Moving to a different country when you are Dutch inadvertently means you have to learn a new language. In our case, with two moves to two linguistically different countries, it meant learning two languages.
As Dutchies, we are very well aware that only a very slim portion of the earth's inhabitants actually speak Dutch and as such we get (some) education in at least 3 different languages in high school. Which would make you think that moving to a country where they speak a language you have learned in school would be a breeze. Think again.
Our move to Canada taught us, or me at least, that there is a huge difference between learning a language and actually speaking a language. I remember quite vividly how after 2 weeks in Canada, I thought my English was pretty darn great...only to realize 3 months later that my English actually was, for a native English speaker, as boring as those conversations one hears in an online language course. Where Canadians had about 35 ways of saying how they were doing, I had only one. "I'm fine, thank you."
Thankfully, I was able to find a friend who was willing to serve as my linguistic guinea pig, so I could try out different ways of saying things. Most often by directly translating expressions from Dutch into English...and then having her teach me what the English equivalent of that expression would be. Soon I felt confident enough to actually speak English, rather than reciting the sentences I had learned in school. Unfortunately, that led to another pitfall!
Nothing leads to bigger language mistakes than thinking you can "wing it". And it seems that I in particular have a knack for using the wrong words at exactly the wrong time! Like this one:
During our first spring in Canada, I was at a party. The weather had just changed from rainy to sunny and I was explaining to my friend's husband, that in the Netherlands we have a name for the first warm day of spring. It is called "rokjesdag", skirts-day. Now, in Dutch, the name for tights is "panty". So, here I was, proudly telling the story of "rokjesdag", speaking the infamous words: "...so, basically it's the first day that Dutch women wear their skirts without panties." And yeah. Panties in English means underwear. As in knickers. As in I had just told someone that on the first warm day of the year, Dutch women went commando under their skirts en masse. Whoops!
So fast-forward to our arrival in Norway. The biggest take-home message from our time in Canada was that you will fail no matter what and that you actually learn most from your mistakes. And as I make a fool out of myself on a regular basis anyway, I can't really use fear of being socially awkward as an excuse not to try and speak Norwegian. So, from day one I tried to engage in conversation. In Norwegian, that is.
One of the huge advantages of the steep rise in smartphone usage, is of course the fact that a lot of "conversation" actually takes place online or on-texts. This means that as a language newbie, you don't have to think on your feet, but can actually take your time to figure out what to write. Or just copy-paste the google translation into your message. Unfortunately, this is not completely fool-proof as google translations may not be very accurate. And nor does google recognize the local Norwegian dialect that people use here (yes, they use it in their texts, too). Plus, you always run the risk of cursing google translate for failing again and again to translate a word in a text you got. Only to realize later that the word you were so desperately trying to translate was actually the name of the person sending the message... And yes, that happened to me. Twice.
The more I learned, though, the more I started to realize that Norwegian is actually a blend between Dutch and English. For example, the word for "knife" is "knive", which looks a lot like the English word, but is actually pronounced the way a Dutch person would do if it saw that word for the first time ("kuh-nee-veh"). Should you think, that this has made learning Norwegian any easier for me, you are sadly mistaken. More often than not, it only adds to the muddled, confusing fog that is now what my brains once were. Let me give you some examples (and yes, most of them I have remembered, because they are kind of funny ;-) ).
In Norwegian, there is a verb "å gå". This sounds a bit like "go" and looks a bit like the Dutch "ga", which also means to go. In Norwegian, however, "å gå" means "to walk". So, it was only after someone made the remark: "Well, you made pretty good time then, getting to the Netherlands and back in only a week with 3 children in tow." that whenever I said: "Vi har gå til Nederland i juleferien" I did not say "we went to the Netherlands for Christmas"....but rather that we walked there! Should there be any Norwegians reading this part, I do not take responsibility for any mistakes I make in my Norwegian things I write here (I do know that the Norwegian sentence above is not grammatically correct, though ;-) ).
In addition, "å løpe" may look like the Dutch verb "lopen" (to walk), but actually means "to run". Not to be confused with "å springe", which looks almost exactly like the Dutch verb "springen" (which means "to jump"), but means "to run" as well, but then slightly faster.
