#verb conjugations in spanish are a NIGHTMARE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lpwrites · 2 years

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pass/fail

Day One - A Teenage Boy

Scott had a weird relationship with Spanish. His parents both spoke Spanish, and he got the gist of it most of the time, but when it came to figuring out conjugations and irregular verbs and whether a noun was la or el or both, Scott wouldn’t have known where to start. His mom had suggested taking Spanish with Stiles, and the idea of it had felt good at the time.

Sitting in class, watching Mrs. Flores pass out tests face down, Scott liked it less and less.

(It wasn’t that he hadn’t studied, or that he didn’t care about the class. But his nightmares were getting worse, and he kept waking up with leaves in his bed, like he had spent the entire night running through the preserve, and the nagging feeling that his dreams weren’t dreams but memories of him hunting people and hurting them made focusing on the test material near impossible.)

He braced himself as the paper slid across his desk, waiting until Mrs. Flores moved onto Stiles before flipping it over.

The words were written in red ink, stark against the black and white of his test: See me after class please.

No grade, though there was enough red ink dancing between the answers on his test for Scott to assume it wasn’t great. Stiles winced when he saw the paper, quickly tucking his own into his backpack, but not before Scott spotted a passing grade in green.

“I really wish she wouldn’t color code tests,” Scott sighed, slumping in his seat.

“Hey, it’s the ADHD vibe, don’t hate.” Stiles squeezed his shoulder in support. “Besides, you can make it up, right? Mrs. Flores is cool, she’s probably just gonna make you retake it next week.”

“I don’t have the time to retake a test, I barely had time to study for it this time.” Between work, struggling to control the urges that came with being a new werewolf, and figuring out what was going on with Derek and the Alpha, Scott barely had time for himself, much less for schoolwork. The test in his hands was only one of many low scores he’d received during the week, but the first with any comments from his teachers.

“It’s fine,” Stiles insisted, dropping his hand off Scott’s shoulder as the bell rang to dismiss the class. “It’s not like she’s gonna give you detention. She’s not Coach.”

“Yeah…” It felt like it took ages for the class to empty, Scott lingering awkwardly by the door while pretending he wasn’t waiting. Mrs. Flores, for her part, didn’t seem to mind, putting up homework assignments into their corresponding drawers on the shelf beside her desk.

Once the last student left, and the door shut, Mrs. Flores turned to face him with a smile.

“Take a seat, Scott.” She motioned towards a seat in the front row, waiting for Scott to drop his bag before she moved around the front of her desk. She smiled again, reassuring, but there was something weird in the air, a taste Scott had never experienced, or a smell he’d never noticed, thick and not quite bitter, oppressive enough to get stuck in his throat.

(Apprehension was not a smell Scott thought he would become so accustomed to, later, but he supposed there could be worse things.)

“Scott…” She began but faltered, pausing to measure her words as the smell in the air got stronger. “I’m… concerned about a couple of things I’ve noticed, recently.”

“Like what?” Normally, Scott liked Mrs. Flores. Her lessons were great and her class never dragged, but he’d never seen her like this – anxious? Uneasy? It was strange, seeing an adult look so out of their depth, more so because it seemed to be because of him.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright at home?” She finally broached, mouth twisting at how awkwardly the words fell from her mouth. “Is your mom doing okay?”

Startled, Scott sat up, the lump in his throat solidifying into something cold and heavy. “Yeah! Yeah, my mom’s fine… why? Is something wrong? Did something happen to my mom?”

And maybe it was the anxiety in the room, the issue Mrs. Flores seemed to be tip-toeing around, that shot Scott’s heart rate up, drumming against his ribs, the pounding almost deafening. He fumbled for his bag, making to scramble out of the room and run all the way to the hospital if he had to, before his fingers caught on the straps. Or rather, his claws, fingers twisted awkwardly into the material, tangling with the much sharper nails on his hand.

“Scott!” The roaring in his ears ceased all at once, jarring as he realized Mrs. Flores had lunged forward, holding his shoulders, the sickly smell of anxiety and her orange scented lotion overwhelming. “Scott, you need to breathe! Where’s your inhaler?”

Weakly, Scott lifted his backpack, waiting for her to step back before he shoved his hand into the open pocket, fingers wrapping around the plastic casing of his inhaler. His fingers had gone back to normal, though his heart still pounded uncomfortably in his throat.

He took a pull of the inhaler for posterity, making a show of holding his breath, releasing it after a ten-count, though all it did was make his throat taste of chemicals and metal.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mrs. Flores said, and it was nice to know she meant it, guilt mixing sickly sweet into the air. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” Scott croaked, clearing his throat in an attempt to swallow past the swirling scents around them. Mrs. Flores didn’t look like he believed him.

“Your grades have been slipping since the year started, and we’ve all noticed. You’re a good kid, Scott. You’re an incredibly hard worker, you’re a model student, you get along with your peers, you’re always a pleasure to have in class but…” She waved her hand, letting it drop heavily. “Is it problems at home? Is there someone bothering you at school? Is it your dad…?”

“N-no, my dad’s not around.” Scott frowned, breathing out slowly to let his heart rate settle. “I mean, like, it’s fine, he’s just not. We don’t talk. B-but it doesn’t have anything to do with him, I promise.”

