clear in Spanish.  It may not seem like much but part of the fun was that this place in particular was very busy and fast-paced so you had to pay attention for your number to be called in Spanish and like most transactions in such places, you have to be able to speak quickly and know what you want.  On the way back to the house, we'd pick up the newspaper and its Spanish edition and then spend the rest of the morning savoring the coffee and pastries while we took our time reading most of the sections of the paper.  It was all short-lived though.  The fun ended around 2 pm so I wouldn't get back to my town too late. Then it was back to what a friend of mine used to call 'the real United States'. As with those memorable weekends, our trip down memory lane over  lechón, yuca, frijoles y tostones was over before we knew it but delicious while it lasted.  My dad moved up to my area a few years ago when he retired. So, even though I don't go to South Florida anymore like I did before, he and I can still enjoy this small part of what used to be my bilingual weekends in Miami.

Maintaining Bilingual Skills in the US

I have heard people tell me that  it's difficult to maintain their language skills because they say they don't live in an area with a lot of Spanish speakers. To a certain extent, I agree, but my contention is that it's not the numbers that count but rather how you make the most of them. Even if you live in an area with a large number of bilinguals, how and how often you interact with them might depend on your skills, and willingness to use them.  In addition, if you haven't developed basic fluency yet, bilinguals are often not the best choice for speaking partners since on average, they are more likely to switch to English rather than patiently wait for you to finish your thought in Spanish.  If you live in an area without an obvious Spanish speaking population, they still may be around but you'd have to seek out the community.  For listening and reading there is no limit to how much you can access especially with the Internet.  Satelite TV providers have Spanish language packages with numerous channels from around the world.  There are also language exchange sites that have real time voice chats like sharedtalk and livemocha.  But there's nothing like interacting face to face with people in person.  I feel that networking is the best way to grow your circle of contacts. You may have friends that speak Spanish (even if they use English with you), and they have family and friends.  Hopefully you get invited to their get-togethers and get to meet others and so on.  If you belong to a church, they may have Spanish language services, which could be good listening practice or a way to meet other people.
The important thing is to have daily contact with the language no matter what form that may take.  In the U.S., where English is the dominant language, you can never get enough listening and speaking practice in Spanish, so dive in and soak up as much as you can!

Looks Can Be Deceiving

When I go into a Latin restaurant or grocery store, I always hope I will be addressed in Spanish, as if everyone could read my bilingual mind but of course why should that happen when I look so "gringa".  In the past I have initiated transactions in Spanish in an attempt to determine the language to be used but my appearance can cause interference and often prompts switching to English on the part of my interlocutor.  Starting in Spanish seemed preferable in that I could have a better chance at controling the language and discouraging the use of English.  Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.  I know that these types of interactions are complex.  What language is used depends on many factors.  I often assume the other person is bilingual because of the demographics of my town but the reverse in never true.  On the contrary, because of the way I look, the burden of proof that I can hold my own in Spanish is on me.  My current strategy is to not force the issue and respond in the same language that I am addressed in.  If it is Spanish, good for me.  If it is in English, I've learned to let it go because most of the time the quality of the "practice" is not worth it, although that's not the point.

I've had many bilingual encounters over the years where language choice was affected by how I and other Spanish-speakers perceived my identity.  Below are some stories about similiar situations I found myself in a few months ago.
My husband asked me to pick up some prepared food for us to share from a local Latin grocery store I go to from time to time.  When I got there I called him on my cell to let him know what was available that day.  I may have spoken to him in Spanish (he's Colombian), but I know I ordered in Spanish.  At the end of the counter, just a few steps from me, was another customer, a woman, observing our interaction.  I moved closer to where she was to pay at the register and she said in unaccented American English:  "I never would have thought you spoke Spanish!"  For once, I took it in stride and told her that I get that comment a lot. We chatted briefly.  Are you Puerto Rican? Yes, from New York, she said, but English is my first language.  Sensing her openness, I told her I was born here in the U.S. too but that I was half-Cuban, partly in an effort to signal membership as a potential heritage speaker.  Of course, it's also a bit of a joke, because I was born in Miami.  She didn't question my comment; she apparently believed it.  My intention was to see if that was possible from her point of view given my accent, fluency and appearance but at the same time to recast those skills as belonging to someone whose family spoke Spanish rather than having learned the language detached from that experience.  In my case I identify more with the former than the latter because of how I acquired it and so, sometimes in trying to express my unique and complex relationship with the language, I find it easier to try to position myself in a conversation as a legitimate speaker.  That's what I chose to do in the exchange described below.

