Language has a profound beauty and then, sometimes we just don't need words

The intricacies of language absolutely fascinate me. This same enchantment is surely one of the driving forces in the ways that I have tried to describe my life in Resistencia through this blog. And yet, because I write this blog in English, there are limitations to the ways that I can show what is happening on a daily basis in my life that is (mostly) "conducted" in Spanish. One of the best examples I can give involves the verb costarse; this word literally means (in its English translation) "to cost." However, as Argentines most commonly use this verb, costarse  refers to how difficult a person finds it to do something. For example, if a friend here asks me, "¿Te cuesta mucho hablar el castellano?", they are asking, if we translate literally,  "Does speaking Spanish cost you much?" Of course, this translation makes little sense to a native English speaker and a more accurate representation of what is being asked might be, "Do you find it extremely difficult to speak Spanish?," or "Do you find it stressful to speak Spanish?" In English, we can ask, "Is that difficult for you?" but I love that for certain words, like costar, there is no simple English equivalent. Here are a few more simple examples of some phrases that can easily be "lost in translation" from Spanish to English...

• When playing a board game, your turn "touches" you
• In asking someone's name, you ask "which" is their name, not "what" is their name
• When talking about the weather, it "makes" rain, or heat, or cold, not it "is" hot, rainy or cold
• Likewise, when referring to your age, you "have" a certain number of years, not "you are x years old"

Of course I could go on and on with this but I think you've probably got the idea. Obviously I think about this on a daily basis as I navigate my way between English and Spanish in my work at San Fernando and in the rest of my life in Resistencia. Most recently, however, I have dealt with this concept in two distinct, memorable conversations. The first of these was at work Friday morning at San Fernando. As part of the conversation hour that I direct with my fourth year students, we watched the following TED video that I stumbled across a little over a month ago (you should really watch this video!). Basically, Patricia Ryan outlines in this TED talk that our world should be careful about the ways it urges, or even insists, that scholars, scientists, writers, and people generally should communicate universally in English. Indeed, English has a profound international presence in education, politics, economics, news, etc. and has allowed people from all different kinds of cultures to come together and share their thoughts, feelings and discoveries. Unfortunately, as Ryan outlines so strongly, many other languages around the world are dying at an unprecedented rate and with them disappear, too, certain communicative strategies, ways of understanding the world, even medicinal practices among other important qualities.

At this point you're probably thinking, "But Teresa, you're an English teacher right now! What are you doing? Trying to eliminate your own job?!" Let me reassure you that I am no less than ecstatic to be employed right now and elated likewise to have the honor of teaching English in Resistencia. I think I love this video's cautions about English teaching so much because it reminds me in unavoidable ways that I have been entrusted with an extraordinarily delicate experience: an organic mix of cultural exchange and teaching both heavily focused on the sharing of language. Indeed, my students recognized Friday in our discussion about the video that, sometimes, there is just not a good way to express in English what they have grown up learning in Spanish, and vice versa in their attempts to understand or express in Spanish some of the concepts they have learned in their English classes.

My second most recent real life incident with this linguistic cultural reality came Friday afternoon in my time volunteering at the local junior high school. One young lady asked me to check some of her workbook exercises and I found myself amidst this phase of being "lost in translation." I tried to explain to her that while Spanish uses "which," English uses "what" to ask someone what their name is. Originally confronted with a rather confused face, I continued with a few other examples when suddenly this young woman's face lit up. She said to me, "Ooohh, so they're different?!" I imagine that I too was beaming from ear to ear in this moment of linguistic realization. Because the truth is, sometimes there is no easy way, or maybe even no way at all, to express some thought, some discovery, some object in a language other than where we encounter it in its native context. That, my friends, is the profound beauty of language.

Coming full circle to this post's title, I have a recent experience also to share about a dance performance I have recently attended. However, I think I have rambled on long enough today and will just leave you on the edge of your seats for further life news.