“Is there something else?” She walked around her desk, digging through one of the drawers for a moment before returning to stand in front of Scott, holding out a bottle of water and a slightly crushed granola bar. “You have a job, right? Everything’s okay there?”

“Yeah, Doctor Deaton’s really good, he’s not…overworking me or anything like that!” Scott bit his lip, feeling himself shrink under Mrs. Flores’ raised eyebrow before taking the offered snacks.

“I didn’t imply he was,” she said gently, holding her hands up, palms out. Relax. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Everything’s fine,” Scott insisted, feeling the words fall flat in the empty room. The temptation was there, for a second: Mrs. Flores? Actually, I’m a werewolf and there’s hunters that are trying to kill me, but also the werewolf that bit me is murdering people and we don’t know why, and I don’t know what to do, and I’m scared, and I can’t focus on subjunctive conjugations even if you make them really interesting, and I’m sorry.

“Everything’s fine,” Scott echoed, letting his shoulders slump. “It’ll be fine.”

Mrs. Flores frowned, crouching enough to meet Scott’s lowered gaze. “Do you need tutoring, maybe? You know we have programs for that after school, right? Or, if you need to you can come in during lunch. My door’s always open, Scott.”

“Yeah. I know.” Scott swallowed the last of the lump in his throat, lifting his backpack onto his shoulder, half holding it against his side. “Can I go now?”

Mrs. Flores sighed, then nodded slowly, straightening to lean back against her desk. “Scott, before you go…” She cleared her throat, sending him a sad little smile he couldn’t quite figure out. “I know high school is…hard. Lots of things are changing, and you’re becoming more independent… But if something is wrong, you have people who can help you and support you. You’re growing, but you’re still a kid. It’s okay to ask for help. We’re all happy to help you, but you need to talk to us first.”

Scott nodded, swinging his bag fully onto his shoulder, hoping she didn’t notice the faint clink of chains as they knocked around. “Yeah… Thank you, Mrs. Flores, I know.”

He scrambled out the door before she could continue, leaving behind a cloud of guilt. Hopefully, some day he'd be able to be the student they believed he could be, but until the issue with the Alpha got resolved, Scott had more important things to worry about.

#teen wolf #scott mccall #scottmccallweek #god forgive me my typos #all i want more than ever is for an adult to look at scott and tell him its okay! he's a child! it's okay to BE a child!#i'll ramble more later i have work in the morning

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my-eyes-looking-in · 1 year

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I read something yesterday that told me to try filling a notebook every month, even if I was filling it with nonsense.

It doesn’t make a lot of sense, not with the way I use notebooks--as a sort of dumping grounds, extensions of the soupy mess constantly spilling from my brain. I do all my writing-writing, all my beloved fiction, in Word documents on my little Dell laptop.

And consider the logistical nightmare of trying to fill a notebook every month. Shitty half-used composition books left over from high school, torn-out pages where bio and APUSH notes used to be shortening them into slim volumes. Five-subject spiral-bounds, better-value-per-page from Target. The hand-sized books with fancily decorated covers my mother buys me for Hannukah. Not all notebooks are created equal.

This thought was born on the remaining pages of the first kind, the high school leftover. My diary takes the form of a water-warped paperback with an inspirational quote on the cover, damaged in the days when I used to use it to plan classes. The book holding the notes for my novel is a larger, soft blue, faux-leather thing with a gold-and-white cherry blossom branch on the cover and a long white ribbon bookmark.

In my drawers are notebooks I have repurposed, covers I have painted, ribbon scraps I have glued in. Fancier journals I have been given, gotten in online giveaways and preorder campaigns, bought in bookstores and drugstores and grocery stores. There is a story behind how I acquired every notebook I own.

I fill them all, over time. I pick up a floppy green spiral-bound I scribbled about a vacation in when I was eleven and I use the remaining pages to chronicle my experiences with depression. I find a notebook that previously held conjugations of Spanish verbs, glue a watercolor landscape over the cover, and fill the back of it with scene-by-scene outlines of short stories.

Place a notebook in front of me, and I will write in it. I love the potential of all those blank pages; I love watching my thoughts spill out to mar them in streaks of black and blue and pink and orange. I love how even when the thoughts inside are my own, the cover can be made to broadcast a hint of myself to the world.

#first post #writing #my writing

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miips · 2 years

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Hihi. I prefer them all. They are so versatile! I love the functionality and different shapes that they have. Wow, for your first project, you really knocked it out of the ballpark. Translations are hard! I am currently at the end of year 1 Spanish, and mannnnn, preterite and imperfect tenses are killing me. You got this!

Yeah! That's exactly what I like about them, they can be so versatile, they can be used in any room, with any shape, high or width. The ability to create an unique furniture for any kind of room is what make them so special. Alfter all, sims IS about costumization. So... I just had to do it 😃

Thank you, it's been a kind of learning too and I'm really liking it. I have so many ideas and plans...

