I grew up unilingual, like many Canadians. I tried to imagine being able to speak another language, of how cool it would be to be able to freely express myself and insult others in some language other than English, be it French or German or Spanish. In grade eight I survived one year of French and then switched to Spanish in grade nine. In Spanish I would say "Porque la maestra de frances era una bruja pero la maestra de espanol era una muneca" (because the French teacher was a bitch but the Spanish teacher was a doll). The grade eight French teacher did not seem to like any of her students. She always seemed contemptuous of us. She never had a word of praise or encouragement for even the best of our feeble efforts to grasp the language of Racine. I think she truly hated her job and by extension us her students.
I followed my older brother's lead and went straight to Spanish where I seemed to thrive under the tutelage of a kind, shrewd and caring teacher. Fast forward to 1997. I was forty-one and hoping that I could somehow move down to Costa Rica after having been effectively seduced three years ago by that beautiful country. I was motivated to learn Spanish. A complete stranger approached me and gave me a small Spanish-English dictionary. He didn't have a clue that I would be needing it, neither had we ever been introduced. I took this as a message from God. I borrowed grammar books from the library. Nothing really happened. My life was in a state of upheaval and I wouldn't be, for sometime anyway, really capable of learning much of anything for the next couple of years. The only thing that really occurred during this brief window into el lenguaje de Cervantes was that suddenly I was able to pronounce correctly, almost perfectly, the words I was reading off the page.
As my situation began to settle again in 1999 I took up Spanish again with more library books. Nothing really took with me. Two months later I committed myself. I bought a Spanish-English dictionary and a workbook and slowly began to move forward. A chance encounter with a friend I'd lost touch with opened more resources (she was also struggling to learn Spanish and had many Latin American friends). She introduced me to potential teachers, and shared resources with me: a Spanish radio program and a place where I could take very affordable lessons (one dollar a pop).
I was unemployed and not really able to look for work, given some of my mental health issues du jour. I took advantage of the free time to plunge myself into Spanish. Every day I heard Spanish on various radio programs. I obtained more learning materials and studied grammar until I learned every single verb tense as well as the correct use of the subjunctive. I learned new words. I began to buy books in Spanish, not children's but adult literature. I cut my Spanish reading teeth on Isabel Allende with a dictionary very close at hand. I began reading newspapers and magazines in Spanish. I participated in a language exchange program and met people from Peru and from El Salvador, among other places.
In a year I could already speak with some skill. In another year I spoke with greater skill. Then I plateaued for several years until in 2008 I returned to Costa Rica where I spent four weeks speaking a lot of Spanish and very little English. In 2009 I spent a month in Mexico City where I spoke more Spanish. The following year I returned to Costa Rica for a month and a half, then back to Mexico City fourteen months later. I returned to Mexico three more times then visited Colombia twice. Each visit lasted a month, and more and more I spent my vacations exclusively in Spanish. My fluency went sky-high.
I began meeting native Spanish speakers online. Some of us have become friends and we regularly meet to support each other in English and Spanish. I read out loud in Spanish twice a day during my devotions since, being a fanatically devout Christian, I read the Bible daily but in Spanish. I watch Youtube videos in Spanish. While I'm out walking during the day I talk to my imaginary friend, Fulano, in Spanish on my phone and play back the messages from my voicemail.
Dedicating myself to a new language has sped and enhanced my mental health recovery; it has expanded my world view; I have received better than the value of a complete university education concerning the people and social and political situations as well as the history and economic and environmental conditions of many Latin American countries. I am able to meet and communicate with tons of interesting and awesome people from other cultures in their own language. I use my Spanish frequently at work with Latin American clients, I can enjoy thinking, feeling, and expressing in a different language in a variety of experiences much different from my native English. I am happier, more confident and communicate with far greater skill and social dexterity than any other time in my life, thanks to becoming fluent in Spanish. I believe this has also done much to enhance my brain health, increase neuroplasticity and help me think faster and clearer and with better organization
And besides. It's fun!
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