Toungue Tied

After a little over a week in Germany, my German is nearly at the same level as it was when I was 18. I’d say I speak German and French at about the same level but I understand German considerably better than French. As an example, when I hear a German song, even if it is rap, I understand most of it. I only understand French songs it if it is slow and if the lyrics are louder than the instruments. German is buried deep in my soul. I’ve been interacting with German since I was 12, nearly half of my little life.

With some people I regularly speak both English and one of the foreign languages. When I reflect on conversations with someone I regularly speak two languages with I sometimes forget which language we used. In both German and French, I’m fluent in small talk. I can talk with someone about their day, their family, their interests, job, etc. Talking about politics, life philosophy, and other soul bending conversations in German or French are much harder but I think I’ll get their. I’ve had several good conversations with Patrizia’s dad, Klaus. It is extremely hard to express my ideas, but I feel sure I understand his. I know our conversations end sooner than they would if I were more fluent, but I appreciate them so much nevertheless.