I don't speak spanish, but yeah, I understand your felling. Translation can be a real nightmare sometimes. Yesterday I spent half a day searching for how I could name my shelves. "Fonding-down" or "Up and over" aren't words I usually use in my day-to-life. Sure, I took english classes for 7 years, and yet I've never heard those words before - and I'm sure there's a lot more I don't know. Verb conjugation for any latin language is a lot worse. Even latin languages speakers have dificult with them, as a writter I've seen that too much already.

PS: just to clarify, brazilians speak portuguese (I'm brazilian), we were Portugal's colony in the past. Portuguese and Spanish are very seemed with each other, but they're actually 2 diferent languages. I understand why many people confuse them 😉

I spoke too much, sorry 🙈

#ask #anon ask

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general-cyno · 4 years

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chinese tones are gonna be the death of me. why did i have to grow up in a part of colombia where we constantly butcher the spanish language by speaking so fast we're always skipping syllables and not giving a shit about intonation.

#today in jay trying to learn mandarin #tp #im grateful pronouns and grammar in chinese are kinda easier than in spanish structurally #spanish verb conjugation will rot your brain and give you nightmares #i say this as a native spanish speaker i know what im talking about

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r6shippingdelivery · 5 years

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Uh, so the vosotros thing is basically like "du" and "Sie" which is a pain in the everything when learning German? The German is a very accurate and detailed language so I like it, but I am just learning it for the lols :D I guess I will have to check the Spain because it seems funny. I like learning new languages.

Yep, it seems like vosotros/ustedes would be equivalent to du/sie, except I don’t know how it’s applied in German, but here you only use the formal one (ustedes) sparingly, like with old people you don’t know, clients, or important public figures. Some people do refer to their parents as “usted”, but that’s outdated as fuck and most people prefer to treat almost everyone with the more informal “vosotros” that’s why south americans using ustedes seems funny to us, they sound excessively formal for out standards

#I cannot in good conscience recommend you to learn Spanish for fun #cause the verb conjugations are nightmare and every single word is gendered and accentuation rules suck #unless you already know another latin based language it will probably seem stupidly complicated 😄#Anonymous

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gwendolynlerman · 4 years

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Easy aspects of languages

Spanish: everything is pronounced the way it is written

English: verb conjugation is simple; articles are not gendered

French: pronunciation is, although challenging, pretty straightforward

German: pronunciation is very logical and straightforward; the meaning of some compound words can be guessed based on that of other words or affixes

Russian: there are no articles; building tenses is quite easy (especially the past tense)

Catalan: straightforward pronunciation

Esperanto: verb conjugation is really simple; word formation is straightforward

Mandarin: there are no tenses and no plural; nouns don't have gender

Difficult aspects of languages

Spanish: there are many verb tenses and irregular verbs

English: pronunciation is a nightmare; irregular verbs are a pain

French: there are many verb tenses (although less than in Spanish)

German: ARTICLES; cases; the same verb having two completely opposite meanings

Russian: A BAZILLION CASE ENDINGS; verbs of motion

Catalan: pronoun contractions; a lot of verb tenses

Esperanto: affixes need to be memorized

Mandarin: tones; particles; having to associate not only sound and meaning, but also characters

#langblr #spanish #english #french #german #russian #catalan #esperanto #mandarin

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sitp-recs · 3 years

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i'm anon who asked for pt fanfic (I'm learning the language, I speak spanish) and in latam we tend to keep the english names, as in the houses and the characters (some locations and stuff like potions they do change)

But I was reading and came upon "lufa-lufa" and I was like.... that must by a typo bUT IT MEANS HUFFLEPUFF I'm laughing my ass off honestly its sounds so much cooler than hufflepuff.

Then I looked it up and found out that Hogwarts houses names change in Portuguese, french, italian, Czech and finnish (they all sound so cool if you want to check them up)

I'm kinda jealous we don't get to have a translation so i been thinking all morning how hogwarts houses names in spanish would be

Hi anon! Omg that’s fascinating, I’m totally checking the names in those other languages you mentioned. I love the ones in Portuguese - although I gotta say Ravenclaw sounds better than Corvinal imho. Did you come up with any versions in Spanish?! I’m so curious! And I think it’s incredible that you’re learning Portuguese, I know it’s similar to Spanish but that only makes it more difficult to learn it properly, besides the verb conjugations are an absolute nightmare 💀 kudos to you!

#asks #anon

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lang-queen · 3 years

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🌸2021 Language Resolutions and Goals🌸

Hi, everyone! Finally this year is almost over and we now have yet another change to improve ourselves (I’m a firm believer you can do so whenever, but a new year has that feeling even more embedded). I felt like this year I didn’t improve much on anything, so I hope I’m motivated enough to work harder next year. I want to learn more languages and dedicate myself more to it, so here are the languages I want to improve:

Japanese (of course). I want to be able to read better without using the dictionary as often and improve my hearing comprehension. To do this I’m going to have to work in my vocabulary and kanji, my weaknesses.

Portuguese. I can understand Portuguese text and sometimes grasp what natives say, but it’s hard for me to produce the language. I have to work on ortography since most words are similar to Spanish but with different spelling, and to learn properly verb conjugation. I expect that with being a Spanish speaker, and since Portuguese is like a sibling to it, the learning becomes easier.

