<p>I have four Dutch language certificates. The last one even has something like a distinction.&nbsp; But does it mean I can speak Dutch?&nbsp; Not at all.&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>First of all, my certificates date from the eighties.&nbsp; When we first arrived in Brussels, I went to classes in my local commune.&nbsp; Why?&nbsp; Well, I knew we'd be here for a while, I already spoke French, and I felt that this being a bi-lingual country (well, tri-lingual, but German is only spoken in a teeny part far from Brussels) it would only be respectful to learn the other major official language.&nbsp; The classes were quite good fun: we listened to loads of news broadcasts and learnt lots of grammar.&nbsp; But there were about twenty students, and there wasn't much opportunity to speak.&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>And any time I tried outside the class, for example in shops, the other person would reply in fluent English.&nbsp; So my motivation dropped, and I stuck to listening to the radio, and buying the odd CD.&nbsp; Then we went away for years, so I forgot a lot.&nbsp; On our Nineties Belgian stint, we lived in a French-speaking commune, so I didn't bother.&nbsp; Off we went again, and the little Dutch i remembered dwindled to an almost dry trickle.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>But now, in Belgium Phase Three, I'm determined to make progress.&nbsp; I have my sat-nav speaking to me in Dutch .&nbsp; She's Jessie when she speaks English, and Marijke when she speaks Dutch.&nbsp; Unfortunately Marijke clearly comes from Amsterdam, and the accent is totally different, but at least it's something.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>And our alarm radio is set to Klara, the local Dutch station.&nbsp; We're great at understanding the weather forecast, which is generally grey and cloudy.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>But neither of these methods gets me speaking.&nbsp; Yesterday I decided something had to be done.&nbsp; I knew (having worked at many language schools) that i didn't want an overpriced language school where you sit and learn grammar, and my local commune wasn't offering anything.&nbsp; So I tried the Dutch and French universities, both of which are not too far from my home.&nbsp; No luck.&nbsp; No lessons for non-students.&nbsp; But they did point me in the direction of 'Het Huis van het Nederlands' - the Dutch House.&nbsp; I called, and was told to call in for a test.&nbsp; And meanwhile I found another place that booked me in for a test next Tuesday afternoon.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Off I went yesterday morning. Het huis van Het Nederlands is an impressive place in the heart of Brussels. It was filled with young, efficient admin staff and loads of desks with people scribbling away at their tests. &nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'I don't want a written test,' I said.&nbsp; 'Only conversation classes.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Well, you have to do the whole test to determine whether your level is high enough for conversation classes.&nbsp; You need to be a level 2.2 for that.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The first part was a conversation with the receptionist.&nbsp; After a few questions she gave me a slip of paper which said 'Spreekt nederlands' - speaks Dutch - I was suitably proud as I went through the system to the next stage. Here I simply answered questions as the guy filled in a form: name, address, date of birth, etc.&nbsp; I managed.&nbsp; Then he asked 'Why do want to learn Dutch?'&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Because I live in Belgium,' was all I could come up with.He ticked off 'social reasons'.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Then it got hard.&nbsp; 'What do you think about smoking in public places?'&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Slecht,' I answered, 'Awful.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'What do you do for the environment?'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'I ride my bike.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'How important is body language in your work?'&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Body language?&nbsp; I could speak to you for three hours on body language if I knew the words.&nbsp; Very important.'&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>The guy laughed,&nbsp; said I was level 2.3 (out of how many levels, I do not know), and sent me off to a desk to do the level 2.3 written test.&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'It's all about body language,' he said.