prepositions

Prepositions (those little words like on, at, before, with, as, for . . . ) are often the most difficult part of any language for new learners to grasp. For instance, why do we say "John is waiting for you AT the bus stop," "He's waiting IN line," and "He's waiting for you ON the street?" (Yes, of course there is a very detailed linguistic explanation, but they're all places, for heaven's sake!) I am dreading having to teach the nuances of these little words to some unsuspecting, wide-eyed Spanish student.

In fact, prepositions are single-handedly the source of all my negative feelings towards German, and if I decide to give up and stop studying the language, I will have only them to blame.

But here is one argument in defense of their importance (and the dire consequences of getting them wrong):

spanish customer service

Today I called the Spanish consulate in San Francisco because I had a question about the visa process. The clerk's short response to my inquiry: 

"I don't know. Send an email." *click*

Spain! How could I forget about your top-notch customer service? About the time when I stood in line at Zara for ten minutes without being helped while your employees discussed dinner with their boyfriends! How excited I am to return to the land where bus drivers could make me tear up with one harsh glance; where grocery store clerks made me feel like I should instantly deport myself; where waiters acted like it was a catastrophe that I asked for water.

But Spain, your unwillingness to help does not deter me. I will get my visa one way or another. I will return to your country and I'll put a smile on, even as it takes you one month to install my internet and another three for my landlord to fix the electrical outlets.

Source.

P.S. Sometimes, to remember that good people still exist, I call the customer service line for my U.S. bank. They have mastered the art of faking that they love and cherish you. I wish I could be friends with some Charles Schwab employees in real life.

here we go again....

I found out today that my future is not hopeless, that I will not be living in my childhood room forever, that I won't have to become a maid: I officially received a spot as a North American Language and Culture Ambassador in Spain. It's a fancy term for what is essentially a teacher's assistant position in a bilingual elementary or middle school. I applied way back in January, and Spain's delightful government has held true to their time-honored tradition of sluggishness. The deadline was pushed back three times, but they FINALLY gave us placements!

I'll be heading to Basque Country in the north, my first choice. As much as I fell in love with Granada last year, I wanted a change of pace, and northern Spain (and Basque Country in particular, for political and cultural regions) is almost like an entirely separate country. The food, weather, landscape, and people are all remarkably different.

San Sebastián, no wonder everyone loves you

Honestly, when I was studying abroad I was loving (almost) every minute of it, but I never thought I would be back to Spain semi-permanently. A year of siestas and tapas was great, but I didn't see myself working or settling there. But Spain's Ministry of Education entices North Americans with an English assistant position of just 12 hours a week, a stipend that is certainly enough to live on, and a sure-fire way to secure a European visa (and delay the 9-5 American cubicle for a year or two). It's an opportunity to work (quarter-time!), travel and continue to study Spanish. From reading several blogs from veterans of the program, I know it won't be a bed of roses. As expected, this is due to Spain's general lack of organization, translating into a program that is said to be less than seamless (sometimes payment is even months delayed! Ugh.) But the more I think about moving back, the more excited I get. A second time around means less culture shock, less language barriers, and more opportunity to make the most of it. I loved Basque Country when I visited it last May with my family, and I'm so thrilled to have the opportunity to get to know it as well as I knew Granada.

I also plan on focusing more on blogging while over there, and making more consistant and polished posts. I'm proud of my first Spain blog, but let's admit, many of the posts read something like, "OMGGGGGG lovvvvvving Spain right now, free tapas are soooo good! Also we stayed out till 7 a.m. at the discoteca, how cool are we and how crazy is this country????" So one goal while in Spain is to grow with my writing. (That said, don't expect a Pulitzer Prize :)

P.S. Check out my post from Basque Country, from my Spain blog. We didn't do much more than lay on beaches and eat (which is obviously why I want to go back).

my future looks dim

I’ve spent lots of mental energy this year memorizing German nouns and generating ways to fall asleep amidst my neighbor’s raging dub-step music. But I've spent substantially less time considering what comes next. With less than a quarter left of college, maybe today should be the day I give some thought to my future.

So I head into the Career Services Center. After browsing the shelves (wishing I had done this three years ago), I decide to take an online careers test. It involves checking off boxes for specific programs of interest, special qualifications, school subjects you like, desired hours, and positions you want to avoid.

Imagining how my favorite classes in Linguistics, Psychology, Foreign Languages, and History might translate into a real-world paycheck, I mark hospitality and tourism; education and training; marketing; and human services.  I give myself mostly high marks for all forms of basic skills (“proficient” in Microsoft Word), and I’m not too picky when it comes to working hours or positions. Hell, give me the graveyard shift! I’m young and fresh.

My test yields 17 careers. Possibilities! Direction! Maybe today will be the day I set out on the path of adulthood. I never had a Bat Mitzvah or Confirmation, but perhaps a visit to Career Services will be my coming-of-age ritual.

I glance at the list.  Nearly a third of my options revolve around the food industry.  "Chef. Restaurant cook. Industrial/Cafeteria Cook. Short Order Cook. Fast Food Cook." The relevance to my Linguistics major escapes me. Is this all my degree is good for? Besides,   Be I'm a vegetarian who never eats fast food, so with the latter I wouldn't even benefit from the employee discount.

