January 22, 2001

January 18, 2001

The Struggle of the Language

It eats away at you bit by bit. Some days you’re up and other days you’re down. A simple trip to the store without a “Kakvo?!?” or a “Mloa?!” (“What?!?” and “Please!?”) can make my day here. Usually the “Kakvo?!” is accompanied by a look of confusion and squinting eyes that show of exasperation. It can make you feel stupid. To have a person who is patient enough to listen carefully to my ill-pronounced words and take the time to find the item that I am looking for can put a smile on my face for the whole day. You see, here in Bulgaria, the stores are not like they are in America. Everything here is behind the counter. You have to ask the clerk for every item that you buy. In America, you can easily slip in and out of a supermarket without uttering a word. You don’t even have to say a word to the clerk – scan the items, swipe your card, maybe say “plastic” or “paper”, and then you are on your way. And you might even be used to that “self check-out”, where we do away with human contact completely. While it surely doesn’t seem impolite to a Bulgarian to say such things as “Kakvo?!?” with exasperated, squinting eyes, and curled-up nose, our confidence in the language can unknowingly deteriorate until one day I’m in the store, or talking with a colleague, and I just can’t find the words or I just can’t make sense of the words that are coming out of the mouth of the person that is speaking to me. And I feel like going home and hiding. That awful look of exhaustion on the part of the Bulgarian with whom I am trying to speak can knock down a feeling moderate confidence into the depths of despair. Yes, despair. It can make the adventure that we got ourselves into look pretty ridiculous and the returning to the comfort of home, ecstasy. Please don’t get me wrong; we’re not planning on returning anytime soon. The challenge of living in a foreign country is fraught with difficulties but it is full of new experiences that shine like extra suns on our little lives here. But the idea of going to a place where everyone understands what we are saying is sometimes the most appealing idea to us.

So when you are in a store or bank, and the person ahead of you is trying to speak the English language, be patient. In fact, try to say something simple and kind to her. You could make her day with a kind word. And also remember that if she is from a developing country, it is probably a lifelong dream to be in the country that you and I are privileged to call home. She is probably working at an entry-level job, probably working harder than most of her co-workers, probably picking up overtime, probably living in a tiny apartment, and, on top of it all, probably saving money to send home to her family. She misses her family, and wouldn’t have enough money to go home if there was a family crisis. The green card or visa that she has is the Holy Grail to her friends and relatives, and they are the ones that gave her the money to make the flight. The transition from a society based upon community into an individualistic society, like America, can be more painful than you can imagine. You can make her life a little more pleasant. Believe me, she’s trying to learn the language – she’s trying really, really hard.

-Josh