I think it is the single most important obstacle to overcome when living in a foreign country.
The brain does some funny things when it's seeking to communicate. Upon arrival in Germany, it took me weeks to filter out what signs and words were unimportant. Those early days, when someone spoke to me and I managed to hear just one word that I recognized, I did the silent happy dance.
It took me six phone calls to make a pediatrician's appointment. Six.
Everyone does not speak English.
Yes, it's more common here to speak a second language. It's easy to feel a little embarrassed that I only speak some German. I did, however, have a conversation once with a non-English speaker who gave me an interesting perspective. They said that it was easy to choose English as a second language, as English is so commonly spoken. When you are American, though, what second language do you choose?
I never though of it that way.
Our first years here, I had a tutor. He was quirky and effective. He came while the kids were napping and I did my homework pretty diligently. Soon enough, I was ordering from the butcher and feeling more confident. I could usually make myself understood, though my German was (and is) only conversational. To speak better, I needed to speak more often.
With two small kiddos at home, I only spoke German out shopping or with the local Kindergarten. I was pleased to be included in playdates and in the chat circles at Kindergarten, but I was continually frustrated that I could not communicate better. The German moms were so patient with me.
Conversation was broad brush strokes, not fine details.
Thankfully, my brain has found the German again, but I am frustrated that I've hit a wall. I need to find a tutor to get me over the hump. But when to have a tutor?
Kids to school, grocery shop, clean house, play with toddler, homework with kids, cook dinner, pay attention to love of my life...
I am in awe of those who move to another country and conquer that language hurdle. I have learned that it is a messy and bumpy process. I never imagined that I would cease to care if I used the correct article with my noun. I have learned to speak quickly, swallow my endings, and keep trying, even when I picked the completely wrong verb.
I think I can improve, though. I know I can.
Visions of being perfectly fluent? Better let that go and keep my sanity so my family will keep me.
I need to be pleased that when I try to speak German with someone, they don't automatically switch to English. Usually.
I need to not feel the panic run through my entire body when the mechanic gives me the breakdown of the car repair and I barely made it past the first sentence.
I need embrace the joy of being able to help friends and family buy some seriously delicious ice cream.
Most of all? I love to hear Ada ask for Laugenbroetchen. Cute. As. Pie.
