Turkish is my mother tongue. The language of my grandmother, poetry and dreams. The amorphous shapes appearing in the dregs left at the bottom of coffee cups, waiting to be read. The sound of wind chimes. It is the smell of earth after a sudden storm, when you inadvertently search yourself, check your flesh, not sure whether you have been touched and renewed by the rain or hurt by the thunder and hit by the lightning. It is the colour of blooming flowers. The same colour as bruises.
As a Dutch woman who has lived for most of her life in Greece, I can totally identify with what you wrote. Yes, it is easier to swear in Greek, it is also easier to express love in Greek (doing so in Dutch makes me feel awkward and self conscious). But when I have to count, I revert to Dutch!
Yes, why can’t I count fast in my second language? When I rehearse music: "[in Swedish] Let’s start from bar [pause, while I count in English, then back to Swedish] … bar 57"
Spanish is my mother tongue. The language I learned at home from Mexican parents. From them, I also learned love and respect, and since no family is perfect, from my father, I learned what incessant, angry swearing is.
English is my second language. The language I learned in school. It is also the language I have used throughout my professional life.
Since I was young, I spoke Spanish at home and English outside of home.
If I want to feel like I expressed something from the depths of me, I speak in Spanish. It is almost a visceral experience because when I talk in Spanish, I am not only using a language, but I am also expressing with my emotions, my body, my culture, my conditioning, my family, my being. In contrast, I can say the same thing in English but not express it in the same way. For me, English is more cerebral and analytical. I can be direct and concise in English. English seems to filter through my brain; however, Spanish feels like it comes from within.
I can tolerate swearing in English, but I cannot tolerate swearing in Spanish (thank you, Dad).
With its beauty and traumas, Spanish is home. English is a foreign land that I have gradually made into a home. Spanish comes with its culture and family history. And like any foreign land, English comes with its own customs and traditions that I adapted to.
Both of these languages have evolved within me as I have grown and changed over time and through experiences.
Thank you for writing this! I lived in Italy and had so many fascinating experiences related to language that I put into a 5min comedy bit years ago. My mother was Lebanese-American and due to the era her parents only encouraged her and her brother to only learn English to assimilate into the American culture. I have always wanted to learn Arabic, but haven’t done it yet. Maybe when I’m 70 I will finally find the time to learn. Your writing is beautiful.
Interesting notion Jake: English, that is, being American English. Ever know a guy by the name of Duane Pipe? Phonetically speaking, like his crossed the Atlantic counterpart Tim Tap, he ran into some unexpected wry-to-hard encounters at the International Bank that had drafted him.
P.S. Duane's real, like his pain; Tim's case is conjured.
Love this. There’s no humour like Punjabi humour. Earthy. A bit dirty. Urdu humour from Lucknow is a bit more sophisticated, witty and therefore more scathing. And when I am bereft, there is English to express the sadness.
from my perspective, when it comes to sadness, Portuguese takes the biscuit ~ saudade (a melancholic yearning) accentuated by fado (music). There are even song lyrics celebrating the 'joys of sadness'.
Elif's post made me think of 'saudade', too! And we are awash with all those memes of Japanese and Nordic words, especially, which express feelings, states of being etc that English doesn't have. It's such a fascinating subject.
As Ian Drury, of The Blockheads might, just conceivably, have riposted "If Punjabi is your rhythm stick, hit with it, hit it me!" Likewise Urdu, so sophisticated, "If Urdu is rhythm stick, hit with it, hit it me!" And, let's go with the torpedo, and suggest that "If you're a Saddo, inclined to vote Farageo, just belt everyone and all with your faux rhythm stick... coming as it does with guaranteed dissatisfaction... though Nige tries, tries, tries he'never get past the lies and deliver!
Written from France, though most often in England, thanks to the ties of Nige's Bregshit!"
Language is the most splendid deception. It is a veil through which we get a glimpse of the infinite, a mirror that reflects our most inner thoughts. it is both a sanctuary and a battleground, a place where love and war, joy and sorrow, dream and reality intertwine.
I’m back living my daily life in my native English after many years as an immigrant and commuter in French, and sometimes German. Urdu, Italian, and Spanish are languages I learned and lost that bubble under the edges of my consciousness. French is still my favorite for swearing. German is filled with a wonderful grasp of absurdity and also expressions of power and might sometimes and tenderness and affection other times that I feel sad that those who only see the stereotypes of the culture and the language will never know. Perhaps what is surprising is the language choices for emotions that seem to go against prevailing stereotypes of those languages.
