(Pictures: The world out our front door; Grace & Megan in local dress; Our current team; Grace our good eater, eating the local favorite and doing her sign for more food)We have been here for just over three months now, and when we talk to folks back in the States, this seems to be the most common question—and with good reason. Language is our life and work. Language follows us throughout the day as we study, listen and speak. “How would I say that?” “Did I use the proper tense?” “What is the word…I know I’ve learned it before.” Questions like these seem to haunt us throughout the day.
But the biggest difference about learning language ‘on the streets’ and learning language in a classroom is that for us, every day we are quizzed on our knowledge. Every time we step outside or hear a knock at the door, we can expect to be challenged to show off what we know. Sometimes we fail miserably. Other times we surprise ourselves and our neighbors.We read a story recently about a woman who was gripped with fear for over 20 years. She could not leave her house. What would happen to her once she stepped out the door? She could be mugged? Or get lost? Or something worse? She became so fixated upon awful possibilities that she chose instead to not take any chances. There was a time when we might have read this article and thought—What a crazy person! But in our new context, we have found a bit of sympathy for her. We know a bit of the fear she faced.
Our front door is a portal to a world of pain and possibility. To step over the threshold is to enter into a world where we have little control. Where we understand only a limited amount of what is said to us. Where adults and even children might mock us if they wish and we can do little to retort, but where we may also learn new things, meet many smiles, and make new friends.I find myself taking a deep breath before opening the door—like jumping into a swimming pool. The water is cold at first, but after an adjustment it starts to feel good. So it is when we step out the door. There is always a moment of trepidation. Are we ready to go out again? Do we have the energy? Do we know what to expect? Many times, the answer to these questions feels like No. No. And No. But then we cross the threshold and take the plunge. We are out in the wider world using our language, and it feels good.
“So, how is language going?” I think the only fair answer is, “Slow and steady.” The victories aren’t always apparent, but they do come. The sheer amount of time and energy involved is overwhelming, so we take it day to day and look for small victories. No one will necessarily congratulate us or notice if we use the right conjugation or preposition, but we do. We’ve gotten very good at the greetings. People can pretty much throw anything at us now and we can respond correctly. (They love to test us with little used or complicated greetings.) We can make short sentences and answer simple questions, but we speak slowly. We are thankful for the neighbors that are patient with us. As for the one’s that aren’t—we can understand their frustration. We wish we could speak more quickly and understand more. We are making progress, but “slowly, slowly.” This is what we tell people here: “We are learning slowly, slowly.”
PRAYERS ANSWERED
Praise God that our neighbors’ child is doing much better. We hope our neighbor knows that our prayers had something to do with it. We have had an okay week as far as language goes, with moments of encouragement that felt good.
PRAYERS REQUESTED
Both Grace and Megan have been under the weather this week. Grace had an especially hard time sleeping last night (which means we also had a hard time sleeping.) Pray that they would be fully healed. We are gearing up for our new teammates to come out next month. Join us in praying for their new homes, their transition, and for the bonding of our new and improved team. As a team, we are also praying about a lot of different projects we could be involved in or undertake. Pray that we would know how best to use our time and resources.