I had already ordered food from the Colombian restaurant where I have a very cordial relationship with the owners and their family.  When I arrived another customer was at the counter to pick up her order.  As she reached for the bag in front of her, the owner's mom who worked there told her in Spanish, that's for Anita (me) and went on to explain that there had been a mix-up and her order wasn't ready yet.  The lady turned to me and translated what was just said in English, probably to be polite.  I responded in Spanish saying that I had understood everything.  The mom quickly added, as she walked to the back of the restaurant, that I was a teacher and spoke the language very well,  implying that was the reason I knew Spanish.  I could see she was constructing an identity for me based on this information, and her previous experiences with others who seem like me:  gringa-studies-goes-abroad-learns-to-speak-becomes-teacher. A disinterested 'ohhh' was the reaction.  Since that categorization does not wholly represent who I am, I decided to offer an alternate identity and represent myself as a heritage speaker.  I told her I was half-Cuban. Again, not to try to be what I'm not but to attempt to explain my background in just a few words and in a way that could make the most sense.  I still got the same reaction; I don't think she cared about any of this.  Although she didn't question my comment I wish she had because then I would know to what extent it was credible.  I had a  temporary satisfaction of finding a sort of niche for myself, nonetheless, I am left with the uneasy feeling of knowing that I continue struggling to come to terms with my identity whether it is of my own making, or one given to me by others.

Press 2 for Spanish

Ahhh, the Spanish option.  It has been for me, a great way to keep my listening and speaking skills sharp.  Although I speak Spanish at home, that is not very challenging-just your usual  "How are you feeling today?" and "What's for dinner?" type of conversation.  From time to time  when I need to speak with a customer service representative, I choose the Spanish option to see how I fare with the rapid-fire speech and having to think on my feet as I describe a technical problem to my satellite provider or the phone company.  But the other day, I found an even better reason to pick the Spanish option.  I needed service through my home warranty company and as is so common these days, I knew I would have to go through a couple of minutes of electronic hoops. But I didn't have the patience at the moment so I decided to press 2 for Spanish and Voila! I was put straight through to a human!   That is probably the best advantage to being bilingual.  Who knew that such a human activity, language, was what could defeat a machine, this time.

Confidence

In my first year of university as a Spanish major, I had made a good friend who like me, had some basic fluency and previous contact with Spanish speakers, especially Venezuelans.  We were ambitious about learning and confident in our ability to make small talk.  One night we had the chance to test just how good it was.  We were invited to an international student party, eager to go to get the practice we always sought out. As we sometimes did when we would go out, we agreed to use only Spanish, unless, the other person didn't speak it.  On this occasion we decided to pretend to be Venezuelans. Part of the reason for this was that we hoped to be addressed in Spanish and not be considered Americans who were simply learning.  It was important for us both socially and linguistically to be viewed as legitimate speakers of the language.  Another reason  was to see if our Spanish was good enough, conversationally, to be taken for native (or having Spanish speaking family).  We were among the first to arrive.  The hostess, an American, asked us where we were from.  We answered - from Venezuela.  She seemed surprised.  Really?  You speak perfect English!  We glanced at each and quietly giggled.  She continued- Those girls over there are Venezuelan too.  I know how much you enjoy talking with your compatriots.  I'll introduce you.  We walked over, introductions made and got the same question in Spanish -Where are you from? -From Venezuela -What city?  -What city are you from?
 -Caracas.  We're from Maracaibo.  We only knew of these 2 cities and we had never been to the country so we had to be from a city they weren't.  Luckily they didn't ask anything else we didn't have answers for.  What seemed no more than a minute more of Q & A and then judgement:  Oh we're sorry, we thought you were Americans.  We thought, Yes!  We're in!  Test over, no more lables.  Now we could just hang out with them for the evening if we wanted to.  They might have been just playing along but we didn't care.  Aside from the fact that we got our practice, we just wanted to feel like we were more insiders than outsiders.