Braille. Not a language, but a writing system. I’m going to learn the Spanish version. I was learning it, but stopped and forgot most of it, yet I’m still familiar to it so it’s going to be easier to start again. I use an app I already mentioned in a post and I’ll keep with the system I was using with an improvement: I’ll start to write sentences and words.

MSL (Mexican Sign Language). I know how to spell and some words, but not enough to communicate, so I’ll dedicate more time to learn vocabulary, specially verbs. In some moment throughout the year I’m going to research about the grammar, but right now I plan to stick to signed Spanish (Español signado), which is the way hearing people talk, but literally translated to sign.

German. I’ve wanted to learn German for so long and now I’m finally making it official. However, I have too much in my schedule, so I’m just going to focus on basic grammar and vocabulary.

French. I’ve zero knowledge of French nor anything related by it. Even though related to Spanish just like Portuguese, I’m aware it’s harder and definitely the relation won’t help me much in here. I know the nightmare that numbers are, so I plan to start with that and some basic vocabulary.

Now, I’ve planned a rough schedule:

Japanese. 5 times a week, Monday to Friday; at least 1 hour a day. I’ll mostly do shadowing, practice my Anki cards, reading or translating.

Portuguese. 3 times a week, Friday to Sunday; at least 30 minutes a day on Fridays, 1 hour on weekends. ctivities are thhe same as Japanese, but I’ll maybe add Duolingo.

Braille. At least 10 minutes daily on the app and then write a few sentences.

MSL. 2 times a week, on weekends. Mostly YT lessons and practice.

German. 2 times a month, maybe more. I’ll read some lessons and start an Anki deck to practice vocabulary.

French. Once a month. Start practising numbers on Anki and get to know a bit of how grammar works.

And this is it! What are your plans for next year?

#lang-queen #langblr #tongueblog #language blog #new year #2021 resolutions #languages #learning languages #langblog

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fourdaysofrain · 5 years

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Peter like,, falling behind on his schoolwork or feeling overwhelmed with both school and spidermanning and then Tony helping him get back on track?

Oh man, buckle your seatbelts, I’m about to project onto Peter Parker.

Read on AO3

Peter let his head drop into his hands as he stared down at the worksheet on the desk in front of him. He had been doing so well with staying on top of things, but he was halfway through webbing up a mugger at the end of his patrol when he remembered he had a Spanish assignment due tomorrow.

So here he is, watching his clock tick closer towards sunrise, trying to remember the irregular preterit verbs and ignoring the bruise on the side of his face that will hopefully be gone by morning.

It’s not as if he wanted to be doing homework four hours before his alarm would go off. After the blip, there was chaos in Queens. All of the universe, really, but he was having a hard enough time focusing on his own small borough. He had to help whoever he could. A few hours less of sleep certainly wouldn’t kill him. Not when he could be using those hours to save other people’s lives.

His weekly patrols turned to twice a week, to every other day, to every evening, to whenever he wasn’t doing homework or eating. He worked on assignments in between classes and during decathlon practice. He studied for decathlon before he ate dinner. It was a delicate system, sure, but as long as he didn’t make any mistakes he would be fine.

Of course, thanks to Sr. DiPaolo, his delicate system was crashing down around him like a pyramid of champagne flutes. He knows he should just go to bed and take the zero, but he can’t stop looking at the page. He has to do this assignment. If he doesn’t, his grades will fall and he’ll never get into MIT and he’ll have to be a high school dropout and will probably end up homeless on the street selling himself for food. All because of this god damn Spanish worksheet.

He holds back a choked sob. Great, and now he’s crying as well. The words in front of him float around his head as his eyes burn. He can’t remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep. Even when he gets in bed on time, he keeps himself up thinking of the battle at the Avenger’s compound. He saw Tony die. He knows, rationally, that Tony is currently living happily at the lakehouse, still recovering from the damage the gauntlet caused. But he saw the light leave his eyes. He saw his pale (too pale, always too pale) skin flecked with blood and dust fall slack. And that’s all he sees when he closes his eyes to sleep.

Lovely stuff to think about when he’s trying not to cry.

He scratches out a shaky tuviste before jolting at the buzz of his phone on the desk. The screen proudly flashed a picture taken a few months– well, 5 years and a few months– ago of him and Tony posing with a specialized blender he made for Dum-E’s birthday. It’s Tony’s contact photo. Peter debates letting it ring and avoiding the lecture about being up too late. He sighs and answers it. He just needs to get his mind off of his homework one way or another. Even if it means he’ll be sleeping even less.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” He hopes he sounds like he just got up, rather than like he’s holding back tears.

“Hey, kid. How are things?” Peter’s eyebrows scrunched at the tinny voice coming through the phone.

“You called me at 3am just to ask how things were?” His voice cracked when he raised it at the end of his question. Hopefully, it went unnoticed.

“Are you doing okay, Peter?” No such luck. Tony’s voice had dropped to a lower register. And he used his actual name. There was no escaping this now.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s nothing superhero related, so you don’t need to worry,” Peter said as he wiped his nose, the not-crying pretense already out the window.