"Merde!" wins out, by a short head, as my instant response Caroline. One, knee-jerk step ahead of "Gott!", thanks to an all-too-typically-linguistically-myopic-English edumacation... I guess.
I used to get very strange looks whenever I would claim to find German a “sexy” language. French, or Italian— but German? I stand by my opinion, and your comment touches on why I think so. Thank you!
Thanks, I do experience this too. If you read Italian there is an interesting book from the late 90’s titled “La Babele dell’inconscio” by Amati Mehler et al that addresses, among others, the issue of using different languages for different emotions and how evident it becomes in psychoanalysis. I experienced it myself throughout my life, as was born in a family of immigrants and becoming an immigrant myself in my adult life
As an Argentine with strong links to Italy living in the UK, I can relate to this so much! Yes, we’re different people, we have different voices and even our names sound different in each language.
I’m passionate about multilingual identity and wrote about it some time ago in my Substack (which happens to be in Spanish, my mother tongue) in a text called “Lingua Franca”. Sharing the title in case a curious Spanish speaking soul wants to peep ☺️
I am in awe of all the multi-linguals in the world.
As an Australian, born in the early 1950’s, when there was still a hint of Terra Nullius on the air, I speak only English. On a few occasions, when travelling, I have picked up a few words and phrases in French, Italian, German, even Icelandic, and felt that if surrounded by speakers of that language for long enough I could learn it. Though I’ve heard the best way to learn a language is on the pillow of your lover.
For now I am content to express myself through making art.
Still, I am intrigued and somehow satisfied that there are many who speak multiple languages.
As someone who adores learning languages and speaks a little of many, I would say I associate different emotions and contexts with each one. Although I feel slightly different when speaking each one, my persona and values remain the same. Thank you for seeing the beauty in languages 💞
Beautiful analysis of language. As an Irish person, the limited experiences of the native Irish language through the schooling system felt at times deliberately designed to siphon away the soul and humanism of the language. Most children leave school hating our own native language because it is taught so badly but I hope this changes with time. I wonder often what we have lost by being so divorced from our native language.
As a writer and speaker of, i love English while also realizing it is about 60% from Latin/Roman and thus very much a language of empire, and from some Germanic influences a language of commerce and battle. From a Lakota friend i learned that the Lakota language does not have swear/curse words, plus no words for e.g. "domination" "I/me" (except a couple-few in relation to other beings), "nature" (we are 'nature' too, so it's some thing 'out there'), "exclusion"... and traditionally a verb language, no nouns, b/c everything is alive and in motion. So that shows me how much language can shape consciousness and behavior.
I was fascinated that in the local First Nations language where I grew up, there were different words for COLOURS when the colour referred to a living thing or a ‘made’ thing. ‘A red car’ and ‘a red flower’ would use completely different words for the colour red! I found this an enthralling way of perception, and regretted not learning more. Only First Nations students were allowed to learn their language in highschool. (My dad was the principal and facilitated this program in the 90’s, which is still running in that school)
Interesting, and reminds of hearing Tom Porter, a Mohawk elder, say that in their language there is no word for "green", so they would say like, 'That dress is the color of the grass in springtime', hence a light green. Showed me the natural poetry built in to the language.
I live in Japan, but spend most of my life in English. The few times I am able to venture out into Japanese, I find I am a different person, maybe because of my sudden lack of vocabulary, an inventiveness from necessity pops out. On good days.
This struck a chord. I wrote a novel in French, not my native Dutch, and marveled at how embracing a new language demands not just fluency, but a philosophical exploration of expression. It's a journey of economizing words, crafting new meanings, uncovering the poetry in linguistic diversity...
Our mother tongues have much deeper roots in our conscious and unconscious minds, which means that the level of censorship and selectiveness is much higher than in a language acquired later. It's quite understandable, then, why it's so much easier to swear in a foreign language, or even to write creatively.
I don't parse emotions or topics and couple them with each language (I also live at the intersection of three, mainly); but I do feel slightly different speaking each.
Yes we are different people in different languages. I just had this conversation with my coworker last week. She sounds totally different in three languages and it strikes me too... I Can easily swear in english but in my mother language - not at all, I feel like doing terrible deeds by swearing in it. And I feel that for me I need to speak different languages due to unreasonable feeling that every language Has its own meaning in this world. Now in my head the story is beginning about purposes of different languages and the story about Babylon tower. 😆🤗💯❤️Wueeej, sending hugs and kisses Elif. 😘
As a Dutch woman who has lived for most of her life in Greece, I can totally identify with what you wrote. Yes, it is easier to swear in Greek, it is also easier to express love in Greek (doing so in Dutch makes me feel awkward and self conscious). But when I have to count, I revert to Dutch!