&nbsp; It took a minute and ahalf for me to see that it was impossible.&nbsp; I simply couldn't understand a word (apart from 'body language').&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Too hard,' I said.&nbsp; They gave me a 2.1 test.&nbsp; I zapped through it.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Now the logic test,' they said.&nbsp; 'Logic?&nbsp; Why?'&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'To determine your study skills.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>So I sat there for another half-hour, filling in what's next in the series of stars and triangles, twisting shapes, and so on.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Study skills OK,' I was told.&nbsp; Overall level 2.1/2.2.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Please, please. please can I go to conversation classes?'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Yes.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Phew.&nbsp; I start next week.&nbsp; But I shall also go to the other place for a test - it was so much fun!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It's great fun trying to find your way when you're driving round Belgium: the names of the towns can be very confusing. In Dutch-speaking areas, the signposts are in Dutch, and in French-speaking areas, they're in French.&nbsp; Fine if you're travelling to Bruxelles/Brussel, or Louvain/Leuven, even, but if you're on your way from Flanders to Tournai, you need to know that you should be following signs to Doornik. And would you believe, Lille is signposted Rijsel from anywhere Dutch-speaking.&nbsp; But you soon get used to it.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Last week I went to Antwerp for the day with my friend Monique.&nbsp; She lives in Waterloo, just near Braine-l'Alleud where I used to live, about 20 k south of the city centre - very much a French-speaking area.&nbsp; We met at the Central Station in Brussels, took a local train that stopped at every unheard of hamlet on the way, and had a great day in Antwerp, shopping and practising our Dutch.&nbsp; On the speedy train on the way home, there was an announcement (only in Dutch, of course: we were in Flanders):'Dit trein stopt in Brussel Nord, Brussel Centraal, Brussel Zuid en Eigenbrakel.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Hey, Monique,' I said, 'you don't have to change trains in Brussels Central- this train goes on to Braine-l'Alleud!'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'How do you know?'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'The guy said - Eigenbrakel - that's Braine-l'Alleud.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Are you sure?'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Of course I'm sure, I lived there for six years.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>No wonder this country has problems, if people don't even know the name of their own neighbourhood in a language that is widely spoken only about three kilometres down the road from where they live.</p>

<p><strong>Published in 'The Oldie', March 2008</strong></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Carrasco, a privileged suburb twelve miles east of Montevideo, is sandwiched between the Rio de la Plata to the south and Avenida d'Italia to the north. Leafy avenues lead to the river, where the broad Rambla welcomes joggers and walkers. Elegantly tracksuited ladies drive their BMWs to the Lawn Tennis Club, or discuss Botox treatments in their Pilates class at the Cottage Hotel.</p> <p><br /> But there are signs that this opulence is not all there is to life in Montevideo.</p> <p><br /> Guards do twelve-hour shifts in booths outside mansions, young men walk twelve dogs at a time, and the hurgadores - the rag and bone men - clop along with their horses and carts, stopping to rummage in the green plastic bins at street corners. There are stories of bag-snatching and break-ins.</p> <p><br /> Just north of Avenida d'Italia is the suburb of Carrasco Norte. Here, dirt roads lead to tumbledown shacks, water from this year's record rain stagnates with rubbish in ditches, and children steal whatever they can to pay for their p<em>asta base</em>, the local equivalent of crack cocaine.</p> <p><br /> Not far from the Lawn Tennis Club, but firmly separated by Avenida d'Italia, in an area of Carrasco Norte called La Cruz, some run-down buildings cluster around a courtyard. This is La Pascua, an NGO which welcomes children for after-school support, and offers secondary education to those who have missed out.