“Pete,” he was really not used to hearing this level of care in Tony’s voice, “I’m Tony 2.0 now. I’ve got a kid. I’m more emotionally mature, according to Pepper at least. You can talk to me. I’m all about that sappy stuff now.” Just what he needed. A reminder that everything has changed.

“Why’d you call me, then?” Peter couldn’t help but feel like a petulant child. He heard a drawn-out breath come from the other side of the call.

“I had a nightmare where you didn’t come back.” Peter freezes in his place. He was expecting a deflecting joke, not an actual answer. “We still saved the rest of the universe, but you stayed in the soul stone. Now I can handle that on my own, but I saw you were in the suit just a couple minutes ago– May and I will be talking to you about that, by the way– and I decided to give you a call.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I care about you, kid. So what’s going on? Why are you crying in the middle of the night?”

“It’s stupid. I have an assignment due in Spanish tomorrow and I’m just starting it now. It’s not even that hard, I just can’t do it. I’m going to fail.” Peter adamantly held back the sob crawling up his throat.

“You’re not going to fail. How much is this assignment worth?” Tony’s voice was impossibly soft as he spoke.

“It’s uh– part of the homework section, which is 20% of the final grade.” He sniffed pathetically. “It’s so stupid, sorry.”

“It’s not stupid.” A pause. “Peter, is this really about the assignment? You know one missed assignment won’t change your grade. Last I checked you still have a 98 in Spanish.”

There’s a pause as Peter catches his breath. It’s really not about the assignment. The assignment is just the tip of an iceberg that’s been growing ever since he came back.

“It’s just all… so much.” Peter’s words came out quietly, as if afraid he would break completely if he spoke any louder.

“Kid, you’re 18. Or 23, depending on how the government decides to count the blip. You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’ve been patrolling every night for hours on end and still getting straight As. You need to care for yourself.”

“There are too many people out there who need Spider-Man. I can’t just let them get hurt,” Peter says as he tries to get his breathing under control. Tony waits patiently.

“Listen to me, Pete. Are you listening?” Tony waits to hear a confirmation from him before continuing. “You can’t save everyone. You’re saying that, while you’re on patrol, every person who got in trouble is in trouble because you didn’t save them. Right?”

Peter nods before remembering he’s on the phone. He mutters a quick yes.

“You’re wrong. New York’s a shitty place. People get hurt every day. You can’t blame yourself for that. If you look at it from my perspective– the right one– every person you help is safe and unharmed because of you. You’re not looking at the people you’ve saved, just the ones you didn’t. You’re setting yourself up to fail. No one can stop all crime in Queens. Not even Spider-Man.”

“I guess.” Peter doesn’t even feel upset anymore. He just feels numb. He wants to go to sleep.

“God, this must be how Rhodey felt. Back to the matter at hand: your homework.”

“I can’t do it, Mr. Stark, but I can’t miss an assignment.” Peter runs a hand through his hair and ignores the way his voice wavered.

“Alright. Executive decision time. I’m excusing you from school tomorrow. What day is tomorrow, Friday? No, not you–” Tony’s voice gets quieter as he moves away from the speaker to scold his AI.

“Yeah, tomorrow’s Friday.” Peter can feel a glimmer of amusement underneath whatever has a grip on his chest.

“Good, good. So you’re going to skip school and come to the lake house for a nice long weekend. I can work the details out with May before she goes to work. Text me when you wake up and I can send Happy over.”

“Mr. Stark, I can’t miss a day! I’ll just fall even more behind. I can’t– handle that right now.” His breath hitches as he speaks.

“Yes, you can. Bring your homework but don’t bother bringing the suit. I’ll work with you on your homework, but this is going to be a Spider-Man free weekend. We’ll just be conjugating verbs until the cows come home. You’re a smart kid, Pete. Believe me, one day off from high school won’t kill you. Overworking yourself might, though.”

Peter sighs. He knows when he’s in a fight he can’t win.

“Okay.”

“Looking forward to it. And, kid, I do care about you. Don’t be afraid to talk to me. Even if it’s not related to your sticky friend. I know it must be strange that I have a daughter now, but you’re still my kid. That’s never going to change no matter how many space-dictators try to take over the universe. You’re incredible. You just have to give yourself some slack. Now, get some sleep. I– I love you.”

Before Peter can respond, Tony ends the call. He’s left looking blankly at the phone in his hand. Well, that was new.

He’s not better yet. He has a while to go before he can feel relaxed. But, slowly, the weight on his shoulders gets a little lighter. And that night, he dreams of springtime.

Tag List:@ironfamjam @addi-is-amazing @mysterio-is-a-little-bitch

#hope you like it!#no editing we die on our first draft like men #art writes #irondad #irondad and spiderson #spider-man #spiderman #marvel #mcu #iron man

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memorylang · 4 years

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Language Learning, Mom’s Birthday | #43 | August 2020

Since Mom had held language-learning close-to-heart, I dedicate my August update to a language theme!

With August 9, 2020, my late mom turned 55. I’ve often felt since 2017 a bittersweet fondness for the summer months between Mother’s Day and her birthday. That year had been my first summer in China getting to know Mom’s family after her death.