Starting Out in Spanish Part V

Graduate school was a pretty positive experience overall.  I chose Middlebury College's Spanish School, part of their summer language immersion programs.  They require signing a formal pledge to use nothing but the language of the school for the whole summer session even off campus and for graduate students there is the option of four summers on their campus in Vermont or the first summer there and a year abroad in Spain.  This last option was what I chose so I could finish quickly and be out of the country for a longer period of time.  All of this appealed to me also because I wanted to be addressed in Spanish whether I was in the US or abroad.  Up to this point I was aware of how well I could speak and understand by the reactions of native speakers and that was more important, at least socially, than formal assessments by teachers and I had not had any 'level test' either until I applied to this college.  They gave us a comprehensive grammar test before we arrived.  I guessed I did very well because I didn't have to take the required grammar review class for beginning graduate students who were non-native.  I was happy about that but I still wanted to take another kind of class in language that would suit me.  Nonetheless, it was great to hear nothing but Spanish day in and day out and always being addressed in the language by default.  We had a balanced program of language, culture and literature.  In a way it was similar to my undergraduate program but more reading and less linguistic support.  We were really on our own.  That's to be expected and I didn't mind.  I focused all my energy on my course work but also on improving my reading and writing skills.  Speaking and listening were not an issue since I arrived in Spanish with fluent conversational skills.  No doubt, there's something to be said for being able to experience another lifestyle and mindset.  Living there for almost a year was an enjoyable experience.  I didn't feel I acquired more language because I was reaching a plateau where the next step would require a different approach but one class that was very useful was one just on the subjunctive.  It helped me to see it in a different way and to organize it better in my head.  In that same class one of our classmates asked, even though the class wasn't about vocabulary, if the word 'pedazo' was OK to use for 'slice'.  The professor explained that it depended on the thing being sliced.  For bread it would be 'rebanada', a round slice of fruit, 'rueda',  for a piece of pie or something similar, 'trozo', etc.  I was amazed at this.  I only knew 'pedazo' too, but that's all I had heard.  It made me look at words and my own lexicon in a new way.  This same student asked a similar question on another occasion about the word 'handle' as a noun and we got  more words explained by the teacher.  I wrote them down and always wished I could have had this kind of instruction during my studies.  It didn't happen so I found my own solution a couple of years later.
     The year finished quickly and soon my boyfriend in Puerto Rico got me a job teaching English so I went to the island for about 6 months.  I had been there for a week's vacation before leaving for Spain.  I had wanted to fill in the gaps in my general vocabulary for a couple of years but now I became aware of the kinds of words that were new to me and that I thought were important for someone who has an advanced degree.  I didn't let anyone know at the time, but some examples are hose (manguera) and bucket (cubo).  Back on the mainland, my ambition and passion that had always pushed me forward in learning Spanish kicked in again now that I had more free time.   I figured I should read more but this time it wasn't literature but just about everything else-newspapers, magazines, even bilingual labels, manuals, anything.  I read every part of the paper-news, op ed, social announcements, ads, travel, columns, etc.  I went to big stores like K-Mart and Home Depot and read bilingual material and kept a thick notebook noting everything that wasn't part of my active vocabulary.  As I read I kept in mind the register (level of language), phrasing used, given the type of writing or publication and the kinds of combinations of verbs and nouns, nouns and adjectives and verbs and adverbs (collocations).  I collected hundreds of entries and even though I didn't study them per se, I did look over them from time to time just to admire the amount of words I had included.  Little by little I found myself starting to use them in conversations.  Another activity to get exposed to ways of expressing an idea and to learn more vocabulary was to watch American movies with Spanish subtitles (I could only get that in Miami) particularly films that had legal or scientific topics.  My objective was broaden my vocabulary to be able to talk about a greater variety of topics.  Shortly after I started this project, I met the man whom I later married.  He is from Colombia and we spoke only Spanish for many years until his English improved.  Using the language everyday for different purposes stretched my abilities even more.
      Although I have reached a level of comfort with the language, I continue to strive to maintain it and hopefully become more proficient.  Language learning never ends.

