Jack Tame: Learning a new language is humbling but so rewarding

As someone who considers themself at least semi-literate, with the benefit of a reasonable education and at least a passing interest in the world, I can confirm there is nothing quite so humbling in middle-age as learning a new language.   

At short notice, I’m hoping to briefly visit a Latin American country for my work in a few weeks’ time, and in preparation this week I downloaded a few apps and subscribed to podcasts to try and re-up my Spanish.  

My history with Spanish is one of big surges and even bigger retreats.   

I studied it until seventh form at high school. I wasn’t very good but at least I learnt a few nouns and could ask some basic questions.   

But when I moved to New York as a 24-year-old I decided to learn Spanish in a way I never had when I was a teenager. I moved to a Latin neighbourhood. I did thrice-weekly lessons on Skype, just speaking with a tutor friend in Mexico’s south.   

After a few months of studying, I decided to visit her.    

“Estoy excitado,” I said, trying to express my excitement at the impending trip. My tutor laughed and explained that’d just informed a conservative Catholic mother that I was horny.   

“Gaah... estoy tan embarazada!” I blushed.   

She bent over in laughter again. Turns out embarazada is not embarassed. Embarazada is pregnant.    

It’s amazing what immersion will do though. When I visited Chiapas, I’d collapse in bed, exhausted at the end of every day from 12-hours of speaking. But after just a few weeks, I could swear I was just starting to dream in Spanish. That’s when you know it’s sticking.  

Then, though. Oof. An almighty retreat. I fell out of lessons and Spanish fell out of my head. I eventually moved home and studied Māori, which I absolutely loved, but which has a similar vowel sound to Spanish. Often over the years when I’ve reached for the word, I’ve pulled a noun from the wrong language. And now, I’m embarrassed to admit that although my wife is Persian, in Farsi I can’t even say hello.  

There are some people though, for whom language comes easier than others. I’m good with sound and speaking with false confidence but very poor with grammar. My brother is much more studious, but I swear he also just gets grammatical structure. It’s like he sees the matrix when he’s studying language.   

I’m fascinated by people who can speak many languages. There’s a New Zealander named Harold Williams, who basically no one has ever heard of, who is considered one of the greatest polyglots in history. He was the foreign editor for The Times in London and spoke as many as 58 languages. As a lad in Christchurch in the late 1800s, he described having a ‘brain explosion’ when he was about seven-years-old. He bought himself the New Testament in every language his bookshop could order and taught himself that way.   

Our historic comfort in our majority monolingualism is one of the great faults of New Zealand culture. It’s sloppy. Insular. It’s embarrassing to visit poor neighbourhoods in poor countries and realise that despite the relative lack of educational opportunities, kids can speak more languages than many or most of us can. It’s wonderful to see the revitalisation of te reo Māori, but New Zealand must still be one of the most monolingual developed countries on Earth.   

So, here we go again. Like trying to start a lawnmower that’s been sitting in the shed for fifteen years, I’m pulling at the starter cord and pleading the engine to fire.   

“The cat likes to sleep.”  

“I would like to buy a ticket for the train.”  

It’s so humbling to go so far back. Embarazada, even. And yet still so rewarding when you feel something stick. Excitado!  

That’s the thing about language. More than vowels and consonants

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:07):
You're listening to the Saturday Morning with Jack Team podcast
from News Talks.

Speaker 2 (00:11):
At me, as someone who considers themselves at least semi literate,
with the benefit of a reasonable education and at least
a passing interest in the world, I can confirm there
is nothing there is nothing quite so humbling in middle
age as trying to learn a new language at short notice.

(00:34):
I'm hoping to briefly visit a Latin American country for
my work in a few weeks time, and so in
preparation this week, I downloaded a few apps and subscribe
to some podcasts to try and re up my Spanish. Now,
my history with Spanish is one of really big surges
and then even bigger retreats. I studied it at high

(00:58):
school until about seventh form. I wasn't very good. In fact,
I was very bad, but at the very least I
learned a few nouns and I could ask some basic questions.
But then when I moved to New York in my twenties,
I decided that I would learn Spanish in a way
that I never had when I was a teenager. I
deliberately moved to a Latin neighborhood. I did thrice weekly

(01:18):
lessons on Skype, just just speaking with a tutor friend
in Mexico's South. After a few months of studying, I
decided to visit her is stoy ex citalo, I said,
trying to express my excitement at the impending trip. Once
I bought my tickets, my tutor just burst into laughter

(01:40):
and explained that I had just informed a conservative Catholic
mother that I was horny.

Speaker 3 (01:46):
Ah Ga, h is stoi tan embarrazada, I blushed, She
bent over and laughter again.

Speaker 2 (01:58):
Turns out m barrazada does not mean embarrassed. Embarrazada means pregnant.
What immersion will do, though, Ah When I visited Chapas,
I would collapse and be exhausted at the end of
every day from twelve hours of speaking. But honestly, after
just a few weeks I could swear I was just

(02:20):
starting to dream in Spanish, and that's when you know
that it's sticking. Then, though, ugh an almighty retreat, I
fell out of lessons and Spanish fell out of my head.
I eventually moved home and I studied MILDI, which I
absolutely loved, but which has a similar vowel sound to

(02:40):
Spanish and often over the years, when I've reached for
a word, I've pulled a noun from the wrong language.
And now it's even more complicated. I'm embarrassed to admit that,
although my wife is Persian in Farsi, I can't even
say hello. Now, there are some people for whom language
comes a whole lot easier than it does for me.

(03:03):
I'm always so envious. See See, I'm really good with sound,
I'm really good with languages sound, and I'm good at
speaking with false confidence. But I'm very poor with grammar.
My brother, on the other hand, is much more studious
than me, but I swear he also just he gets
grammatical structures. It's like he sees the matrix when he's

(03:24):
studying language. And I'm fascinated by people who can speak
multiple languages. There's this New Zealander, a guy called Harold Williams,
who basically no one has ever heard of, who is
widely considered one of the greatest polyglots in history. He
was the foreign editor for the Times newspaper in London,
a foreign correspondent, and spoke as many as fifty eight

(03:48):
different languages, yeah fifty eight. As a lad in christ
Church in the late eighteen hundreds. He said that he
one day woke up and felt like he had a
brain explosion. That's how he described it. When he was
about seven years old, and he just started buying himself
copies of the New Testament in every language that his
bookshop could order, and he taught himself languages that way.

(04:13):
I reckon our historic comfort in our majority monolingualism is
maybe one of the great faults of New Zealand culture.
It's really sloppy, it's really insular, and honestly, it's embarrassing

(04:33):
to visit poor neighborhoods in poor countries and realize that,
despite the relative lack of educational opportunities, kids can speak
many more languages than most of us can. It's wonderful
to see the revitalization of Taday or Maudi, but New
Zealand must still be one of the most monolingual developed

(04:55):
countries on Earth. So here we go again. Like trying
to start a lawn mower that has been sitting in
the shed for fifteen years, I am pulling at the
starter a chord and pleading the engine to fire. The
cat likes to sleep. I would like to buy a

(05:18):
ticket for the train ugh. It is just so humbling
to go so far back m batazada even, and yet
still so rewarding when you feel something stick exitao. That's
the thing about language, a more than vowels and consonants.
It's the front door to culture, a gate to a

(05:41):
whole new world.

Speaker 1 (05:43):
For more from Saturday Morning with Jack Tame, listen live
to News talks'd B from nine am Saturday, or follow
the podcast on iHeartRadio.