For this August’s story, I’ve reflected a great deal on my experiences with language learning. Of which I’d written before, I’ve basically chosen five languages as the ones I want to be functional using (my native English included). So beyond the usual reflections from this COVID-19 summer in the States, I also take us back through my young life learning.

And, I’m pleased to announce that I've begun to work on a new writing project! More on that soon.

From Multilingual Mom to Me

I start us from spring 2020, around evacuation back to the U.S. from Peace Corps Mongolia.

By April 10-16, I’d been in my sixth week in Vegas again. Yet, less than a couple months before, I was in Mongolia packing to evacuate. As part of my coping while packing, I’d listened to hours of music. Much included Chinese Disney themes I’d found on Spotify.

Well, having returned to Vegas, you might recall that the sisters’ songs in “Frozen II” resonated deeply with me. Whether while waking or working the yard, I’d listen to “Frozen II”' tracks in Chinese, sometimes in English. Finding songs in other langauges fit my 2020 exploration resolution. I humorously suspected that my Spotify Wrapped 2020 will surely list the same tracks in different languages... if only Spotify had Mongolian versions. Well, a month later, by week 10 (May 8-14), I’d exchanged the songs’ English versions for Spanish!

That week also featured May 13, 2020—the third anniversary of Mom’s funeral. This year, something special happened.

I’d received a fateful book—A Primer of Ecclesiastical Latin. My college pastor had ordered this for me just days after I’d asked him what I should consider studying while discerning during quarantine a doctorate in religious studies. After my pastor noted my interest in world Christianity, especially its past and present in Asia, he highly recommended I study Church Latin.

My pastor’s suggestion pleased me in a curious way. It reminded me of my Duolingo dabbling back in Mongolia, how at that time I’d favored Latin over Greek. Still, Liturgical Latin, studied seriously, seemed like quite an undertaking. Nonetheless my pastor commended my talents and felt confident I could succeed along paths God may open for me. I felt grateful for the aid!

Embarking on my quest to learn Latin, I’ve found the language remarkable.

It’s felt at times the culmination of my years learning languages. In fact, Mom had actually wanted my siblings and me to learn languages since we were little—She’d taught us to read English then tried to have us learn Chinese. Most summers, she’d have us in the mornings copy down Chinese characters before she’d let us play games or do activities that weren’t “educational.”

While cleaning my family’s garage this COVID-19 this summer, I’d unearthed old notebooks in which my siblings and I would write Mom’s required phrases. I noticed how even back then I’d seem to try harder than most of my siblings, given how many characters I copied. Still, I hadn’t much inclination to know the language words beyond, then, clearing Mom’s barrier to letting me play games.

Still, even if the notebooks had implied some aptitude I’d had for languages, Mom’s requirements left me if anything more averse to language acquisition than eager.

Suffering Through Spanish

Many today may feel surprised to know that for years I’d called Spanish my second language.

Given my childhood disdain for studying languages beyond English, I’d found my task to study Spanish in high school assiduous. I formally began in the language fall 2011 as a freshman. Spanish was our Vegas school’s only foreign language option, and all honors students needed two years of language. Yet again, my language studies drew from a requirement—little more.

Many of my classmates and I rapidly found our classes exhausting, for our instructor had a thick French accent. Furthermore, verb conjugation, unfamiliar tenses and gendered vocabulary felt alien. I didn’t get why a language would be so complicated.

Yet, despite my struggles to understand our teacher, she’d commended me because I “made the effort.” Well, I sometimes felt like I’d make the effort to a fault. When peers cheated on exams, my darn integrity had me abstain.

By my second year, when I was succeeding in college-level AP world history, my fleetingly flawless GPA took from Spanish a beating. That hurt. By my senior year, at least Mom let me take Spanish online instead. I’d learned that I’d known more than I thought, but I still sucked.

Redemption Through Mandarin

By fall 2015, I’d had graduated high school and enrolled as an honors undergrad facing another foreign language requirement.

Licking my wounds from Spanish, I ruled out that language. I saw the University offered Chinese, though. Studying world history had interested me in Mom’s cultural background and native tongue. Considered she’d made my siblings stare at the language since childhood, I hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. So, I chose Mandarin Chinese.

And by my first days learning Chinese, I could already feel the benefits of having taken Spanish.

Chinese felt astoundingly straightforward. Spanish had taught me to recognize that English letters (better known as the Latin alphabet) sound differently in different languages. For example, I felt pleased to notice that the ‘a’ /ah/ letter in Spanish sounds similar to its Chinese pronunciation. Thus, Spanish’s “mamá” and Chinese’s “māmā” relate, despite appearing in separate languages.

Thanks to my Spanish experience, I picked up Chinese’s general pronunciation system far faster. Furthermore, I felt relieved to find that Chinese grammar lacked the conjugation and gender nightmares I’d faced in Spanish. I’d even loved how Chinese characters’ little images could often help me guess word meanings intuitively!

My interest and success with the Chinese language led me to study abroad in 2017, planned with my mother before she was killed. I returned to China a year later, in 2018 on an intensive program. Both times, I spoke my mother’s native tongue, meeting relatives and making friends. I even received awards for my skills.

