„Why in English?“, a friend of mine asked the other day. Wouldn’t it be difficult or at least uncomfortable to write a regular blog in a foreign language?
Yes, I admit it can be tricky. My brain is German wired.
In my native language I can play with words and terms. I can use irony and „subtext“ to give it color and a distinctive meaning.
Not so much in a foreign language.
But this doesn’t really matter.
It's music
I have always had an affinity to languages. It’s the special sound, the music, the swing of a foreign idiom that appeals to me.
It opens up another world.
One of my favorites: Italian.
I don’t speak it, but I love its musicality. Listening to Italian makes me feel like life was nothing but a colorful opera.
So, every language comes with a very distinctive touch.
Use it - or you lose it
But having the affinity to a language is one thing. Being able to live and act in it is a different story.
This is when English comes into play.
It has been around for a long time. I have always had an opportunity to use it. And – my love for rock music made it easy to really dive into it.
No other foreign language has ever been so familiar and easy to approach.
This became very clear when my partner and I made a trip to the Canadian Province of Quebec. Once you cross the Saint Laurent and leave the English speaking side behind, it’s French only. Period.
I had taken French at school for six years. My partner had even lived and worked in France for quite a while.
Anyway, we both hadn’t spoken French for a long time. And how rusty it had become we realized when we wanted to start a communication. We stammered something like: „Je, je voudrais… o… ah… mmh… parlez-vous Anglais?“
The secret of "Tricky Dick"
So why has English always been my number one?
Actually, my affinity to this language goes back to my childhood – and the magic of a toffee.
In the Fifties, my father worked with the British. Every once in a while, my parents threw a dinner party for his colleagues. And then these distinguished gentlemen arrived, very collected and polite, with the typical stiff upper lip.
Apart from saying hello they usually ignored me, and I squeezed myself into a corner, curious enough to take a look, but shy enough to stay in the background.
Back in those days, children had to shut up, behave and not disturb the grownups. That was true for Germany and England just the same.
But one of the gents was different.
His name was Mr. Dick.
He always came in a classical outfit – trenchcoat, bowler, umbrella and perfectly polished black leather shoes. A pleasant man with a sense of humour and entertainment, interested to talk to anyone in the room.
Obviously, Mr. Dick had an ambition to persuade me out of my shell and teach me some English. At least enough to have a friendly small talk whenever we met.
So, Mr. Dick smiled at me and indicated a slight bow.
„Good evening“, he said. „How do you do?“
Now, I knew I was supposed to answer: „O, I am fine. Thank you. How are you?“
„Very well indeed, dear girl“, he said. And then – drumroll – he drew something from his coat pocket that made my mouth water.
„This is extra fine English toffee. From London. Especially for you.“
And he gave me a little tin box with a picture of Big Ben and a Union Jack on the lid.
Wow! I was allowed to open it and take a piece.
„Only one a day“, Mr. Dick said. „They are not readily available.“
I thanked him with a perfect curtsy and rushed away with my treasure.
Did I want to learn more English? Of course.
The better my speaking ability would develop, the more wonderful vanilla flavoured toffees I could expect.
Unfortunately, Mr. Dick was transferred back to England after a while. But his toffee treatment had done the magic trick.
My love for the English language has grown ever since.
And I enjoy listening, reading, speaking and writing in English, whenever I have the opportunity.
