Concerning languages, their properties and their speakers.
European Portuguese phonetically resembles Russian more so than the Brazilian dialect or any other romance language for that matter. Hearing European Portuguese, I buy that. One one occasion as I answered the phone in Russian in company of a Spanish speaker, she’d after inquired if that was Portuguese I spoke.
In São Paulo I knew a Brazilian who spoke English fluently with a near flawless Texan Fort-Worth accent. His entire English-speaking experience abroad consisted of 3 months of immersion at Fort Worth, TX.
Many Brazilians have claimed not to understand European Portuguese. At all! I’ve plenty engaged European Portuguese speakers in long conversations and well understood them. I’ve watched a fair amount of European Portuguese YouTube programming (clean communicators, not youthful slang) and comprehended with little difficulty. I’ve observed plenty of Brazilians hold conversations with the European language counterparts.
A good portion of Francophone Belgium doesn’t speak Dutch. The contrary to be said of the Dutch-speaking region. The less represented German-speaking group is also not without a communication barrier. Fascinating for such a small country.
I’ve listened to the alien sounding Swiss German variety spoken in Basel.
An overwhelming majority of Belarus (my country of birth) speaks Russian as the first language. Yet public transit announcements, street names and much written communication takes place in Belorussian.
Ukraine makes a curious bilingual nation. The west speaks predominantly Ukrainian, while the east and center mainly Russian. Much of the Russian-speaking populace, especially towards the east, doesn’t speak Ukrainian.
The Ukrainian language side is said to exhibit a degree of dislike towards Russian. I don’t offer precise rationale, though can imagine the spread of such ideas. My four days in Lviv situated at the far West, present no visible contempt across my not infrequent Russian banters. I stayed at a pension. During check-in I asked the young, student-age receptionist whether he preferred that I speak English or Russian. Proceeding with English at first, which I quiet expected, he switched to Russian five minutes in, maintained for the remainder.
I’ve faked not speaking English too many a time in Spanish-speaking countries and Brazil. Sometimes native speakers have engaged me in English with no apparent precedent. I haven’t always felt in the mood to reciprocate. The conversation naturally continues in the local language and end of story. Sometimes, if inquired about my native language, I indicate Russian.
Speaking Spanish in Uruguay, I’ve stated my origin as Brazilian on a handful of occasions, mostly to avoid incidental English conversation attempts. Most Spanish speakers don’t have an ear to discern native Portuguese.
Years ago in Beijing, if approached and questioned, in English, Do you speak English, my response was a negative. If nothing else followed, it was almost certainly an attempt at a scam.
Language fascists. In my experience they are very few. I classify them as individuals that, unless you speak with near gramatic fluidity, not only will make inopportune efforts to correct, but often alter the spoken language.
The vastness of the Chicago polish community enables one to subsist years without English. I guess the same applies to the Spanish-speaking community.
The Spanish language is heavily engendered in the fabric of the city of Miami. One can viably subsist with Spanish alone. In my visits, I’ve been engaged a time too often by precisely such Spanish speakers, and not strictly the labor workforce but seemingly average middle-class elements. I don’t know of a better major US city to immerse yourself in the language.
Consistent listening to video content in your desired language yields profound dividend in language sustainability, even if you don’t vocalize a single word throughout long periods. But you must express genuine interest in the material. Following the stratagem, despite not speaking Polish for many months, my faculty regains decent momentum at the spur of the moment.
Germany still makes for the only country where the native populace insisted that I look like them.
One element in common among those that don’t speak any beyond the necessary foreign language, is the heavy emphasis of difficulty. Russian, Portuguese, Japanese, Polish, German, all difficult. Locals take pride in attributing difficulty to their language. Anyone obstinate to pursue a language eagerly defers to the difficulty. As if, any merit notwithstanding, this bore any but a marginal influence in language development. Thorougly reinforced, difficulty surges as the trendiest topic among language discussions.
Ignorance and naivety carries you a long way. Ignore others' experiences. Ignore the difficulty proclamations. In Japan I made a habit of engaging personnel at points of transactions from day one in whatever broken Japanese I’d acquired the day prior. Commencing days before my arrival, each passing day I learned what I believed to be useful at that very instant. I asked for directions in Japanese. I made effort to understand the reply. This would not have worked out if not for severe naivety, carrying myself as if the alternative hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Native Esperanto speakers exist, despite the relatively small number of cases (hundreds). A possible circumstance involves parents speaking Esperanto to the child as the prevalent language, albeit not necessarily the only one. The child thus grows up to speak Esperanto along with the other common language of the family.