Starting Out in Spanish Part IV

I had been waiting for a couple of years since I started college to be able to take nothing but Spanish-no more other courses (even though they were interesting too).  The focus now for me was building on what I had to learn more vocabulary and become fully fluent.  I hadn't really thought yet about what that meant except in the general notion of being able to do anything with the language.  Certainly having a Spanish major would help me get there faster than on my own.  At least that's what I believed. (That is another post.)  I was ready for challenges I knew would be part of my studies.  The concept of lecture classes in Spanish was exciting because we were using the language to learn something else or more language.  It was also satisfying knowing I had 'graduated' to another level beyond review of verb tenses which I had  already mastered.  Of course I still wanted more language classes but this was a small department with a fairly traditional program so after the usual Composition and Conversation classes it was on to lots of literature.  I guess it's a linguistic rite of passage, so to speak, that most language majors go through to get their degree.  Whether or not we have acquired conversational language we get thrown into the deep end of the language pool to learn how not just to swim but to navigate complex texts.  If you survive, you pass, if not, you might change majors.  I made it through at first with a dictionary but like the rest of my classmates we were compelled to abandon that crutch and learn to read without it.  This is very difficult when you are faced with about 50% unknown words that are key to just getting the surface meaning but the professor expects discussion about our interpretation of the piece.  Meanwhile I desperately wanted to learn as much of this new vocabulary as possible for future use but I realized the unspoken message that all vocabulary learning from now on would be our responsibility but that it should come from random words in literary works.  So I did learn things but they didn't include everything I thought was important for saying you had a college degree in a language.  The best part of learning in college for me was listening to the professors' lectures.  It was lots of professional level input.  I asked to tape some of them and on the way home would listen a second time to remember better the content.   Writing papers was fun too.  I enjoyed the research and the process itself and did well on them.  I remember asking native-speaker classmates to proofread my writing and them telling me that parts sounded awkward and not being able to see where or why.  In the end, when I graduated I felt I had gotten the most I could out of the experience and together with daily contact with the language and cultures of Spanish-speaking countries by way of my close friends, (I also went to Venezuela for a couple of weeks to stay with the family of one of them), I was fairly satisfied with what I had accomplished. 
My career goal was to be a Spanish teacher in part because I wanted to teach and also because there was a relatively easy and direct path to get there.  I was very confident that I had the language skills to do so.  However, my first teaching job didn't work out, for non-linguistic reasons, so while I decided what to do next, I went back to Miami for a year and stayed with my dad and took some classes in Interpretation and Translation.  That was interesting but more importantly it was a wake up call to the fact that my vocabulary was sorely lacking.  It forced me to recognize that my conversational skills were not enough to do even a seemingly simple job like answer the phone and transferring calls.  That required something I hadn't thought of before as important-writing down numbers spoken quickly and understanding names that are not the most commonly heard as students.  Later when I came back to my town, another experience allowed me to gauge what I could and couldn't do. 
I met a Venezuelan man who was new in town and didn't speak English, so I offered to give him a day tour of the city.  I thought it would be easy because it would be just conversation and I could circumlocute.  It turned out that circumlocuting was what I had to do since I found myself not having a broad or precise enough vocabulary to describe everything I was trying to say.  After an hour I was mentally exhausted and felt like I physically couldn't breathe.  I took a break for a few minutes then I continued on for the rest of the day and since then  haven't had this kind of problem.  I think it was sheer determination and for the practice I developed some linguistic stamina.  It was becoming clear that I needed to keep learning to get to a more professional level in the language and since I wanted to work with adults, I decided to get my Master's.  Soon a new chapter began in this long journey.  The final part will be in my next post!

Starting Out in Spanish Part III

Now that I was feeling more confident about my listening skills, I continued to push myself, looking for ways to be involved with the language and the people who spoke it in my area.   Over the next few years, I met a handful of international students at my school and some who were studying at the university in town which had a good sized foreign student population.  Even in casual conversations I could notice how they carried their culture with them and picked up on their attitudes towards many things and got a sense of how they viewed their home country and mine.  These encounters weren't everyday but each one was another layer of experience in listening or speaking.  Then  I started upper division classes.  During those last two years of university I also had a couple of  serious boyfriends from Latin American who were here as students.  English was the default language but we would switch back and forth between both and I learned so much language and culture from them directly and indirectly. One thing that I noticed that served as an indicator of what level I was at was that whenever we would talk about something that I thought was important, I prefered English because I wanted to be sure I understood everything.  For casual conversation I felt comfortable using Spanish. That was the relatively easy part to develop because that type of language is common and I sought it out. This skill was solidified by the time I started the advanced classes in university.  I got to practice, for real purposes, a variety of language tasks with the people I knew or met.  Quite often they were situations I had never encountered but perhaps because I was motivated, and had developed skill in circumlocution (using language you know to compensate for what you don't know how to say), I was able to deal with them.  For example, I was once invited to someone's apartment and that person gave me detailed directions in Spanish over the phone.  These kind of experiences gave me a sturdy foundation as I began the more challenging classes in college. 
Now, I was listening to lectures about Spanish history and literature.  It was relatively easy but was more input of a different kind.  So were the Spanish language news reports I 'd listen to on the radio from the city nearby and the salsa and merengue the station played.  Any new song was like a lesson.  After hearing it a couple of times, I learned it the way I would a song in English.  However, this was only if I recognized the words.  There were some I didn't know.   I was also lucky to be taught famous songs and the difficult words in them by my friends.  In this way, I continued to increase my vocabulary through aural input, something I got used to since I originally started in Miami.   So far I was pretty satisfied with what I had learned and thrilled to be advancing in the language through a college major but soon I began to realize that this new stage wasn't quite what I expected.

