¨Saturday go football.¨
¨Okay,¨ I respond hoping that some more information is coming my way.
¨You go?¨
¨No, I did not go to football on Saturday.¨ I take a guess to see if this is for the past or the future.
¨No, no, you go Saturday.¨
¨Ohhh, okay, I will go on Saturday.¨
From the moment we passed through the police in green military uniforms guarding the exit-only glass door, my conversations in English have been of this form. Missing verb tenses and lacking in what I consider crucial information.
Before the flight across the world to a place I had only heard of in soccer contexts, I believed that my English would be a benefit to us. In some ways it has helped us, but not how I thought. After living in the overseas work world for many years, I valued my ability to speak English. I was living in Mexico and found that even though Spanish had a lot of resources for professional development or spiritual growth, a lot of them had been translated from English. The options for courses in English far outweigh those in Spanish and definitely more than this third language I am trying to acquire.
We also knew that in most other countries, conferences would be held in English. Students across the world study English to be able to articulate themselves in a global context. And now here in Laos, sometimes they need this foreign language to articulate themselves locally too. We invested in my husband´s, Misa´s, English abilities before coming. With the birth of Camilo and my constant chatter to our new baby, Misa was able to pick up on a lot. But we thought it still wasn’t enough.
But even since our first day, Misa is able to communicate himself in this language more effectively than I am most times. For me, English, my language, is so rich and specific. When you search for any word in a thesaurus, you get a list of 20 others similar to it. We use the most specific one for the context at hand. The order in which our words fall has meaning. The inflections we use on each word have meaning. When half of the words disappear from the sentences, this new language loses me. I can´t identify with the culture behind the speech anymore.
It is no longer my language.
English vocabulary, but a language more simple for those like my husband who work well in ambiguous situations.
As we travel down the road with all street signs written in Lao above, English below, and often French or Chinese below that, we try to follow what they say. To me it all remains too ambiguous. From the billboard that says, ¨Drink, don´t drive.¨ to the simple traffic sign that warns, ¨People busy,¨ instead of mentioning construction workers in movement ahead. I have to go through several layers of thought before understanding such ideas. Like translating in my head to this new language. In conversations and days where communication comes in broken form, this translation is exhausting. Less now than when we arrived.
We walk into a pharmacy where an employee looks at me, points at Camilo, and asks, ¨What my name?¨ I just chuckle to myself and reply, ¨Camilo.¨
A friend comes over and I ask, ¨Did you enjoy the game today?¨ I am met with a confused glare. Misa sweeps in and says, ¨Game today you like? No like?¨ And there is an understanding positive response. I appreciate how Misa is so easy going that he can navigate the situation with basic words because it is all about principles and context. And when he gets it wrong, he is always prepared with a good two-word joke to smooth it over.
There have been numerous times here where we have had to fill in the holes of previous conversations. That has led us to arriving at sporting events we thought were special dinners or to special church services in our soccer uniforms. We have rushed ourselves out the door to find vacant fields and we have also been surprised by parties hosted in our own home. We have been given special prizes from our gym with phrases like, ¨Get hard or go home,¨ which I will never make an appearance in. It has been an adventure laced with flexibility.
I genuinely appreciate the effort others make to communicate with me here. It is much more comfortable than always feeling excluded. And I am thankful that English is my native tongue. Before my preparation to come to Laos, I did not even know what language was spoken here, let alone attempt to learn it. What humbleness I see from the locals in my daily life.
So if you see me in this next year speaking in short simple sentences or without conjugating my verbs, don´t be surprised. Trying to communicate effectively becomes a habit.