Among countries of non-native speakers, I haven’t encountered a more naturally sounding North-American English dialect than in Sweden, particularly among the youth.
Brazil witnessed much polish immigration in the first part of the 20th century. Listening to some of the modern descendants speak Polish with Brazilian sonority makes for great entertainment.
I find the Polish language friendlier than Russian, incorporating more European loan words. I find an improvised English or Latin-derived word in Polish more natural. The Polish pronunciation sounds less Slavic; more Western European. Russian sounds harsher. Polish gentler, more aristocratic.
For Slavic language enthusiasts, I’ve countlessly made a case for Polish in favour of Russian. Opt for Russian for the more widespread cultural footprint, ie, if you love the literature. But if basic communication in a Slavic language is what you primarily seek, the Polish language
- Features a Latin/Roman alphabet in contrast to the Cyrillic, the latter seeming to (unnecessarily) distance aspiring learners.
- Sounds more pleasant to my ear.
- Presents friendlier phonetics to Speakers of many common Western languages.
- Despite the prevailing Russian-speaking population across the world, I encounter a comparable proportion of Polish speakers in my travels, if not more. It follows that unless you aim to live in a respective country, the choice of Polish over Russian doesn’t compromise your Slavic-language speaking opportunity. Head to Poland as a bonus.
I’ve known an Englishman in Warsaw for whom Slavic languages became a subject of endless passion. He spoke Russian with near fluency and hardly any perceivable accent. Polish, the language in which we mainly communicated, he spoke at least as well as I. He also commanded a decent amount of Ukrainian.
I’ve known a Brazilian in Salvador, Bahia, who never left the country. Yet he displayed such an authentic command of Russian that I at first assumed Caucasian origins. Online broadcasts and video chats made for his primary means of practice. He also bore the sort of personality that didn’t seem to much complain or seek unwarranted difficulty.
Grammar is for chumps, be academic pursuit not your ultimate goal. Sounds contrived, but I’ve said it. Years of Polish speaking and I still avoid or abuse the more obscure tenses and cases. No one has once commented to the regard. And yet the complex Polish grammar tends to frequently come up among non-Polish speakers, discussions tending towards the difficulty.
The following phenomenon deserves a name. Let’s call it phenomenon X. It follows:
I generally engage everyone in Brazil in Portuguese and have for years, this generally perceived as natural and unremarkable. Have from my first day of arrival. But on select occasions, I might commence in English (ie English-speaking Toastmasters clubs or English conversation event). At some point I might choose to switch to Portuguese. Now this too varies across the board, but too often the interlocutor reacts with some abrupt awe, seeming to grow a second brain. This alone wouldn’t concern me, but - the consequent interaction acquires an unnatural air. The interlocutor may initiate a series of concessions, speaking slower, more clearly, seeming to render me a favor (without demonstrated precedent) in light of my origin. In reality, this does nothing but spark annoyance and inauthenticity. For this reason (among others) I rather avoid English, especially as an opener.
Loud settings are generally believed to foster communication difficulties. But there’s a flip side. Noise levels imperfections and the less significant spikes that might otherwise trigger certain alarm and possibly Phenomenon X. The other day I conversed in Polish over a two-hour span in a moderately noisy bar setting, which, contrary to my traditional expectations, felt quiet natural.
Confident body language also diffuses uncertainty and avoids Phenomenon X. You can say something you know to be wrong or complete nonsense, but provided you do so with a perfectly natural voice and facial expression, without the slightest sign of strain, the interlocutor grants you the benefit of the doubt. Your outer projection speaks much.
Across the general populace of languages familiar to me, profanity manifests with equal agility. Nothing remarkable, yet the observation continues to amuse me. In colloquial language we typically find the one fouler word that easily invades any construction. The lexicon tends to also cater to a kinder alternative of a similar underlying nature. I encounter these recurring patterns everywhere.
Speaking a local language enriches communication in ways I cannot adequately ennumerate. Speak a language with sufficient fluency and the native might treat with far greater regard, if not like close family. Being a foreigner places you at an even further advantage of attaining familiarity without the prejudice among the native populace.
I’ve also observed this latter phenomenon to apply to inter-cultural exchanges of the same native language. For instance I’ve often felt greater ease in an interaction with a Russian-speaking Kazakh or Kirghiz than with a Russian or Ukrainian.
Questions, comments? Connect.