So my friend is from New Zealand, I’m from Seattle, and a lot of times I didn’t understand what the heck he was saying.  Of course, as a linguist I was delighted every time, but stopping to ask “what did you say?” every five minutes was starting to feel disrespectful.  So J instituted a seven second rule… when you hear something funny, give yourself seven seconds before asking…  I would say that seven extra seconds of thought worked more than half of the time, and I might have been starting to really understand him.

Of course, when he was talking to other kiwis, I understood zero.  So at one point I told him that we should try to talk normal, instead of the ESL lingua franca we all learned to default to around each other.  So I’d like to think I was making some progress.

Today I found Beached Az on youtube… which airs on Australian ABC.  Anyway, the whole joke of it is that kiwis talk funny.    I’m surprised to say I understand 95% of it on the first listen.  Obviously they voices are cartoony and exaggerated.  Let me know if you need any translation.

Watch all eleven episodes on a playlist.  Here’s a couple samples…

Multilingual people are always asked things like "what language do you think in?" "what language do you dream in?"

Although I have met a cognitive psychologist who believes thought does consist of language operators, in college I learned the theory that we don’t really think in language. We just think, and then the ‘language organ’ will translate that into your dominant language. That was hard for me to imagine when I was a monolingual, but now that I have a few languages to work with, I will confirm that I think without language all the time.

So the other day I was thinking about successful language learning, and how much I hate flashcards (because flashcards train recall, and recall is a grossly ineffective way of moving lexemes into one’s working lexicon, and because language is more than just lexicon, yadda yadda…). There’s gotta be some non-flashcard strategy that successful L2 speakers achieve.

And I remembered this desire that intermediate students are always expressing to me; they say, I want to get to the point where I’m just talking, where I don’t have to think in English and then translate my English into L2.

It is true that translating is a very different skill than being bilingual. There are plenty of bilinguals who are not good at translating; there are plenty of translators who are not bilingual (I remember asshole monolingual students being skeptical about this). Also, I’ll state without citing much evidence that the standard American L2 classroom is actually training people to translate, not to be bilingual, so it’s no wonder that folks get stuck in "translate" mode.

And then I remembered, back in college, back when I used to care passionately about being a super bilingual, I used to switch my interior monologue. You could say that I chose to "think" in L2; I might say that I used L2 (rather than English) as the default translator of my thoughts. At first I felt like English kept "interfering" with my L2 interior monologue, but then I realized I was anthropomorphizing English, as if it were a jealous goalee in my head. If a specific language is just a habit, I knew (correctly) that I could learn to let it go eventually.

Some functional L2 speakers talk about switching languages like throwing a switch; when they hear a language, they start to ‘think’ in that language, sometimes at the detriment of the other languages. A lot of very highly functional L2 speakers, on the other hand, code switch between L1 and L2 when with peers; both for pragmatic reasons, but also for effect… and for fun; in other words, their switch is pretty loose. In any case, regardless of proficiency, it seems to me that the ability to switch the language of the interior monologue is the mark of a functional L2 speaker. I know plenty of ESL people who say "I mostly think in English now" even if they don’t have superior proficiency.

So if you’re looking for a language learning tip from me, there it is; try switching your interior monologue to the target language. It will be hard at first, but you’ll make new habits, and it will be come easier, especially if you’re immersed in L2. If you’re not immersed, it won’t hurt either. At the very least, it’s communication practice, even though you’re only communicating with yourself.

What if you don’t know enough words? Then ask someone for the words, duh. And yes, you should try to ask in the target language. L2 interior monologue might be good practice, but remember that real, target language communication feeds your language instinct, the same instinct that got you from zero to fluent in your L1 in under five years.

Or, by all means drill yourself to death with flashcards, or dork it up with your SRS practice. Whatever, the point is that switching your interior monologue to L2 was something I tried. It seemed to work for me.

• lunch at Wu Liang Ye with Uncle C
• talent agents that get right back to you
• Davidico the Great
• frequent flyer miles and business class tickets
• people who are rooting for you
• solid, uncomplicated recipes

Meatloaf 1/2 pound pork, 1/2 pound beef, quarter onion, salt, egg, the end of a loaf of bread diced.  Mix, shape into a flat rectangle, bake at 350 on pan lined with foil sprayed with aluminum foil.  Take out after 35 minutes or so, let rest.