I'm a little spooked, and not just from wondering why I bothered to go to college.  I checked no box indicating the many hours I spend glued to the Food Network, and yet the computer seemed to intuitively sense my love for the show Chopped. Or maybe it discerned that the whole time I was taking the test, I was dreaming about the grilled cheese I’d make when I got home. Intuition has its limits, though: The computer failed to register that any inclination toward a career in the food industry had been thoroughly extinguished the day before at my dining hall job, when I removed the fibrous ends of sugar snap peas by hand for two hours. Anyway, I'm graduating from a liberal arts university, not Le Cordon Bleu.

I scroll on. Please let this quiz enlighten me. Please point me on my future path. There has got to be a high-paying Eat, Pray, Love sort of job out there. How did Elizabeth Gilbert make a living by eating pasta and meditating?

Next up, I read: Director of Religious Activities.

Perhaps that’s the “pray” part of the job. But is this test some sort of prank? I can count on one hand the number of times I've been to church. I’m an atheist. And would God approve of the beer pong socials I’d plan as Activities Director?

I reach the bottom of the short list, where the computer program suggests a final career option: Maid/Cleaner

So THIS is my college dream, come to fruition! Why my parents pinched pennies to finance my education! Maybe a Bachelor's degree is the new prerequisite for a lifetime of mopping in this ever-competitive job market. Did I mention my GPA is 3.92? That I'm hardworking, outgoing, and reliable? That I've scrubbed our shower and dusted our furniture exactly never this year?

I adjust my search in the side-bar to include my preferred salary range. Since it's too late to study computer engineering, I don't see myself making a fortune, but I want to be comfortable and independent. So I check the box for a reasonable $60,000 and up, hoping that more sophisticated titles like “Dean of Admissions, Harvard" might replace the entry-level jobs that seem to be my future.

A message pops up on the screen: “We're sorry, no matches could be found to fit all the selected criteria." Apparently both money and job fulfillment really is too much to ask.

Career Services has an entire wall devoted to “How-To" sheets; rows of GRE-prep books; tips on resume-writing, securing internships, or asking for letters of recommendation. But even they don't have a clue what I should do with my life. Perhaps on the far-back wall, tucked between “So You Want To Be A Therapist?" and “Jobs In The U.S. Government," there should be a special pamphlet just for me: “Learn To Settle: The How-To On Flipping Burgers."

spacial relations

           One of the textbooks for my Endangered Language class, Dying Words, is simply blowing my mind. I thought I'd share here some interesting facts I've come across, just to prove that reading for class can sometimes be worth it :)

           There are some (actually many!) languages in the world that don't use relative terms such as right or left  to describe spatial relations, but instead use an absolutist system. This refers to cardinal directions: north, south, east, west. So instead of saying, “My car is the one on the right," you would say “Mine is the eastern-most car," or what have you.
           This means that speakers of these languages are always intrinsically spatially oriented. Linguists did a study to test whether speakers of these languages had a better internal sense of direction than those that spoke a language that uses relative terms, such as English or Spanish. They went out into the middle of the Australian bush and asked speakers of the language Guugu Yimithirr to point to the direction of various well-known locations, and then checked these responses with a compass. The subjects pointed in the right direction 96 PERCENT OF THE TIME. Automatically. They did this in multiple studies, including in closed examination rooms with no windows. I hope your jaw just dropped.
           Think how hard it would be to learn this type of language, coming from an English background (or any other language that uses a relative system). The author explains the difficult process of learning Kayardild (a language indigenous to Australia, with only 23 speakers left!). He had to be acutely aware of his surroundings at every moment, because even the greeting in this language touched upon spacial relations: there is no word for hello, and instead a typical first encounter might be something like, “Where are you going?" “I'm going northward."
           And here I am, thinking it's nearly impossible to memorize all the genders and cases in German. Now I see I have it easy--just imagine if I had to whip out a compass any time I wanted to say hello to someone!

children of linguists

          What's the first thing you would ask when inquiring about someone's toddler? I would think to say something like, Has he started walking yet? How's the potty training going? Has he developed a keen interest in train sets and dinosaur figurines?
          Today I overheard a conversation between my linguistics professor and a graduate student in my class. It went like this:

Student: How's your little girl doing?
Prof: She's great, thanks. Her phonetics are still lacking; she can't quite produce consonant                clusters yet. Her syntax is really advanced though.
Student: Oh really? How so?
Prof: The other day she said to me,  “I don't like these crackers. Are you a fan?”
(Group laughter; a few expressive “wow”s. General consensus of amazement and approval.).
Student: How's her vowel space?
Prof: It's coming along. She's mastered several dipthongs already.

          At first I assumed they were joking. I thought they were recognizing their own linguistic obsessions and mocking themselves for it. I expected the conversation to turn at any moment to The Terrible Twos or first play dates. But no, it just hovered around vowel and consonant production. Linguists may have just officially beaten out astrophysicists for the Number One Nerd slot.