Yet, despite my progress in Chinese, I’d often considered it only my third language. After all, much of my success in Chinese came having struggled through Spanish.

Finding Peace with Spanish

In my college senior year, January 2019, I’d attended a religious pilgrimage in Panamá—a Spanish-speaking nation.

By that time, I’d grown acquainted with language immersions. In fact, I readily used my Mandarin skills when I met World Youth Day pilgrims from Hong Kong, Malaysia and Taiwan. They often felt shocked to meet someone outside their communities who knew their language!

Of course, Panamá left me at times surrounded too by folks who only spoke Spanish, including my host family.

I listened carefully. A luminous spark, I’d felt. Buried memories of my broken Spanish resurfaced. Near my last day in Panamá, I felt awed to have had a conversation with a cab driver completely in Spanish.

My peace with Spanish became a renewed interest.

After our pilgrimage, I’d continued with my host family and new Latin American friends to speak and write almost exclusively in Spanish. Online, we benefited over WhatsApp with Google Translate, too. Panamá in 2019 had taken a language that was for me dead and breathed in it new life.

Peace Corps Language Level-ups

Later that year (last year), I began to learn what would be my fourth language and one entirely unfamiliar—Mongolian.

I should note that before reaching Mongolia June 1, 2019, I couldn’t even read its Cyrillic alphabet. I’d basically started at zero.

Peace Corps’ language briefings had at least taught me that Mongolian is an Altaic language, distinct from Indo-European language like English and from character-based languages like Mandarin. Over the course of summer in villages of Mongolia, Peace Corps put us through mornings of immersive language training followed by returns home to our host families.

Still, many Peace Corps Trainees felt unmotivated to learn Mongolian. After all, with statistically few Mongolian speakers worldwide, many felt that we wouldn’t have much utility for Mongolian outside Mongolia. Nevertheless, I felt motivated by desires to understand and feel understood. I powered through.

Initially, Mongolian baffled me.

Its Cyrillic alphabet (and its script one, too) includes consonant and vowel sounds unknown to English, Spanish and Chinese. Furthermore, Mongolian uses a case-based grammar of suffixes, a reversed subject-object-verb order and postpositions instead of prepositions. Mongolian even reintroduced me to my nemeses gendered vocabulary and tense-based verb endings!

I felt grateful for the sparse Chinese loanwords I wouldn’t have to relearn! Yet, my kryptonite was often pronunciation. Challenging consonants and tricky long vowels left me so inauthentic. Regardless, I was an ardent study who savored most every chance to receive Mongols’ clarifications and corrections.

Finding Latin in Asia

Curiously, Catholic Churches became great places for my language learning.

This was the case for me both with learning Chinese in China and Mongolian in Mongolia. Parishioners would often take me under their wings to support me. Curiously in Mongolia, an English-speaking French parishioner pointed out once that Mongolian grammar is quite like Latin. I didn’t know Latin, though.

I had encountered Latin, though. For, Asian vocabularies for Church topics often derived more directly from Latin than even English translations! These pleased me, since learning the vocabulary to speak about religion felt less foreign.

Then came the sleepless nights during Mongolia’s COVID-19 preemptive quarantining, January and February. I’d had taken up Duolingo and opted for Greek or Latin in hopes that they’d bore me to sleep. I’d also hoped they might supplement how I teach English and read Scripture. And while Greek felt hopelessly confounding, Latin vocabulary felt surprisingly... natural. Despite my lack of formal training, I did alright just guessing.

My Roads Led to Latin

From late May through mid-June 2020, I’d read the first four chapters of the Church Latin book. Meanwhile, mid-summer, I felt pleased to reach Duolingo’s Diamond League! Realizing that to become Champion would take far more effort than I cared to give, though I focused just on keeping my streak.

Still, my Latin especially progress slowed after Dad’s remarriage and my relocation to Reno, Nev. My mostly-free summer rapidly grew hectic. But even in those first four Latin weeks, I’d discovered true gems in pursuing the historic language.

At face value, Latin’s vocabulary reminded me of Spanish and English. Sometimes, Church words I’d learned first in Mandarin and Mongolian too related! Vocabulary felt profound.

Furthermore, Latin grammar felt reminiscent of not only Spanish conjugations but indeed Mongolian cases! I felt relieved that Panamá had freed me from my conjugation aversion. Likewise, my Mongolian skills felt far from obsolete!

To supplement my Latin studies, I try to translate between Chinese and Spanish, the way how in Mongolia I’d translate between Mongolian and Chinese. By juggling languages, I seek to codeswitch in more contexts with a more unified vocabulary.

Wherever I wind up academically and professionally, I hope to work between languages. Through daily discipline, textbooks, apps, videos, notes and conversations, I trust I’ll go far. Feel free to connect if you want to practice with me! The more corrections, the better.

From Ecclesiastical to Classical Latin

On August 23 (of my stateside week 25), I’d reunited in Vegas with a high school friend who’d studied classics in undergrad. From that meeting on, I’d not only ramped up my Latin studies but also transitioned from Ecclesiastical Latin to classical.

For, Church Latin is but an evolving Latin. To understand the orgins of many words—beyond simply their uses within the Roman Catholic Church—I would need the eternal Latin that changes no more. Well, my friend offered to tutor me, so I offered to try!

