Am I really who I think I am?

While teaching at Hesston College, Kansas, a group of us formed a small group that met weekly. Most in the group spoke Spanish except for one friend. Once at a meeting we were jovially interacting in Spanish while my friend was a passive observer. After the meeting he told me: “you are a different person when you speak Spanish.” This was my first realization that this was probably true and it has made me think about how learning other languages has affected me as well. Am I really who I think I am? How am I different when I speak Spanish, or Swiss German? When a walk in and out of these language-induced personalities (personas?) which is the real me?

I became friends with a couple who were children of missionaries in Italy. He was from the USA and her heritage was Swiss. When I saw their wedding pictures, I viewed her as a sophisticated model and when she spoke Italian it in no way took away the image I had of her. When she spoke Bärndütsch (Bernese Swiss German) with us, she was suddenly transformed into a common, ordinary country girl. Who is she? A beautiful and sophisticated Italian model, or a simple country girl? Perhaps she is both. Perhaps it depends on which language she is speaking at the time.

Psycholinguistics is a field which looks at how language affects behavior and culture and how culture affects language. One can say that it is like the question, "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" I have reflected a lot on certain usages in languages that influence how one behaves. When I learn and use these usages, have I changed who I am?

For example, in Spanish, whose speakers notably belong to a face-saving culture, they have a linguistic construction which reflects this reality. Instead of saying, “I dropped the ball,” they say, “The ball dropped itself on me.” In the English version, the subject, “I” takes full responsibility for dropping the ball. However, in Spanish, the subject is the ball, as if the ball was to be blamed for having been dropped. I am only indirectly involved, as an indirect object. Couldn’t one surmise that that is a face saving mechanism? When I use this expression which is grammatically called the “accidental reflexive” and many others like it, have I become part of the face-saving culture? 

In another example, in Swiss German, there is no simple past tense, normally called the preterite. To express time in the past, they use either the present perfect or the pluperfect. For example, we would say, “I took three pills.” They would say, “I have taken three pills.” The preterite tells us in English, that the action is over and done. The present perfect, on the other hand, tells us that the action in the past continues to influence the present moment. Our sentence in English isn’t complete until it tells us how it affects us in the present. “I have taken three pills” implies as of yet, up to now. I might take more. 

How might the use of the present perfect for reporting events in the past influence how speakers view past events? Does it mean that for them, things that happened in the past always continue to influence the present? That nothing is ever over and done? 

The Swiss German dialect also does not have a future tense. Adverbs of time are used with the present tense to show that something will take place in the future. In contrast, English has two forms for the present: "I will go to church tomorrow" and "I am going to church tomorrow." Spanish uses both futute forms and in addition, like Swiss German, frequently uses the present tense to speak about something in the future. For example,  both Swiss German and Spanish can say "I eat in a restaurant tomorrow" while that sounds very strange to an English speaker.

For the most part, English is very precise with its tense usage, but lacks the nuance and ambiguity of the subjunctive moods where Spanish excels. 

I have only given a few examples of how different languages influence thought, and by extension the cultures within which they are spoken. Since people have observed me  being different when I speak with Swiss German speakers and Spanish speakers compared to when I speak English, has my mode of thinking changed as well? Am I three separate personalities? Am I who I really think I am? 

I don't think I have split personalities. I believe I have been able to integrate the various modes of thought into one personality and that allows me more flexibility and openness in my thought processes. So it is with others who have learned to speak more than one language. 

 Other posts on language learning:

 Learning Language a Spiritual Discipline

 Technically Speaking . . . Motivation

 Confessions of a Polyglot 

Just Another Day in Washington, DC

No, this is not a post on politics. It's about a day showing our nephew from Switzerland, Andreas Moser, the usual turist sites to be found in that historical city, and especially the famous cherry blossoms during this time of the year. 

It started off fairly normally. We drove I-66 to Vienna, VA, to the first metro stop available on the way to downtown DC so that we didn't have to deal with parking and traffic in the metro area. We got off at the Smithsonian exit and headed by foot to the Jefferson Memorial and the Tidal Basin which is surrounded by cherry trees. The blossoms were a bit past their peak, but still beautiful.

After taking an inordinate number of pictures dodging mostly Asian tourists, we headed back to the Washington Memorial and then on to the White House. Because of added security since the BLM demonstration and the Capitol riot, we walked forever to find a place for Andreas to get a shot of the famous house housing our President.

We were exhausted and not only exhausted, but desperately needed to use a bathroom before continuing our adventures. We found a restaurant near the White House and settled down to a meal that cost $61.02 for a hamburger with fries and a salad. At least we got to use the bathroom. The toilets were not golden.

We tried to get back on the metro, but were surprised to find that the station was closed. We were told by an kind African-American man where the next closest station could be found. He asked us if we were tourists, and after responding that we were showing our nephew from Switzerland around the city, he smiled brightly he said that he was glad that tourists were returning to his city for visits. I observed that we had seen quite a few tourists thus far on our tour.

We found the station and headed for the Capitol. We arrived there at around 2pm, not knowing that just a few minutes before our arrival, a man had driven his car into a barricade, jumped out of it and threatened the police with a machete. He was killed by the police but before doing so had injured two of them, one fatally. The Capitol was put on lockdown, even though Congress was in recess, and few people were inside. We really didn't see anything that we thought was out of the ordinary while there, and were totally unaware of what happened until we saw a newsflash on our phones after we had departed the area. We then remembered that we had seen a helicopter flying overhead. It was reported that a helicopter had landed at the Capitol earlier. We jokingly thought it was carrying President Biden somewhere.

Our next stop was the Lincoln Memorial, which was completely on the other end of the National Mall. We had walked a great deal already, so we decided to get back on the metro to go to the closest stop to the Memorial. 

When we emerged from the Foggy Bottom station, there were hundreds of police cars and motorcycles surrounding the George Washington University Hospital. There was a cadre of media across the street from the hospital entrance. All the streets in the area were blocked by police. 

Being curious, we went to investigate. I approached a soldier: "Am I allowed to ask you what is going on?" I quiered. He gave me a friendly smile, and answered, "I can't tell you, but you will see it on the news.

As we walking down 23rd St. NW, the police cars and motorcycles came down the street. In the middle of the escort there was a black van which we decided was probably carrying the mystery patient from the hospital. 

We scoured our news websites, and found nothing. We didn't find out anything until the next day. Apparently it was the police victim of the Capitol incident, who had been at the hospital for forensic examination. 

With no further incident, we continued on to the Lincoln Memorial, then returned to our metro stop to return to where our car was parked. With two stops before station, they announced that train service was suspended, that we had to get off the train and go the rest of the way by bus. We waited for what seemed like an eternity until the bus finally arrived. We packed into the standing room only bus and headed out. Seemed like a super spreader incident since there was no way to social distance. 

Another eternity passed till we arrived at the next-to-last stop. There we were told that the train was now functioning again, and we were to get back on the metro to go to our final destination. We arrived without any further problems. Exhausted, we jumped in our car to return to Harrisonburg--another two hours.

Indeed, it was just another day in Washington, DC for many of its residents. For us, it was an extraordinary day in DC. I'm sure our Swiss nephew will never forget that trip.