Language
2007-09-28 | Filed under Uncategorized |
From time to time (November 2000, November 2004, etc.) I’ll idly think about places I’d be willing to live. I like seasons and Larry despises the heat, so many southern options are out. I find flatness subtly disturbing. Hawaii is pleasingly exotic—the natural features are different enough from the northeast that they register as alien and interesting rather than slightly off and therefore wrong. Manhattan’s great if you’re rich; so, I imagine, is London. Canada’s nice. I like koala bears and other Australian oddities, and the fact that my parents once toyed with the possibility of moving there leave me favorably disposed toward the continent.
One practical element of these idle musings is language. I don’t like the fact that I can only speak one language (aside from horribly rusty tourist French, Sesame Street Spanish, and half a dozen words of Welsh and German). Every so often I vow to rectify this displeasing relic of my U.S. education, but I never get around to it. I can’t imagine wanting to live in a place where English was not the primary language (or one of them).
Some of the things Olen Steinhauer says about the expat lifestyle support that feeling. I already have strong introvert tendencies. Most of my socialization is with a small group of friends. It’s a satisfying situation, but part of that satisfaction is due to the fact that I’m not artificially limited to socializing with those individuals. I could (and do) find other friends, without a care for a language barrier; when I don’t it’s a sign of (uncharitably) laziness or (charitably and, I think, more accurately) my active preference for playing a Ninja Burgers & Superspies RPG tonight rather than venturing forth to seek out new friends.
If I was surrounded primarily by people speaking a different language, I don’t think I’d fare well. I spend enough time in my own head. Not an unhealthy amount of time, at least I don’t think it is; but it’s probably approaching the borderline.
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