What I Miss Most

What I Miss Most About Home. A Short Essay by Emily Rose Oachs

I feel as though I have shorted myself on some of the abroad experience by choosing a country that does not speak English. Obviously, my experience is that much more intense for the sole reason that I do not speak the language and have no way to communicate with about 75% of the population (that's my statistic, not an official one) except through hand gestures and praying for some kind of divine intervention so that the other person will understand. This is all good, and helps me learn how to deal with people who are different from me and everything, but there are some things I really miss. And by some things, I mean one major thing.

People consider us to be "loud Americans," though I really think this is a bit of an unfair generalization. At least coming from them. They are the pot, we are the kettle, and look at that!

We're both black.

It's the combination of their loudness and my inability to understand the language that makes me miss being able to eavesdrop. They sit in restaurants, on the tram, in the metro, on park benches and hoot and holler and chit and chatter about this and that. It kills me that I have no idea what they're talking about when I know full well that if I were in English speaking country (or else understood the language), I would know their first and last names, birthdates, and addresses by the end of my eavesdropping session.

Instead I sit, glowering out the window, at my plate, or at a tree, imagining what they are saying. I naturally imagine that they are talking about me, and laughing uproariously over the fact that they are obviously talking about me, but I am oblivious. It's a vicious circle, and it kills me that I can't turn to them and say, "I know you are talking about me." If I were to attempt to do this now, I would have to point to myself, point to my head, point to them, point to their mouths, point to me. This is a very long and difficult process and is something that I think would only prompt more ridicule and jokes at my expense.

After having had two weeks of Czech class, though, my desire to eavesdrop and understand has only been heightened by the few, select words I have learned. When listening in on conversations, I am now able to pick out some words, mostly numbers, and these only heighten my curiosity about what these people are talking about.

I will be sitting, minding my own business on the metro, with a couple sitting next to me, talking about something obviously important. I naturally tune them out, until I hear them say, "jedenact."
-- Oh jedenact, you say? I think to myself. Eleven what? Eleven hours, eleven days, eleven years, eleven o'clock? The possibilities are endless. Please explain yourself further.--
I then listen closer, trying to figure out why they decided to talk about the number eleven. And then I hear, "Dvanact."
--So you're counting? Very nice. Well I can do that too. And I bet I can predict what you're going to say next. Trinact. Oh wow. Aren't I impressive?--
Though eventually it becomes apparent that they were not counting at all. Instead they say devet or pet or maybe even ctyricet sest, but the trinact never comes and I am left with even less of an understanding of the purpose of their conversation than before I began listening.

At times I get so disgusted that I can't listen in on their conversations, that I listen in extra hard, trying to discern any word they might say. This isn't me trying to put to use my Czech skills, this is instead an attempt to listen so hard that somehow, magically, their Czech morphs into heavily accented, though understandable English. I think if I were a superhero, this would be my superpower. Unfortunately, languages don't morph like that, and as hard as I try, Czech will never sound like English or be remotely related to English.

This is my dilemma: I am forced to live four months in a country where I do not have the skills to eavesdrop. When I get home, I am going to ride the 16 back and forth from Minneapolis to St Paul for a day, and I will eavesdrop on conversations, and I will add in my input to them, JUST BECAUSE I CAN.



In other news:
Laundry day. You know what that means. Embarrassment today, chafing tomorrow.