How do you know when you’re fluent in another language?
The other day, in a moment of idle curiosity, I took an online Spanish test. And it went rather well; when I finished, I was told that I was 87% fluent.
This is very funny, because – to my shame – I haven’t spoken Spanish properly for years. And although the test proved that everything I learnt at school and university is still there in my head, I know the next time I do try and have a conversation, I’ll struggle initially to remember the right words and how to construct sentences correctly. And there’ll definitely be a lot of ‘um’ and ‘er’.
Defining yourself as ‘fluent’ or ‘not’ seems like a simple enough task. Personally, I’d define fluency as the moment you’re able to have a conversation in another language without hesitation, just as you would in your own native language.
But is that setting too high a standard for myself? Surely what I’ve just described is one step on – what we would call native level?
So, I asked a few other EuroTalkers how they define fluency. A couple of responses were very much like mine:
“When you’re able to have a conversation (spoken or written) without making mistakes, without having to pause to think about words and grammar and without referring to a dictionary or other ‘cheat-sheets’. Be able to use the more complex features of a language with ease (e.g. conditionals, obscure tenses).”
“Speaking another language without having to think about it.”
While a couple were willing to be a bit more flexible:
“When you have enough of the language to get through a visit to the country, you can understand a local and they can understand you back when you speak their language.”
“I think minor mistakes are permitted as long as the other one understands you.”
And another one came at the question from an angle I’d never considered:
“You’re able to have any conversation about general knowledge, not specific fields like medicine, for example.”
But there was one thing all the answers seemed to have in common: the key to fluency is confidence, whether you know all the words or not. And that’s why I can’t think of myself as 87% fluent in Spanish; yes, I understand how the subjunctive works, and perhaps I’d even say that I can read the language fluently – but that doesn’t mean I can confidently have a conversation with someone about the weather.
What do you think ‘fluent’ means? Are you fluent in any other languages?
Liz
You never know until you try…
More years ago than I care to remember, I did a degree in Hispanic Studies at the University of Nottingham. I loved the course, but there was one part of it that filled me with terror from the very first day.
The Year Abroad.
This is a pretty standard element of a modern languages degree – you spend your third year living abroad, either working or studying, and that’s when you really learn the language.
I had the choice of going to Spain or Latin America, and being the cautious soul I am, opted to stay close to home (a decision I still occasionally regret). So in September 2002, my friend and I nervously boarded a plane for Madrid.
The first challenge when we arrived was to find somewhere to live; we’d booked a room in a hostel for the first few days, but after that we were on our own. And so we got on the phones.
Now just to be clear, I’ve never been a massive fan of talking on the phone in English; the thought of calling people in another language was genuinely terrifying. But given a choice between that and being homeless, I had to pull myself together and get on with it.
Initially, my friend and I were looking for accommodation together, but when it became clear we weren’t going to find anything, we split up. So suddenly there I was, in a strange city, going off to view apartments on my own, in another language.
Definitely not lost in Madrid…
Eventually I found a slightly shabby room in a shared flat… only for my friend to announce the following day that her new landlady knew someone with a much nicer room – which was also cheaper. Feeling slightly anxious, I went to talk to my own landladies (two elderly sisters who lived in the flat downstairs) and successfully negotiated the return of my deposit and first month’s rent. In Spanish.
Once the living arrangements were settled, the next challenge was going to university. We’d been enrolled at the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid, and had to pass exams in a certain number of modules to pass the year and continue to the final year of our course. So before I knew it, I was taking classes entirely in Spanish for the first time in my life – and then, a few months later, preparing for two-hour exams, all of which, to my surprise, I passed.
Looking back on my year abroad now, I sometimes can’t quite believe I really did some of these things. I even managed to get my hair cut once, although it didn’t go all that well – let’s face it, I have enough trouble describing what I want done to my hair here in London. And I spent the year living with a very lovely lady who didn’t speak a word of English. (It was always very entertaining when my family – who don’t speak any Spanish – came to visit.)
