listening

Hi Honey,

Wondering where you are in all of your family changes. Hoping it's all going well, and settles smoothly soon.  If I can help, let me know.

 I had two experiences on the bus that echoed each other I have been thinking about them - not sure of the lesson.  I usually get in line and sit in the next available seat. So I was in the middle of an Amish crowd.  Once we were seated, I was surrounded, completely surrounded, by Amish folk of all ages.  Of course they were speaking Pennsylvania Dutch to each other. And what I noticed is that when you know others can't understand you, there's a freedom to raise your voice, to speak as loudly as you like.

Why do we do that?  Most conversations were very quiet.  But not the German one.

Later on, I got on a bus and a mother with four teenagers had put each one of her kids in their own double seat, completely surrounding her. I sat down with the youngest, a girl of 13 or 14.  I think the mother was trying to get her to move, to go sit with her mother.  But petulant teenage girl attitude is translatable into every language - she was not cooperating.  The family seemed to be middle Asian, and maybe they were Sikh. The girls all had their hair down,but the two sons had their heads wrapped in colorful cloths, with top knots that seemed to hold their hair.  That was interesting, because it seems most cultures force women to cover their hair, not the men.

Again, though, they spoke a different language, and loudly.  The mother did eventually force the youngest to sit with her by asking me to change places with her.  The whole interaction was strange.

But it was fascinating to sit in the middle of a group, listen to them speaking freely and pay attention to the intonation.  I could tell who was a good story teller.  I could interpret the culture, a little bit.  For instance, the Amish men spent time listening to one young mother.  They really seemed to care what she had to say. 

For a language teacher, it was also interesting to experience that feeling of understanding nothing.  I know my students feel that way sometimes, when we speak too fast or when they are tired and stressed or when they are just beginning to learn.  I felt that way sometimes when I was learning Spanish, but the reminder will make me a better teacher.

I was not ready to come home when it was time to leave.  I missed these kids a lot, and they welcomed me home and needed me.  But there's a soft, open spot for the far away kids. I'm still feeling how much I miss them.  I usually end up shutting that off, I can't stand the pain. But for now, I think I will savor it.

I hope all is well with you.

Love and hugs,

Clare