frankly, i find it rather...pedantic
i knew that language barriers exist, and i've probably even run into them before, but it's just so disconcerting when they happen. how can you explain a word you use everyday and that you take for granted? it's kind of like the color blue. you can never fully describe it, but you can try.
at the listening party, the french exchange student and i were talking about the austin tradition of going to see the zilker tree. "it's just so fun to spin under it until you're dizzy." i was explaining, remembering the times i've been there. "what is this, 'dizzy'?" she asked. this was the first time she had bothered to ask me what a word meant, though i had known before by her knit brows and polite nod that she wasn't quite sure what i was saying. "um, it's the feeling you get when you spin and spin...like, you feel light-headed...disoriented." i was trying, but i wasn't explaining it properly. brandon later said in the car, "you should have told her that it's when the world keeps spinning even when you're standing still." the perfect explanation.
she had told me once, "at the end of the day, i just want to sit down and be able to speak my own language." and i had a glimmer of an idea of what that's like- always having the mentally exhausting job of rearranging and translating the words in your head as someone quickly spouts them out. she knows that to us, she seems linguistically challenged, and we would unconsciouly think of her as somewhat disabled, when in actuality she is an incredibly intelligent woman. out of our element, we're all limited to our words and how well we utilize them to the people we are at the mercy of.
we listened to her feature shortly after our conversatioin, which was her interviews with several foreign exchange students. inbetween sound bytes, she would speak in french, which was so exotic and exciting to the ear, but everyday for her and so many others. i can understand why people are so excited about language- there's so many nuances and things to learn...words that don't exist in one language are in another, and it's absolutely beautiful. i can't imagine the complexities for translators, or even translators of something as delicate as poetry.
it also makes me think of the anthropological argument of whether or not we are limited by our language. b/c certain words don't exist in a language, does that mean that the concept of the word is impossible for us to express, or even to think about? i'm afraid i don't have any good examples, as it's been a long time since i read that article, but it's an interesting theory to think about. unless we're introduced to this new word or concept through the influence of another culture, i think we really are a bit limited to what thoughts can be expressed. and before we adopt this new concept for our language, a barrier will rise up and fluster those who attempt to explain.
at the listening party, the french exchange student and i were talking about the austin tradition of going to see the zilker tree. "it's just so fun to spin under it until you're dizzy." i was explaining, remembering the times i've been there. "what is this, 'dizzy'?" she asked. this was the first time she had bothered to ask me what a word meant, though i had known before by her knit brows and polite nod that she wasn't quite sure what i was saying. "um, it's the feeling you get when you spin and spin...like, you feel light-headed...disoriented." i was trying, but i wasn't explaining it properly. brandon later said in the car, "you should have told her that it's when the world keeps spinning even when you're standing still." the perfect explanation.
she had told me once, "at the end of the day, i just want to sit down and be able to speak my own language." and i had a glimmer of an idea of what that's like- always having the mentally exhausting job of rearranging and translating the words in your head as someone quickly spouts them out. she knows that to us, she seems linguistically challenged, and we would unconsciouly think of her as somewhat disabled, when in actuality she is an incredibly intelligent woman. out of our element, we're all limited to our words and how well we utilize them to the people we are at the mercy of.
we listened to her feature shortly after our conversatioin, which was her interviews with several foreign exchange students. inbetween sound bytes, she would speak in french, which was so exotic and exciting to the ear, but everyday for her and so many others. i can understand why people are so excited about language- there's so many nuances and things to learn...words that don't exist in one language are in another, and it's absolutely beautiful. i can't imagine the complexities for translators, or even translators of something as delicate as poetry.
it also makes me think of the anthropological argument of whether or not we are limited by our language. b/c certain words don't exist in a language, does that mean that the concept of the word is impossible for us to express, or even to think about? i'm afraid i don't have any good examples, as it's been a long time since i read that article, but it's an interesting theory to think about. unless we're introduced to this new word or concept through the influence of another culture, i think we really are a bit limited to what thoughts can be expressed. and before we adopt this new concept for our language, a barrier will rise up and fluster those who attempt to explain.