</p> <p><br /> In a multipurpose room, a teacher tells a group of youngsters about Artigas, Uruguay's 19th century liberator and national hero. A tango class is being held in a classroom. Outside in the courtyard, some children kick a football around while others play ping-pong at a table shaped like a V, with a piece of cardboard slotted into the crack in the middle as a net.</p> <p><br /> As I walk in, they call &lsquo;<em>Hola, Profe</em>!' and run up to me. Kisses all round.</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;It's Paola, not <em>Profe</em>, remember?'</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;Okay, Teacher.'</p> <p><br /> A few teenagers follow me into an empty classroom.</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;<em>Profe</em>, I have an English exam tomorrow, and I need to know the Past Continuous and Present Perfect and Passive...'</p> <p><br /> This is Estela, overweight, brown teeth, orange hair, who can't say &lsquo;My name's Estela' in English.</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;Okay, let's start with something practical...'</p> <p><br /> Miriam pushes a stroller in. She's sixteen, beautiful, with a sad smile. She sits down, pulls up her jumper, and hoists three-month-old Manuela to her breast. Daniel, a punk-haired adolescent with so many piercings you can hardly see his face, picks Manuela's dummy off the floor and tosses it into the stroller.</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;<em>Profe</em>,' Miriam says, &lsquo;I have an oral exam tomorrow and I haven't studied. My boyfriend's mother died last week. AIDS. She got it on the street.'</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;You're okay, Miriam?' I ask.</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;Yes, I'm fine, and my boyfriend too. We had the test. But <em>Profe</em>, I have to invent a phone conversation for my exam.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>About buying something. Business English. I have to pass. I owe it to Manuela.'</p> <p><br /> The Spanish is clipped and slangy, but I get the gist.</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;Right, everyone, let's help Miriam. Miriam, imagine what you might need to buy. In bulk.'</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;Pa&ntilde;ales. Nappies.'</p> <p><br /> &lsquo;Fine. Estela, you're the receptionist. How about we start like this: "Happy Nappies, Estela speaking, can I help you?"'</p> <p><br /> We all work for an hour. Estela makes no progress with her complicated tenses, but she is an excellent Happy Nappies receptionist.</p> <p><br /> For that hour at least, no-one is smoking, drinking, or taking <em>pasta base.</em></p> <p><br /> And miraculously, Miriam passes her exam.</p> <p><br /> It's the little things that give you joy. Not many expats get to see this half of Uruguay. Here in Carrasco Norte, I feel privileged.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>&nbsp;</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p> <p><strong>March, 2005</strong></p> <p><br />I can speak Spanish!</p> <p><br />I think I can honestly add "Spanish: fluent" to my C.V.</p> <p><br />Six months ago I spoke NO Spanish.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Well, perhaps that's a bit of a lie. "<em>Hasta la vista</em>." "<em>Vamos a la playa</em>." " <em>Donde est&aacute;n los servicios, por favor</em>? (Always useful to know where the toilets are.) " <em>Gracias</em>." "<em>De nada</em>."</p> <p><br />Six months ago, in September, I knew I'd be moving to Uruguay at the end of October. I needed to learn Spanish fast. To me it seemed very important to be able to communicate confidently, immediately. No way was I going to settle for four years into an expatriate life in which no Spanish was spoken.</p> <p><br />After about ten years of a close association with Call International, a langiuage school in Brussels, the time had come to put their method seriously to the test. True, I had learnt some Portuguese and Finnish during teacher training courses, but I had never REALLY checked if it worked for ME. I had never NEEDED to speak Portuguese or Finnish.</p> <p><br />I decided to take the plunge: 20 hours with Veronica. I learnt a huge amount of vocabulary: food, clothes, the family....you know the beginners' routine. I learnt a stack of expressions: "<em>ir de tapas</em>" "<em>el gusto es m&iacute;o</em>" "<em>colgar el tel&eacute;fono</em>" . I learnt the difference between "<em>ser</em>" and "<em>estar</em>", between "<em>por</em>" and "<em>para</em>". I learnt a lot about Spanish art, about Madrid, about culinary specialities. We chatted. We played. We threw the ball. We debated.