Me too!! With me it is in English and Dutch - but very similar feelins toward my native language
I noticed the same, that counting is the easiest in my mother tongue. Dutch and Greek, that's a beautiful combinations of languages to speak!
Yes, why can’t I count fast in my second language? When I rehearse music: "[in Swedish] Let’s start from bar [pause, while I count in English, then back to Swedish] … bar 57"
Spanish is my mother tongue. The language I learned at home from Mexican parents. From them, I also learned love and respect, and since no family is perfect, from my father, I learned what incessant, angry swearing is.
English is my second language. The language I learned in school. It is also the language I have used throughout my professional life.
Since I was young, I spoke Spanish at home and English outside of home.
If I want to feel like I expressed something from the depths of me, I speak in Spanish. It is almost a visceral experience because when I talk in Spanish, I am not only using a language, but I am also expressing with my emotions, my body, my culture, my conditioning, my family, my being. In contrast, I can say the same thing in English but not express it in the same way. For me, English is more cerebral and analytical. I can be direct and concise in English. English seems to filter through my brain; however, Spanish feels like it comes from within.
I can tolerate swearing in English, but I cannot tolerate swearing in Spanish (thank you, Dad).
With its beauty and traumas, Spanish is home. English is a foreign land that I have gradually made into a home. Spanish comes with its culture and family history. And like any foreign land, English comes with its own customs and traditions that I adapted to.
Both of these languages have evolved within me as I have grown and changed over time and through experiences.
Very well put.
Thank you 😊
Thank you for writing this! I lived in Italy and had so many fascinating experiences related to language that I put into a 5min comedy bit years ago. My mother was Lebanese-American and due to the era her parents only encouraged her and her brother to only learn English to assimilate into the American culture. I have always wanted to learn Arabic, but haven’t done it yet. Maybe when I’m 70 I will finally find the time to learn. Your writing is beautiful.
Interesting notion Jake: English, that is, being American English. Ever know a guy by the name of Duane Pipe? Phonetically speaking, like his crossed the Atlantic counterpart Tim Tap, he ran into some unexpected wry-to-hard encounters at the International Bank that had drafted him.
P.S. Duane's real, like his pain; Tim's case is conjured.
Love this. There’s no humour like Punjabi humour. Earthy. A bit dirty. Urdu humour from Lucknow is a bit more sophisticated, witty and therefore more scathing. And when I am bereft, there is English to express the sadness.
from my perspective, when it comes to sadness, Portuguese takes the biscuit ~ saudade (a melancholic yearning) accentuated by fado (music). There are even song lyrics celebrating the 'joys of sadness'.
How wonderful! We miss a lot, don’t we, when we don’t know other languages.
I know! Your mentioning of Punjabi and Urdu humour makes me want to learn Urdu and Punjabi 😅
Elif's post made me think of 'saudade', too! And we are awash with all those memes of Japanese and Nordic words, especially, which express feelings, states of being etc that English doesn't have. It's such a fascinating subject.
Fascinating Shazaf
As Ian Drury, of The Blockheads might, just conceivably, have riposted "If Punjabi is your rhythm stick, hit with it, hit it me!" Likewise Urdu, so sophisticated, "If Urdu is rhythm stick, hit with it, hit it me!" And, let's go with the torpedo, and suggest that "If you're a Saddo, inclined to vote Farageo, just belt everyone and all with your faux rhythm stick... coming as it does with guaranteed dissatisfaction... though Nige tries, tries, tries he'never get past the lies and deliver!
Written from France, though most often in England, thanks to the ties of Nige's Bregshit!"
Language is the most splendid deception. It is a veil through which we get a glimpse of the infinite, a mirror that reflects our most inner thoughts. it is both a sanctuary and a battleground, a place where love and war, joy and sorrow, dream and reality intertwine.
I’m back living my daily life in my native English after many years as an immigrant and commuter in French, and sometimes German. Urdu, Italian, and Spanish are languages I learned and lost that bubble under the edges of my consciousness. French is still my favorite for swearing. German is filled with a wonderful grasp of absurdity and also expressions of power and might sometimes and tenderness and affection other times that I feel sad that those who only see the stereotypes of the culture and the language will never know. Perhaps what is surprising is the language choices for emotions that seem to go against prevailing stereotypes of those languages.
"Merde!" wins out, by a short head, as my instant response Caroline. One, knee-jerk step ahead of "Gott!", thanks to an all-too-typically-linguistically-myopic-English edumacation... I guess.