A box is not called a box, but an "eske". Because a "boks" is a can. Or this one: In Dutch, a squirrel is called an "eekhoorn". This sounds exactly like the word "acorn". Which of course is the name of the fruit of an oak tree. Now, in Norwegian the word for squirrel is "ekorn" which sounds exactly like "eekhoorn". Or "acorn" for that matter. Are you confused yet? ;-)
To avoid too much confusion, I actually practice conversations whenever I have the chance. I look up ways to talk about the winter holidays for example, so I have answers ready to the most common questions. I even go as far as practicing my sentences out loud. So if you ever hear me mutter unintelligibly, I am probably working through some new replies.
Now, the big problem with that is, that I can sometimes quite reasonably respond to questions Norwegian people ask. I might even trick them into thinking that I can actually speak Norwegian. And so the next time I run in to them, they may actually just ask me something out of the blue. At which point I am in big trouble! Because is she asking me whether my bag is heavy? Or did she mean that my bag has a hole in it? Did he just comment on the weather? Or that I have a big booger in my nose? HELP ME OUT PLEASE I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!!!
Failures aside, the best thing about learning a language is if you can share your learning with others. It works really well to just ask people the translation of English words. Especially when that translation is really funny. Like when I asked my Norwegian friend, who is from Alaska originally, what the Norwegian word was for "beard". It is "skjegg". Which looks funny, but sounds even funnier, because it sounds exactly like "shag". Which cracked me up completely! No wonder so many guys in Norway want to have a beard, hey? Nudge nudge, wink wink.
Like I said before, the scariest moment is when you think you can "wing" it in a language, that you can improvise your way through. It is, however, also the phase that gives the best stories! Like that time when Menno tried to say I love you. Because "sweetheart" is "kjæreste", he said: "Jeg kjære deg"...which means something like: "I cut you" :-) Or that time when I wanted to practice the list of occupations and said: "Kuk jobber i kjøkken." I of course meant to say: "The cook works in the kitchen." Instead of "kok" though, I said "kuk". So what I actually said was: "The cock works in the kitchen." This may only be a one letter difference, but the hollering laughter of my three girls (who did know what kuk meant), still rings in my ears! That is one mistake I will never make again!!!
...I hope ;-)
A box is not called a box, but an "eske". Because a "boks" is a can. Or this one: In Dutch, a squirrel is called an "eekhoorn". This sounds exactly like the word "acorn". Which of course is the name of the fruit of an oak tree. Now, in Norwegian the word for squirrel is "ekorn" which sounds exactly like "eekhoorn". Or "acorn" for that matter. Are you confused yet? ;-)
To avoid too much confusion, I actually practice conversations whenever I have the chance. I look up ways to talk about the winter holidays for example, so I have answers ready to the most common questions. I even go as far as practicing my sentences out loud. So if you ever hear me mutter unintelligibly, I am probably working through some new replies.
Now, the big problem with that is, that I can sometimes quite reasonably respond to questions Norwegian people ask. I might even trick them into thinking that I can actually speak Norwegian. And so the next time I run in to them, they may actually just ask me something out of the blue. At which point I am in big trouble! Because is she asking me whether my bag is heavy? Or did she mean that my bag has a hole in it? Did he just comment on the weather? Or that I have a big booger in my nose? HELP ME OUT PLEASE I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!!!
Failures aside, the best thing about learning a language is if you can share your learning with others. It works really well to just ask people the translation of English words. Especially when that translation is really funny. Like when I asked my Norwegian friend, who is from Alaska originally, what the Norwegian word was for "beard". It is "skjegg". Which looks funny, but sounds even funnier, because it sounds exactly like "shag". Which cracked me up completely! No wonder so many guys in Norway want to have a beard, hey? Nudge nudge, wink wink.
Like I said before, the scariest moment is when you think you can "wing" it in a language, that you can improvise your way through. It is, however, also the phase that gives the best stories! Like that time when Menno tried to say I love you. Because "sweetheart" is "kjæreste", he said: "Jeg kjære deg"...which means something like: "I cut you" :-) Or that time when I wanted to practice the list of occupations and said: "Kuk jobber i kjøkken." I of course meant to say: "The cook works in the kitchen." Instead of "kok" though, I said "kuk". So what I actually said was: "The cock works in the kitchen." This may only be a one letter difference, but the hollering laughter of my three girls (who did know what kuk meant), still rings in my ears! That is one mistake I will never make again!!!
...I hope ;-)