Classical Latin is harder, by the way.

And in the midst of my suffering throughout September, my friend had even offered to tutor me Greek. While mostly joking (but also not), I’ve offered that I might learn Greek from him if for no other reason than to thank him for teaching me Latin!

Nearly a month since beginning the tutorial system with him, we’ve since cleared over a fourth of a textbook meant sometimes to take a year’s worth of study. I hope by the year’s end to have finished the book.

At least a third of my waking hours at times seem to go into Latin. But, it’s nice to keep learning! That same week, my siblings had all resumed their undergraduate studies. At least I’m still learning something!

Embarking on a Book Memoir

Besides working on my other languages, I’ve even placed time in my English.

Lastly, I want to share about my writing quest! Although the project isn’t always across the top of my agenda, I keep at it. We return again to mid-summer.

Peace Corps friends and I have often checked in on each other since evacuation to the States. Some also write. During a webinar for evacuated Returned Peace Corps Volunteers, I’d met many looking to tell their stories.

Most weeks since July, I’d also have a few video calls. I’d take these no matter what I was up to. I’d still been doing that ‘groundskeeping’ in Reno, Nev. of which I’d written before. Whether I was getting the mail, trimming the hedges, pruning the flowers, watering the lawn, raking debris, sweeping the floor, taking out the trash, tugging the garbage bins, adjusting the windows or washing the dishes, I’d often had some task that Dad requested I’d tend to. Calls with friends broke the monotony.

After encouragement from mentors and friends, I’d decided to write a creative nonfiction book memoir for publication someday!

The first step, of course, is having a manuscript. So, since week 17 (June 26–July 2), I’d been typing away at the first chapters to what seems will be a story spanning my three years of studies and service overseas after Mother’s death, leading up to my acceptance and peace. I'm excited to tell stories about finding purpose and identity, despite grief and loss. I hope it helps readers to find their own peace amid confusion. All things are so fundamentally interconnected.

By three weeks in, I’d felt so grateful for the outpouring of support I’d received. Frankly, I wouldn’t be writing so much if people hadn’t been saying this has potential. Thankfully, readers offer marvelous insights. They treat the story as one deserving of quality. I love their attention to details.

Still, among the most grueling lessons I’ve learned learned has been that a book about grief has needed me to relive the hurt of my mother's death for repeated days. I trust nonetheless that once I’ve written and rewritten well, the remaining may rest behind me.

If you’re looking to read what’s coming, you’re in the right place. Merely starting on the book has helped me to improve my blog writing. You may have noticed in my recent summer 2019 throwback stories, for example, I’ve used more narrative than before. I hope you’ve enjoyed!

The language studies and the book continue, though I’ve taken more breaks lately with the book. From mid-August I’d embarked on advocacy projects with the National Peace Corps Association. I’ll share more on that soon. Having doubled-down on my Latin studies from mid-September, it can be a quite a black hole for my time! For everything there is a season (Ecc. 3:1).

Seeking to Stay Holy

A couple friends admired my dedication and called upon me to help them meet their spiritual goals. What a kind expereince! In helping them keep accountable, they’ve likewise helped me.

With a homebound Knight of Columbus, we’d continued July’s rosaries throughout August, as many as three times a day leading up to the Catholic Feast of the Assumption. Afterward, we’d reduced our count back to two times daily through early September. I’d never prayed so many rosaries before!

Through August, I’d also read a chapter of Proverbs daily with a friend. I’d reconnected with her during my outreach for the book. I enjoy our weekly Scripture chats, and she shows more Protestant perspectives on our faith!

I find God a great companion along the journey of life. Regardless of how you view religious and spiritual topics, I trust that you have companions, too. They’re so important!

On a positive note, I’d gotten to revisit my undergrad parish. I felt so amazed to hear that students I’d never met thought I was a cool person! I try not to think too highly of myself, but I feel touched when people notice me. I hope I inspire folks.

Coming up Next

Thanks for reading my meta-stories about languages and stories!

If you’ve been following my tales for a while now, you may recall I’d mentioned feeling surprised to learn that my mother had been studying Spanish around the same years I’d been studying it. I felt awed to realize that even when I’d tried to learn one of my earliest new languages, Mom was trying to learn what was for her one of a few. I’m glad to have perhaps inherited Mother’s interest in languages.

Up next, I have a very special piece dated for September 2020 [and ultimately released in October]. I’m focusing on perspectives—mine and others’. I’m particularly excited to share adventures with teams including those within the American Psychological Association and the Honors College at the University of Nevada, Reno. They’ve given me plenty of fun roles amid the pandemic!

I’m also writing about national and state parks! God, I love nature.

Stay healthy, friend.

COVID-19 and America Months 11 through 15 | April, May, June, July, August

Easter Epilogue in America | #35 | April 2020

Remembering Mom—Third Year After | #36 | May 2020

Fathers’ Day, Faith and Familiarity | #38 | June 2020

23rd Birthday~ Roses and Rosaries | #39 | July 2020

Language Learning, Mom’s Birthday | #43 | August 2020

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

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