Mexican rice toast a couple handfuls of long grain rice in some olive oil.  Dump in some salt, a cup or so of chicken stock, and a few spoonfuls of tomato/onion puree.  Bring to an angry boil.  Cover, lower heat to almost low, allow to cook for 10 minutes.  Turn off heat and let sit for 10 more minutes without uncovering.

I strung together some of my work from my previous employer to be used as a demos to get voice work.

Teaser demo:  download | popup player

Podcast demo:  download | popup player

I had forgotten how funny the teasers were; not just the ones I was in, but there were some real classics from Clay, Erica, Amber… as well as some featuring Amaury, Leo, Christela, and Davidico.

Anyway, I hope these demos get me some voice work.

The other day I was with my friends, all of whom are UW alums, and we were darting in and out of Tribeca bars, looking for the Husky game.  Of course, they asked what game we wanted, and we kept saying “U-Dubb versus….” which just confused people.  You have to say “University of Washington” here, which we kept telling each other… but we’d forget every time.  We dropped the “dubb” on at least three occasions.   It’s hard to not just talk normal, especially around each other.

For my friends who are not native speakers of contemporary American English:  here’s the word “slammed” (meaning ‘extremely busy’) being uttered by someone other than me.

Stay tuned for videos of people other than me saying “jojos,” “squares,” “prefunc…”  maybe I’ll even find one with the word “greener.”

“China Day” is a term usually reserved for days when you wish you not only could speak the local language, but you wish in vain that you could make people feel the burning shame they ought to feel for being inconsiderate, lying to your face, wasting your time, etc. Of course they’ll never feel that burning shame because it’s not in their culture to feel that, so you’re left feeling angry, powerless, and baffled.

I wrote the title of this post with the intention of writing one of those cryptic posts that I write when something awful happens, but I can’t go into specifics on the big blog. Posts like this one and this one, on China days that had more to do with someone I trusted, and less to do with actual Chinese people.

Today in New York was one of those awful days, when someone failed to be the person they say they are, someone got betrayed and hung out to dry. I found myself reaching a limit as well.

It was one of those days, and it was going to be one of those posts.

But then I got a chat that might change everything. Stay tuned.

I’ve had good pizza in Manhattan, really good. I’d say that the level of pizza is higher that most places in America, the trick is the crisp, thin crust and high quality ingredients, even at the deli where they sell slices.

So I wanted to pick up a slice on the way home, so I can get home and concentrate on getting done what I gotta get done. I stopped at Café Arome and the big meaty pizza I had been thinking of had been sold out. I saw half a pie of something that looked like kimchi… I asked what it was, and the answer was "pasta pizza." They had taken zitti and crushed them, hence the kimchi look.

Zitti pizza? So weird. I don’t even like chicken on a pizza. I like chicken, I like pizza, but chicken on pizza seems like a mismatch. Especially when they put barbecue sauce on it. But zitti pizza? what is the thought process behind that? Will there be mac&cheese pizza next? Mashed potato pizza? Rice and soy sauce pizza? Where will it end! Will someone please think of the children?!

I thought about taking a picture, but I became self conscious. I’m sure it will be there tomorrow, if I change my mind. There but for the grace of God go I.

So I paid for my slice of lasagna pizza and left.

Yesterday morning I found myself on the Upper East Side, and as I was walking home I saw that 15 blocks of Madison Avenue was closed for a street fair. It was the A.D.A. Word’s Largest Block Party, which I’d link to, but it’s not really that well described online. So there were hats pashmina scarves and tea and all the shopping I just walked right by. I was hungry.

So to eat, there were gyros, gyros, gyros, gyros, and gyros. And crepes. Some falafels, There was even some pinoys, selling barbikyu, but no rice. I ended up getting tacos de carnitas and an arepa, and then made my way home… which wasn’t easy, as trains were all wonky.

Later I went to S and O’s for some tortilla soup, and then it was a party at E and J’s place, who were in the next building. Hung out at the party for a few hours, met some nice folks, saw some good costumes…and some bad ones. I was a Spanish bull for the 2nd year in a row; next year i want to be a bat.

The walk home was crazy, as was the subway ride. Crazy party people, all in costume, all over the place. It was the damnedest thing.

Today I slept in, cooked myself some pasta, and watched tv all day. Didn’t even leave my apartment to go downstairs to the gym.

Tomorrow, the Navy is performing a 21-gun salute on the Hudson outside my building at 8am. It is supposed to be very loud. maybe I’ll get on the roof to get video. Then it’s off to work.

~ iPhoned it in ~

(that’s the Flatiron Bldg behind me; Madison Square Park.  Also, the ghosts of Run D.M.C.)