IMMERSION I - Language
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‘IMMERSION’ is an exploration of how we can make travel more sustainable for ourselves and the world around us. With a focus on slow, solo travel, Lily Alford examines and resolves the linguistic and cultural disconnection between ourselves and our surroundings when abroad in a way that protects our individuality. Over the course of six thematic instalments (language, culture, environment, community, simplicity and the self), a more holistic attitude to immersion emerges: one that doesn’t aim for perfection, but for peace.
Let’s start off with a metaphor. You lie below the bubbling surface, completely submerged. The water sparkles and snaps with whispered tongues and colourful skirts. The heat thrums through your arteries, yet you concentrate on resisting the desperate urge to come up for air until the end of your slot. When you do, the cold air stings your skin and you grip the sides of the bath-tub with prune-like fingers. They tell you this is complete immersion, the best there is, but you’re left with a headache, chattering teeth and short sharp breaths.
Every modern languages student has heard the phrase LANGUAGE IMMERSION more times than they’ve practised their verb tables. It’s what we strive for during our year abroads and any other trips we take outside of university. But the issue with immersion is that, at some point, your body needs you to come up for air. This causes two main obstacles to language learning.
Firstly, it’s hard to stay under for long periods of time, because it’s become almost impossible in this day and age to tear yourself away from English speakers and media. Secondly, if you do win this constant fight against speaking in your usual tongue, you may be left drained and exhausted. Students whose first language is not English, or even other native English speakers who take joy from unabashedly jumping into new languages, may have a different experience with this. All I can say is that, from my own experience, speaking to strangers in a new language makes me feel sick to my stomach.
The question remains, then, of how we can make language immersion more sustainable for ourselves. I do not believe in isolating oneself in the wilds of a foreign land, both because such isolation cannot be forced and also because it does not reflect the way in which we will use languages in our careers and lives.
Maybe it’s cynical, but complete linguistic isolation is basically impossible, especially from a student’s position. The expectation for your year abroad is that you work or study in institutions that are broadly connected and perhaps exist in parallel to anglophone ones. This allows universities and funding providers to assert a set of guidelines. However, it also means that English-speaking students tend to gravitate towards the same metropolitan hubs: places where it is easier to socialise in the way we know, where there are clubs with familiar DJs, organised flatshares, and cultural icons within the foundations of the city itself.
There are many reasons why the Year Abroad is so popular; and most of them are not linked to language immersion. After all, most of us rarely have the opportunity to take on what is essentially a designated and supported period of independence where there are few social or academic consequences. There is no need to deprive ourselves of forming connections with other English-speakers in an attempt to manufacture a more “authentic” experience. So how can we make language immersion easier for us, without losing out on life in the process?
Unfortunately for us all, more confident language use requires biting the bullet and placing ourselves in new situations. However, this doesn’t have to be huge steps: it could be talking to a toddler, trying out an exercise class with locals in the park, or messaging someone on Tinder. In most of these scenarios, there are no stakes; you will never have to discuss your poor grammar agreements, or even see these people again.
Although I struggle to believe this, with all my apologetic Britishness and instilled perfectionism, most people want to help you, even if only to entertain themselves. Ask cashiers about cucumbers and bartenders about beverages- often it’s not about the vocabulary list, it’s about the slang you learn along the way.
Sometimes, of course, the language barrier is too great. There is no point throwing yourself against a brick wall that won’t collapse. Especially with new languages, you might not have anything to communicate; maybe a native speaker is determined to avoid you; or maybe your mind has gone completely blank. The latter is more common than you may think, because language learning is never linear; some days the words spill, other days they sputter.
It’s better at these times to stop speaking completely and try to listen. Not only will you learn from the content, you might pick up something about the language’s structure; about how people talk to one another, how they treat each other.
Language immersion does not have to be all-consuming or lonely. It does not require a solitary bathtub or plush foam to cushion your descent. We are all fallible and flawed and prefer being in our comfort zones; and the world wants to keep us there, in our little boxes. What we should aim to do, instead, is to focus on the bubbles rather than the water. Let’s stretch out our bubbles until they almost pop. Then wait, patiently, until the pressure falls and we can make them a bit larger again. By doing so, we work on fostering an environment that encourages our growth and perpetuates good habits without giving up a good time in a new city or a good grade when we get home.
Coming soon…
Chapter II: CULTURE