</p> <p><br />Then off I went to an intensive course in Salamanca: 2 weeks of serious language classes - 5 hours a day. I learnt very little in those classes. I was tested when I arrived and was put in "<em>Intermedio</em>" (not bad for someone with a total of 20 hours' learning behind them!). Those particular weeks, in <em>Intermedio</em>, they were doing the Conditional. And ONLY the Conditional. Lots of conditional rules and regulations copied from the board. Pages and pages. No practice. No use.</p> <p><br />But I learnt a lot outside the classes. With my <em>se&ntilde;ora </em>in my <em>piso</em>. With my classmates and flatmates. "<em>Que lo pases bien</em>." "<em>Que aproveche</em>". "<em>Qu&eacute; pasa?</em>" "<em>Que rica la comida!</em>" And what I had learnt with Veronica was extremely useful - food, clothes, the family....I could almost converse already! At the end of my course I gave a presentation to my class on textiles in Tanzania, and did a book report on a Garcia Marquez novel. No conditionals were used, but I got a great mark!</p> <p><br />I went back to Belgium for a few days before leaving for Uruguay. I knew that the Spanish in Uruguay would be a bit different from what I had learnt - I guessed, fairly accurately, that the differences would be rather greater than those between Belgian French and French from France, or between British and U.S. English. I was keen to know about these before I went, so I took three hours with Graciela, who is from Argentina. Fantastic! I learnt all about the "<em>vos</em>" pronoun which is only used in Uruguay and Argentina, I learnt how the past tenses differ, I learnt about the pronunciation of the "<em>ll</em>", which here is like a "<em>sh</em>", and I learnt lots of new vocabulary - clothes and food have very different names in this part of the world!</p> <p><br />When I arrived in Uruguay, it was amazing how comfortable I felt. It took literally only a few minutes to "tune in". I was understanding huge chunks already. Any time anyone offered to speak English to me, I simply insisted that they speak Spanish.</p> <p><br />I spent a couple of weeks in a hotel, before my house was ready. I went to the gym. I went to the pool. I went shopping. I bought "<em>Galer&iacute;a</em>" the local gossip magazine. I went to the Internet caf&eacute;. I went for a massage. I hired a bicycle and rode down the Rambla. I went to yoga classes. (There my body parts vocabulary was really assimilated, along with verbs of movement!). Everywhere I simply opened my mouth and spoke the words I knew, and bluffed the words I didn't know. I learnt to paraphrase.</p> <p><br />When I moved into my house, things moved even faster. I had a stream of electricians, plumbers, carpenters, internet and satellite TV technicians, coming to the house each day. I chatted to all of them, and my technical vocabulary expanded fast. I went to fitness classes. I went to the local market. I started singing lessons. I joined a photography course. I chatted to taxi and bus drivers. I listened. I learnt to drink <em>mate</em>, the local brew.</p> <p><br />And I learnt that the few words I had known before I started seriously learning were not really of much use. I learnt this by listening.</p> <p><br />Here we say "<em>Nos vemos</em>" instead of "<em>Hasta la vista</em>". We say "<em>Damos un paseo por la Rambla</em>" rather than "<em>Vamos a la playa</em>". We say "<em>Donde est&aacute;n los ba&ntilde;os</em>?" when we're looking for the toilet. And the answer to "<em>Gracias</em>" seems to be "<em>No, por favor</em>", or "<em>Merece</em>", rather than "<em>De nada</em>".</p> <p><br />My advice to language learners:</p> <p><br /><strong>Listen:</strong> Target your listening. Say "For ten minutes I'm going to listen out for new verbs" or "Let me see how many times this person says "vos".</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><strong>Dare:</strong> Dare to use the new words you pick up. Try them out. Yesterday I picked up that "respaldar" means "to support". I've been finding many reasons to support people and be supported for the last 24 hours just to "fix" the new word. If you get it wrong, it doesn't matter. Mistakes are good. You learn with them. Without them, you are dumb, blocked.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><strong>Do </strong>the things you like to do in the target language: Put your whole body and mind into it. Whether it be yoga, singing, fitness, photography, carpentry, find like-minded people. Involve all your senses when you learn. Look, listen, smell, taste, feel in your new language.</p> <p><br /><strong>Suerte!</strong></p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p><br />P.S. Nobody taught me how to write in Spanish, so pardon the mistakes!</p> <p>&nbsp;</p>