I never had the amition to learn Czech, but one day I set off on that journey after all. I thought the language was a beast. The sounds of Czech hit my brain like machine gun. Expats all around justified their mediocre progress with the comforting thought that Czech (according to some research) belongs to the world's most difficult languages (which I don't believe). I never had the illusion that I would understand Czech, even less so speak it one day. But after months in the dark, and a few years in the fog, one day it lightened up and (in contrast to what expats insisted) I turned out to be able to understand Czech. After all, it's a language, consisting of vocabulary and grammar.
This, however, doesn't mean I excel in it. I follow it. Literally. I am a dedicated follower of Czech. I follow - I chase - the sentences. I lag behind, and have to accelerate in order to catch up. I laugh a second too late at a joke. I laugh too loud at jokes, so happy I got the punchline. I nod when I understand. Not because I agree, but because I'm still following. Anticipate on what's coming - on what the speaker will say next - I can't. Trusting myself that I actually understood what was said I don't. And when I'm unfamiliar with the topic, it takes a while until I have collected enough keywords and come to a certain understanding. I fill up the voids in between with my own interpretations.
Sudden twists in the story are the hardest. I blame the speaker at such moments for a lack of logic and for verbosity. First in another language you come to realise how many words fall, how wasteful people are with words. There is too much talk. We ought to be more economical with words.
So I follow Czech. I follow sentences on foot, without anticipating what is coming. It results in comical situations. Like when we were on a weekend away with students. I was peeling potatoes in the kitchen. The caretaker's wife came into the kitchen, unknowing that I am not Czech, and started talking to me. I tried to orientate on the theme of the conversation. Not enough grip, lack of key words. People talk so much. What! Is that a goat emerging from the mist of words - goat - do I hear that correct? Yes, it's a goat. Potato peels for the goat. I see! Yes, of course! Nodding, total willingness, laughter. I understand, I follow, of course the potato peels can go to the goat.
Or another time. I bumped into one of the students I know at Ostrava central station. Guitar on his back, coming back from music class. His family is musical, he says. Please repeat, your dad sings in a choir, I ask? No, my grandfather, he says. How nice! Still does? Not anymore, he doesn't have teeth. Teeth? Is he talking about teeth? But I follow. No teeth, no articulation. And he doesn't have false teeth, I ask? (Accuracy subordinate to understandability). No, they fall out. Problematic during mealtimes. Hillarity. Because it is hillarious. Because I follow something hillarious.
What I want to say doesn't always come out as I want it to. 'Are you glad that...' I want to ask a friend. But after the comma I get tangled up in the conditional, and my question stagnates. Whether he is happy, that is what he hears me ask. He tries, he says. But it is a personal question, midway through our conversation. And I wasn't even planning to ask him that. But perhaps it was a question that needed asking.
This, however, doesn't mean I excel in it. I follow it. Literally. I am a dedicated follower of Czech. I follow - I chase - the sentences. I lag behind, and have to accelerate in order to catch up. I laugh a second too late at a joke. I laugh too loud at jokes, so happy I got the punchline. I nod when I understand. Not because I agree, but because I'm still following. Anticipate on what's coming - on what the speaker will say next - I can't. Trusting myself that I actually understood what was said I don't. And when I'm unfamiliar with the topic, it takes a while until I have collected enough keywords and come to a certain understanding. I fill up the voids in between with my own interpretations.
Sudden twists in the story are the hardest. I blame the speaker at such moments for a lack of logic and for verbosity. First in another language you come to realise how many words fall, how wasteful people are with words. There is too much talk. We ought to be more economical with words.
So I follow Czech. I follow sentences on foot, without anticipating what is coming. It results in comical situations. Like when we were on a weekend away with students. I was peeling potatoes in the kitchen. The caretaker's wife came into the kitchen, unknowing that I am not Czech, and started talking to me. I tried to orientate on the theme of the conversation. Not enough grip, lack of key words. People talk so much. What! Is that a goat emerging from the mist of words - goat - do I hear that correct? Yes, it's a goat. Potato peels for the goat. I see! Yes, of course! Nodding, total willingness, laughter. I understand, I follow, of course the potato peels can go to the goat.
Or another time. I bumped into one of the students I know at Ostrava central station. Guitar on his back, coming back from music class. His family is musical, he says. Please repeat, your dad sings in a choir, I ask? No, my grandfather, he says. How nice! Still does? Not anymore, he doesn't have teeth. Teeth? Is he talking about teeth? But I follow. No teeth, no articulation. And he doesn't have false teeth, I ask? (Accuracy subordinate to understandability). No, they fall out. Problematic during mealtimes. Hillarity. Because it is hillarious. Because I follow something hillarious.
What I want to say doesn't always come out as I want it to. 'Are you glad that...' I want to ask a friend. But after the comma I get tangled up in the conditional, and my question stagnates. Whether he is happy, that is what he hears me ask. He tries, he says. But it is a personal question, midway through our conversation. And I wasn't even planning to ask him that. But perhaps it was a question that needed asking.
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