Learning a language can open up some amazing opportunities, and sometimes you just have to take a chance, however nervewracking the situation. You never know, you might surprise yourself with the things you can achieve. And even if it goes a bit wrong, a bad haircut will grow out eventually.
Liz
Can you whistle a phrase?
A few days ago, Gloria stopped by my desk with a burning question: had I ever heard of the whistling languages?
Proudly, I was able to answer that I had, but quickly became deflated when we realised that neither of us had the slightest idea of how they work. Was there a whistling alphabet with different tones for vowels and consonants? Do you just learn whole phrases by heart for limited daily use? Clearly there was a very large hole in our knowledge, and we immediately set about trying to fill it in.
For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, whistling languages are those which have developed (mostly) in areas of extreme terrain, where communication by speech would be impossible but where whistles can carry over large distances (up to a couple of miles). Perhaps most well known is the whistling language Silbo Gomero (of La Gomera) which, once endangered, is now being successfully preserved through mandatory classes at school. The way the language actually works is that the whistled phrase resembles, in intonation and pitch, the phrase in the original language – Spanish, in this case. This means that users can improvise conversations in the same way as with a spoken language, even using modern vocabulary which may not previously have existed.
Gloria has actually been to La Gomera and seen first-hand how they achieve the incredible variations in the whistling language: not just with pursed lips, but with fingers to amplify the sound and change the tone. This is all very impressive to me, but it turns out that Gloria is a bit of an expert at whistling, and graciously offered to demonstrate a few simple techniques. Although it’s not the same as having a whole, developed whistling language at your disposal, she does have a few ‘set phrases’ which she not only uses in specific situations but which are understood by people and – in one case – birds too! Watch to the end to hear her top tip on how to make your whistles extra loud…
If you think you can rival Gloria for expertise in whistling, or have a different whistle you actually use in everyday life, we’d love to hear about it!
Nat
What languages mean to me
Interview with Alexandra Turner – translator, writer, editor
Alex left her London life a few months ago to go and travel around the world. She is passionate about culture and languages and has traveled to 26 countries up to now. At the moment she lives in Stockholm, Sweden (and we deeply envy her for that).
EuroTalk: What made you start learning languages?
I started learning German and French when I started secondary school because it was compulsory. Straight away I loved both of them and they became my favourite lessons. Outside of school I was interested in watching movies or looking at books in those languages and continuing to learn (I know, so geeky!). Then two years later I started to study Spanish too as an optional subject for GCSE (the exams we do aged 16) and I loved that too – my lessons made me think about sunny Spain instead of depressing London 😛 I was starting to get pretty interested in languages so I also took Japanese lessons after school (again, yes, I was a geek…) So I kept on with those language for a few years. I started learning Italian just two years ago because I met my boyfriend who’s Italian, so I learned just by listening to him talking, by watching Italian TV with him and later on by going to Italy. Finally my other language is Ukrainian, which I started learning because I was living in L’viv, Ukraine, and I really needed the language to get around day to day.
ET: What gives you motivation to continue learning?
To be honest I mostly learn for fun. I am really fascinated by languages, how they are different and yet sometimes similar. If I have spare time I am as likely to grab one of my language apps or watch a foreign movie as I am to surf Facebook or watch TV. And in fact if I DO surf Facebook, Twitter etc, half my feed is in other languages anyway.
I also learn for work because I’m a translator and I feel like I need to keep improving. And travelling of course is a motivation because I need languages for practical things.
ET: What do you find to be most rewarding about language learning?
Earning money is one thing! But the best feeling ever is navigating a practical situation using one of your languages, or having a real conversation for the first (or second, third…) time. I get so psyched when I talk to an Italian person and they actually understand what I’m saying. Or just doing something simple like buying some tomatoes at the market in Ukraine, I feel pretty cool!
ET: What were some of the challenges you faced and how did you overcome them?
