In the late summer of 2002, our family-which at that point consisted of my husband, myself, and our two little boys, moved to Sweden so my husband could pursue a PhD in Physics at a Swedish University. It's a story for another blog post how and why we moved there.
Sweden has many programs to help immigrants, including a free language program for any immigrant. My husband spoke Swedish fluently-yet another topic for a blog post. I, on the other hand, was not fluent in Swedish.It was not strictly necessary for me to learn Swedish. Swedes begin learning English in grade school. They learn to speak fluently and beautifully, with barely a trace of an accent. If you try to speak to someone in Swedish and fumble, they will immediately and effortlessly switch to English. However, speaking English only leaves you forever an outsider, unable to understand the subtleties and nuances that comprise Swedish culture. After we were settled in, I enrolled in Svenska for invandare. (Swedish for immigrants)
Getting to class was an entire production in and of itself. First, my husband worked long hours at his lab. We had to coordinate our schedules so he would get home in time to watch our boys for me to get myself to class. To make life easier, I would prepare fish sticks or meatballs with french fries and it would be ready when he got home. I would race out the door as soon as he arrived to catch the bus.
Learning to use public transport also became part of my challenge. I had never used a bus or train system. We didn't have a car and I didn't have a bike yet because we couldn't afford it. I always get nervous when trying to find a new place and my anxiety was even worse when trying to navigate in a foreign city with a foreign language. I used the Skanetrafiken website to chart my route and then brought my map along with me. I was so scared I wouldn't find the classroom, but I did manage and found a seat.
The class was made of expats from all over the world. Some were there for jobs while others had moved to Sweden because of a girlfriend or boyfriend and were trying to make a go of it, I think I was the only one there with children. Two nights a week we met and practiced speaking and learning new words.
I attended class for several months and stumbled along. Learning a language is really hard. It's hard when you are trying to adapt to a new country and new customs. On top of that, I was parenting two toddlers. I was also expecting our third baby. Now that I look back I don't know when I ever found time to study or even understand what I was learning.
Learning to speak a foreign language means that you have to put aside certain thought patterns and practices and get comfortable with being really, really bad at something for a long time. In many ways, you are like the baby fumbling and mumbling with words. Everything sounds like nonsense when you start to speak and you understand maybe every 20 words or so that people speak. It means making mistakes constantly and dealing with the subsequent embarrassment and frustration. Sometimes it means that people aren't very patient with you as you try to speak or they speak very loudly and slowly to you as if you were stupid. The rhythms and cadences of the music don't feel natural or understandable.
We had a summer break, which was perfect because my baby was born in July. I was getting ready to return to school when life took a serious turn for the worst. A month after my baby was born I got sick and was sick for months. Eventually I was diagnosed with lupus and it took several months to regain my health and adjust my life accordingly.
During that time, I did my best to read Swedish, to participate at church, and speak whenever I could. But it wasn't the same as taking a class. It took me a long time to recover from my lupus flair and regain what I had lost.
A couple years later, I resumed my Swedish lessons through Komvux, which is an adult education center. Again, my husband would race home to watch our children and I would go to class. I biked several miles to class because the bus wasn't always convenient.
This time I worked a lot harder. I studied more and was more diligent in class. I really wanted to learn the language to the best of my ability. I wrote papers and gave presentations. My favorite project was doing a paper and presentation about Swedish food and how that reflected their culture, history, and religion. I know more about that than most Swedes do--even though they follow those same customs that are centuries old.
As I practiced and studied, the melodic lilt of Swedish starts to make sense to me. I started to understand the filler words that don't translate well into English. There was real delight when I could put together an understandable sentence. I felt triumphant when I said something in public in Swedish and people didn't automatically switch to English. I will never forget the day that I went to the city center and was able to blend in perfectly without anyone staring at me or asking me where I came from--I was like a local.
In the end, I passed all the classes necessary to advance to university level. I wasn't perfect, but I could carry on a conversation and write quite a bit. My teacher told me that I wrote like I was writing in English and translating it into Swedish--which is totally true.
Learning to speak a foreign language means that you have to put aside certain thought patterns and practices and get comfortable with being really, really bad at something for a long time. In many ways, you are like the baby fumbling and mumbling with words. Everything sounds like nonsense when you start to speak and you understand maybe every 20 words or so that people speak. It means making mistakes constantly and dealing with the subsequent embarrassment and frustration. Sometimes it means that people aren't very patient with you as you try to speak or they speak very loudly and slowly to you as if you were stupid. The rhythms and cadences of the music don't feel natural or understandable.
Then we moved back to the United States. Adapting to life back in the United States was incredibly difficult, much harder than I ever anticipated. It took me a few years to adapt. Then we moved to another country and then back to New York. Over the years, I lost a lot of my Swedish. In my dreams, I would speak Swedish and revisit favorite places.
In January, I decided it was time for me to regain my Swedish. I began using an app called Duolingo. I listen to Swedish podcasts. As I have resumed my Swedish practice, my mind has been flooded with details about Sweden that were far back in my mind--things I hadn't thought of or accessed in years.
Why did I start studying Swedish again? Actually, for many reasons. I worked really hard at learning Swedish in the first place and I don't want to lose it. Our family wants to return to Sweden and live there for a year or two so that our younger children will also have a Swedish experience. I am also going to work on developing an expertise in Swedish history and genealogy when I become a professional genealogist. Brent and I hope to serve a mission there as a couple when we are retired. I also want to rekindle aspects of myself that I developed while living in Sweden.
Have you ever learned a foreign language? If so, how did it go? Did you retain it? Why did you learn a second language?
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