Starting Out in Spanish Part II

I was just turning 16 when my family moved out of Miami to a small but growing town in Central Florida.  It was my last year in high school and of course I continued on to the Spanish III class.  This new place was in stark contrast with where we came from.  Miami was urban, Latin flavored, high in crime (at the time), sophisticated.  Here it was almost rural, Americana, practically no crime, friendly and laid-back.  Except for one family nearby that was Puerto Rican, there seemed to be no Hispanics.  We joked that we were now in "the real United States".  Despite the outward appearances, there were some Latin Americans that I came in contact with.  Those first few were actually students in my Spanish class.  Most were born in Venezuela and had only been here maybe a few years but spoke English fairly well.  The teacher seemed to emphasize only spelling and written accents with them.  I couldn't imagine anything else they could be taught.  For us, the class was all grammar and vocabulary.  I'm sure that this was basically Spanish in vacuum for the others but I welcomed it because I felt that what I needed to know was how the language worked (grammar), rather than how it sounded or motivation to speak, which came early on for me.  Before moving I had learned present tense, informal commands (which was easy after learning some present tense because I had heard many common commands for years, like, ven (come), dime (tell me), mira (look), oye (listen, hey), present perfect, present progressive and reflexives.  Now I was introduced to all the other tenses and even future subjunctive, with the understanding that it wasn't part of conversational language.  I was able to absorb it all, although I don't know how exactly, but that's part of the reason I'm interested in Second Language Acquisition.  I learned a lot of grammar and even though I couldn't understand the Spanish speaking classmates yet-they spoke very fast as it were- I was confident that it was just a matter of time and more listening and speaking experience.
The following year I started college locally where there were more opportunities to meet international people.  I had already decided to be a Spanish major and eventually a high school teacher. I continued to the next levels without having to start over at the beginning and luckily was able to pick up right where I had left off in high school.  The class I took was 3rd semester Spanish and was a review of grammar.   In that class I made a good friend who had similar interests and background in the language and culture.  We used the language with each other between classes and when we would go out together.  She aslo had contacts with South Americans at the college and introduced me to some of them.  Things were now coming together for me with the language.  For example, one day after the Spanish class in which we reviewing irregular past tenses, like decir (to say/tell), my friend and I started to talk in Spanish about something that had happened the other day.  I found myself saying fluently, without really thinking about it,  "Entonces, que le dijiste?  Que te dijo?  (Pardon the lack of accents)  (So, what did you tell him?  What did he tell you?)  I was conscious that I was "practicing" but for real communication.  I was partly surprised I could do this because I was not taught it directly.  I suppose I acquired (unconscious 'learning') it from the many hours of input I had at the same time I was learning in school.  Sometimes I got to meet people through my friend but most of the time I made small talk with strangers I had heard speak Spanish.  Whenever I saw Spanish, I read; whenever I heard Spanish I listened or spoke if possible. Another thing that helped was the repetition of 'scripts'.  For example, when I met someone they always seemed to ask the same questions such as, What's your name?  Where are you from?  What do you study?  Do you have a boyfriend?  I always knew what to say but the familiarity of actually saying it out loud talking to a new person  helped me to do it a little more fluently each time.  This increased my confidence in speaking. Even though I didn't speak that much I did continue listening to hear natural language.
A turning point came after my first year in college.  I went to visit my dad (parents are divorced) as I did about once a month or two, in Miami where he still lived.  This was a treat since he was in a section with a greater percentage of Hispanics than where I had grown up.  Down there, I had much more access to the language.  There was TV and radio, newspapers, tons of restaurants, cafes, bookstores, nightclubs and other businesses run by and catering to the Spanish-speaking community.  Mostly I just listened to the radio as I had before because I liked the music.  By now, when I listened to the DJ's I could recognize most of the words but wasn't processing them instantly so I missed what they said.  I had been focusing on just the words themselves.  But that weekend I had the idea for some reason to listen to whole phrases and not worry too much about any unknown words.  When I did this, I was able to understand almost everything or at least 80% or so.  It was like a lightbulb went on and I started listening in a different way.
From then on, my learning experiences went in a new direction.
More in the next post!

