Language and Listening

On my high school transcript, it says I have four years of foreign language. I took German (not a great choice, as far as hngr placement was concerned). German isn't a foreign language.

Thai is a foreign. language.

Sure, German had words I didn't know. And grammar was a little tricky, after the first year or two. But really...I mean, English is a Germanic language. Thai doesn't even use letters. The sentence structure is all different and a lot of things...well they really don't translate, not directly, anyway.

Thai is tonal, meaning that the same word can mean completely different things, depending on how it's said. Because of this, to a large extent, how you say something is what you're saying. As frustrating as that is to my Anglo mouth and ears, I'm learning to appreciate it. There's a lot to learn from the discipline of listening so closely, of speaking so carefully. Discipline, for starters. 

In the most recent hngr newsletter, Ryan wrote that "...most Americans do not know how to listen. The research shows that most Americans are externally motivated listeners, which means that we expect the speaker to motivate our listening by capturing and holding our attention.  We thus place greater emphasis on speaking than on listening.  This is perhaps why so much of our politics, theology and even family life are determined by loud, extroverted speakers who develop a cult of personality." That's absolutely true. As someone who is not the loudest most extroverted personality, I've prided myself on being an exception to that rule. I hear what people say, and I try to be sensitive about how they say it, to pick up on what they're communicating through that, as well. And I'm a pretty good listener. Or at least that's what I thought. 

Every day, Khru Nong, my Thai tutor, asks me what color shirt I'm wearing. And every time I take a deep breath, concentrate as hard as I can, and answer, "I'm wearing a blue tiger." 

Every time.

No matter how many times she repeats the two words, no matter how many times I repeat them after her, hoping that somehow by luck or chance or the mercy of a loving God I will hit upon the mysterious, inaudible difference between them--every time.

It's funny. We laugh about it. And Khru Nong assures me that I'll get it eventually. But at the same time, I'm developing an awe for the ears of the people who speak this language so effortlessly. And I'm so grateful and really stunned by the patience of all the people who will talk to me, despite my shortcomings and many, many mistakes. They take listening--which, frankly, I thought was my game--to a whole new level.

When I'm speaking Thai with someone, it's of course very slow and very broken. But when I listen to Thai speakers talk among themselves, as I'm trying to do more and more, I'm noticing that--though it's much smoother than my Thai is--it's not usually rushed. You can't rush some things in Thai; if you speak faster you change what you're saying. I hear the back-and-forth of words: 'calm down, farang. don't be in such a hurry all the time. we certainly aren't.'