Loads! When I was at school I found grammar boring and I just wanted to learn loads of words (I was pretty naïve!!) So later on my grammar was a total mess and I had to go back and try to put it into place. So I still have a pretty terrible knowledge of some fundamental things like genders in German, which can only be fixed by hard, hard study later on. So if you want to reach a decent level in a language, I recommend to get the grammar in place ASAP, which I’ve done with Ukrainian (older and wiser) and it’s helped soooo much. Also I now find grammar amazing, like doing a Sudoku puzzle 😀
Another challenge is that I am shy and afraid of speaking to new people in new languages. This is incredibly hard to overcome, but the only solution is, like Nike says, Just Do it! Start with easier situations like buying a beer or a stamp and progress to harder ones. Or stick yourself in an environment where you are forced to use the language. For me that’s spending time with my boyfriend’s family who speak NO English, or by living in Ukraine where many people know no English at all. Another helpful thing is to organise a language exchange or find a conversation teacher/partner who will give you one on one help. You gain confidence just by doing it over and over and over…
ET: Tell us your favourite word/expression in your favourite language.
Wow there are so many! There are loads of amazing expressions in Italian although most of them are too rude to write here now… The best things are the gestures, there’s a funny one you can do to show that you’re being left alone or ditched, where you make the shape of an artichoke (for some reason…) with your hand. In German I like the expression ‘das geht mir auf den Keks’ – ‘it gets on my biscuit’, which means something annoys you. I also really like using the word ‘pobrecito’ (poor thing) in Spanish whenever I’m being sarcastically sympathetic to someone.
ET: Any funny/weird/awkward situation that happened with a native or another speaker?
Too many awkward situations to count. At the moment I keep accidentally using Spanish words when I speak Italian, which is quite awkward when people stare at me and say ‘what does that mean?’ In Ukraine I had silly situations every day, such as trying to order food and having to make animal noises when I didn’t know the name of the type of meat, for example. Luckily people found it fun rather than being annoyed. Also I’d get really annoyed when I went into a продукти to buy milk or bread – I’d so proud that I’d remembered the right words, then they would ask me some silly question like ‘which type of bread?’ which I clearly had no chance of answering. Last time it happened, I replied to the woman ‘Я не знаю’ (I don’t know) in exasperation, and she laughed at me for about five minutes…
Read more from Alex at wanderlustlanguages.com or tweet her at @alexa4912
The Language of Chocolate
Ah chocolate, that little sinful delight that you can pretty much find in every corner of the globe. Eat it, drink it, wear it or even play with it, you simply can’t get away from it. Since it’s National Chocolate Week I was curious to find out where the word ‘chocolate’ actually comes from.
Unfortunately there isn’t really a concrete answer that states its exact origins. Some believe it comes from the Aztec (Nahuatl) word ‘chocolatl‘ which referred to a substance produced from the seeds of the cacau tree. Others believe the Spanish coined it from the Mayan word ‘chocol‘ (hot) and the Aztec word ‘atl‘ (water) when early explorers came across a beverage made from the seeds.
It only goes to show how far back the beginnings of chocolate as we know it are embedded into our history. If you’re looking for interesting ways to use the word chocolate in other languages, here are a few to start you off with.
If you ever come across something or someone that you find utterly useless, then the expression ‘as much use as a chocolate teapot‘ might come in handy. Science has even proven how useless a chocolate teapot really is.
In French, you might use the phrase ‘tablettes de chocolat‘ to refer to a particularly svelte and toned looking man. There are some things about the French language that I just love.
‘Es el chocolate del loro‘ in Spanish literally translates to ‘the parrot’s chocolate’, but is in fact referring to the insignificance of a small amount of money when compared to a much larger amount. I’m still trying to work out where the parrot comes into this, though.
And if you find yourself in a particularly confusing situation that defies all sense of logic and cohesion, don’t hesitate to swap the English idiom ‘it’s all Greek to me’ for the Dutch ‘daar kan ik geen chocola van maken’ which translates to ‘I can’t make chocolate of that’.
Do you know any other chocolate based expressions? Do let us know! I’m sure they’ll be positively delicious…
Safia