Starting Out in Spanish Part I

I've been asked over the years by friends and students alike how I learned Spanish or how I got to be fluent. It's a rather long story so I'll post it in parts.
 I started hearing the language at 9 years old when I was growing up in Miami in the 70's.  At that time the Cuban and other Latin American influences were growing but weren't quite what they are today.  The amount of Spanish I heard was limited-not complete immersion.  It was used among the kids in the elementary school, a few in my neighborhood with whom I had contact and on the private family-owned Cuban bus I rode from school to home.  It was mostly just a continuous stream of sounds.  On occasion I could hear a phrase or two that was in context and could figure it out.  There was 'oigo' when answering the phone, 'dale' said to each kid, including me, as we were asked to get on the bus.  Generally speaking, I wasn't addressed or invited to learn it. But I've always been interested in language and other cultures and that natural orientation combined with a deep desire to understand the Spanish speaking kids and fit in with them was my first motivation.  Back then foreign language wasn't really available to learn in a class until high school, not counting the sampling of languages in Jr. Hi.  So for some 5 years I waited still soaking up the sounds of the language, which never sounded 'foreign'; they were just another part of life in Miami. I finally got a chance when I started high school and took a conversational class.  There was Spanish I too, but Spanish Conversation sounded like a better choice and so decided on that one.  After all that's what I thought I wanted.  The class was interesting especially with our teacher, a Cuban-American, who got our attention by doing some antics in first few days.  The content focused on practical phrases and Cuban food words.  We even went on a field trip to Little Havana to a Cuban bakery, ice cream store and then a restaurant to sample what we were learning about in class.  What was significant is that I apparently learned the alphabet , but I don't remember that, it was like I absorbed it, and a few very basic grammar patterns with common verbs. That same year I began pronouncing out loud everything I saw in Spanish-book pages at a friend's house, signs in the Southwest section where my dad lived and there was a higher number of Latins, or whatever came my way.  I also used my limited vocabulary to make small talk with a Puerto Rican friend about things we had in common like music and the Salsa station we listened to.  Listening to the radio became more important now.  I couldn't understand what the DJ said but I got familiar with the songs played and some phrases stood out like the words to the station's jingle. Being exposed to the whole language that was part of the community and not isolated only in a classroom had a positive effect on me and I feel helped move my acquisition along.
The next year I wanted to continue but my only option was Spanish II.  I hadn't had Spanish I, which was a more formal class compared to the conversation one, so I was behind.  I managed to catch up and wasn't too difficult.  It helped to have bought a thick paperback bilingual dictionary (an amazing concept I was glad to have discovered) which I used so much that the cover and some inside pages came off.  The best aspect of the class was that we used part an ALM book (Audio Lingual Method).   This method was in vogue in the 50's and 60's but has since fallen out of favor with the foreign language education community.  One of its central features is dialogs that illustrate grammar and vocabulary of the lesson, followed by various aural / oral exercises to manipulate structures with fluency.  Those exercises worked for me, personally, and gave me a big push towards basic fluency, I believe because I had already heard lots of language and now it was being explained to me how it worked and asking me to try to produce sounds and words I might have heard before.  In my case, I also had the motivation to apply what I was learning to real life situations, re-combining the chunks of language presented to us to make my own sentences.  Since I didn't have direct contact with many Spanish speakers, except casually in school, in my neighborhood and through the media, I didn't have much practice but the grammar I learned in class made sense of what I had heard before I studied the language and so was fairly easy to remember.  This is a bit reversed from what many students experience-learning grammar and vocabulary or rules in class then later having it come together through a trip abroad.  For some reason, even though I hardly used the language, I was able to retain most of what I learned in those first few years of formal study in high school until I started speaking more right afterwards in college.  At the end of my junior year in high school, my family moved a few hours north to a small community in Central Florida.  It may seem ironic, but it was there and not Miami where I interacted  the most with native Spanish speakers.  I'll post the next chapter in this story shortly.
Stay tuned!