If I could speak three languages, this would be a very different post.

"The limits of my language mean the limits of my world."
Ludwig Wittgenstein

Today I flexed my new Korean skills and told my friends that (and I quote) the "stomach skin called me". What I meant to say, was "I called my family", but both the friends I was messaging and google translate assured me that was not what actually happened. 

Welcome to the perils of language learning.  

Before coming to Korea I knew that some people would likely speak English, and that I would be spending most of my days in English due to work. I didn't realize though how much all of the other time would be in English too. I was talking with my Dad today, and he said that he was realizing how different my "immersion" experience was compared to his. Both of my parents served missions for our church in different countries, Mom in Guatemala and Dad in Argentina. When Dad was there by about 6 months in he felt he had a decent mastery of the language and could express himself pretty well. In thinking of his experience and mine it became very apparent that mine could hardly be considered immersive. 

My work is done in pretty much 100% English and that's how I communicate with my coworkers. The guy at the my favorite convenience store talks to me in English. My church is full to the brim with people who either work in jobs where they use English, or they served missions where they spoke English. My friends all (clearly) speak at least a little English, and on the weekends I call my family, and most of them speak both the languages that I do. 

My dad and I concluded that I easily could go an entire week that's 99.98% English. If I want to have Korean in my life, I pretty much have to drag it kicking and screaming through my door. If you've ever had to drag anything that's kicking and screaming, you'll know it's messy and inelegant. 

So far in the last week(ish), I've discovered two bad words on accident, severely confused some new online language learning buddies, and took a phone call from not my family, but my stomach (honestly it makes no sense for those two words to be so similar). Somedays it feels like it's a miracle that I haven't accidentally started a world war.

I have learned how to express time, some of the counters they use (like "loaves" of bread, "dozen", things like that), I can order a lot better on my own now, and I can start making those uncomfortable technically correct sentences that everyone can understand but no one actually says. 

I know it's progress. I know that it's not forever. It drives me a little bit crazy. 

Some things I've observed and learned this time around learning Korean compared to when I learned Spanish:

One, I grew listening to my parents speak Spanish, and even though I didn't speak until later, I grew up knowing basic Spanish rules and pronunciations. I have 4 years of Korean tv and music under my belt with mild spurts of studying throughout. While helpful, it didn't equate to hearing it my whole life. 

Two, I wanted to learn a language that doesn't have a shared Latin background. I'm not saying I regret that just, but half the time with Spanish it worked just to make the English word sound Spanish. The rest you just memorized. So lets just say, making English words sound Korean really only works when you're ordering a chocolate smoothie at a cafe. Otherwise people just look at you really strangely. 

Three, this has nothing to do with Spanish. Guys, it has been YEARS it feels like since I've studied anything, and my brain is tired. It's stretching and expanding in ways that it has not done in a very long time, and while I'm grateful for all it's done, I have days where I think it's going to explode. My exchange group laughs when I tell them that, but they don't realize that they're likely going to be the ones on clean up when it happens. 

I mean, it kind of already has. We've all gotten pretty comfortable with each other, so when I'm sleep deprived but still trying to practice, they get it all. Sometime it's right. Most of the times it's not right. My Chinese buddy (who tested in at native Korean speaking levels), just laughs at me then tells me what I'm doing wrong. He'll then ask me when I'm going to be fluent yet, and somedays I seriously contemplate making being better at Korean than him my current life objective. Other days I contemplate hitting him over his smug head with his badminton bat. It's called balance. 

The only answer to all of this is work, focus, and dedication. The alternative is living by the mercy and kindness of the people here. Don't get me wrong, they are kind, and I'm grateful to them. But as I've said in previous posts, they didn't ask me to move here. I did that on my own. Everything they do is a gift, and eventually I want to be able to walk along side them, and not piggyback like I have been. 

So I'll study away, and I apologize in advance to all my friends who have to deal with the aftermaths of my brain exploding. But the stomach skin called, and said that today is not that day. 

-Shayla