Merde isn’t terribly sexy unless you’re James Joyce
Yes but merde isn’t sexy!
I used to get very strange looks whenever I would claim to find German a “sexy” language. French, or Italian— but German? I stand by my opinion, and your comment touches on why I think so. Thank you!
Thanks, I do experience this too. If you read Italian there is an interesting book from the late 90’s titled “La Babele dell’inconscio” by Amati Mehler et al that addresses, among others, the issue of using different languages for different emotions and how evident it becomes in psychoanalysis. I experienced it myself throughout my life, as was born in a family of immigrants and becoming an immigrant myself in my adult life
As an Argentine with strong links to Italy living in the UK, I can relate to this so much! Yes, we’re different people, we have different voices and even our names sound different in each language.
I’m passionate about multilingual identity and wrote about it some time ago in my Substack (which happens to be in Spanish, my mother tongue) in a text called “Lingua Franca”. Sharing the title in case a curious Spanish speaking soul wants to peep ☺️
I’m currently learning Spanish and I was looking for an account to follow to practice my reading. Gracias ☺️
Aww hope it helps your learning while also entertaining you! Bienvenida :)
I am in awe of all the multi-linguals in the world.
As an Australian, born in the early 1950’s, when there was still a hint of Terra Nullius on the air, I speak only English. On a few occasions, when travelling, I have picked up a few words and phrases in French, Italian, German, even Icelandic, and felt that if surrounded by speakers of that language for long enough I could learn it. Though I’ve heard the best way to learn a language is on the pillow of your lover.
For now I am content to express myself through making art.
Still, I am intrigued and somehow satisfied that there are many who speak multiple languages.
Thanks Elif for these insightful pieces.
As someone who adores learning languages and speaks a little of many, I would say I associate different emotions and contexts with each one. Although I feel slightly different when speaking each one, my persona and values remain the same. Thank you for seeing the beauty in languages 💞
Beautiful analysis of language. As an Irish person, the limited experiences of the native Irish language through the schooling system felt at times deliberately designed to siphon away the soul and humanism of the language. Most children leave school hating our own native language because it is taught so badly but I hope this changes with time. I wonder often what we have lost by being so divorced from our native language.
As a writer and speaker of, i love English while also realizing it is about 60% from Latin/Roman and thus very much a language of empire, and from some Germanic influences a language of commerce and battle. From a Lakota friend i learned that the Lakota language does not have swear/curse words, plus no words for e.g. "domination" "I/me" (except a couple-few in relation to other beings), "nature" (we are 'nature' too, so it's some thing 'out there'), "exclusion"... and traditionally a verb language, no nouns, b/c everything is alive and in motion. So that shows me how much language can shape consciousness and behavior.
I was fascinated that in the local First Nations language where I grew up, there were different words for COLOURS when the colour referred to a living thing or a ‘made’ thing. ‘A red car’ and ‘a red flower’ would use completely different words for the colour red! I found this an enthralling way of perception, and regretted not learning more. Only First Nations students were allowed to learn their language in highschool. (My dad was the principal and facilitated this program in the 90’s, which is still running in that school)
Interesting, and reminds of hearing Tom Porter, a Mohawk elder, say that in their language there is no word for "green", so they would say like, 'That dress is the color of the grass in springtime', hence a light green. Showed me the natural poetry built in to the language.
I live in Japan, but spend most of my life in English. The few times I am able to venture out into Japanese, I find I am a different person, maybe because of my sudden lack of vocabulary, an inventiveness from necessity pops out. On good days.
Thanks for writing this post.
This struck a chord. I wrote a novel in French, not my native Dutch, and marveled at how embracing a new language demands not just fluency, but a philosophical exploration of expression. It's a journey of economizing words, crafting new meanings, uncovering the poetry in linguistic diversity...
Our mother tongues have much deeper roots in our conscious and unconscious minds, which means that the level of censorship and selectiveness is much higher than in a language acquired later. It's quite understandable, then, why it's so much easier to swear in a foreign language, or even to write creatively.
I don't parse emotions or topics and couple them with each language (I also live at the intersection of three, mainly); but I do feel slightly different speaking each.
Yes we are different people in different languages. I just had this conversation with my coworker last week. She sounds totally different in three languages and it strikes me too... I Can easily swear in english but in my mother language - not at all, I feel like doing terrible deeds by swearing in it. And I feel that for me I need to speak different languages due to unreasonable feeling that every language Has its own meaning in this world. Now in my head the story is beginning about purposes of different languages and the story about Babylon tower. 😆🤗💯❤️Wueeej, sending hugs and kisses Elif. 😘