I have never been good at languages. I’ve studied a few languages, including Latin, French, Hebrew, Greek, Spanish, and Lakota, but I have failed to become fluent in any of them. I have great admiration for my friends who are multi-lingual. I had the good fortune of traveling in Central America with a woman who had been a professional translator for the FBI during her active working career. Her specialty was conversational translation. She did little translation of documents, rather provided a way for interviews to take place when agents did not speak the same language as the person being interviewed. She had mastered at least a half dozen languages. She grew up speaking multiple languages. Her parents emigrated from Japan to Brazil. Their family spoke Japanese at home, but the language of her school and of commerce in their town was Portuguese. She also learned English and Spanish in school, so was fluent in four languages while she was still a child. She added German and was able to take college classes in French as an adult. She knew a lot about other languages as well.

Traveling in Central America with her was a delight. She would translate during the natural pauses in conversation. With her help, I could sit and have long conversations with the pastor of our sister church in Costa Rica. Occasionally, she would touch my arm, if I was getting long-winded and not pausing for translation, but it was so unobtrusive that it became natural within minutes. I confess that I envy her gifts of language.

Part of learning a language is learning to listen and hear the subtitles of pronunciation. Some things are easy. For example, the letter V is pronounced W in some languages. Once you know that rule, it is pretty easy to apply it. But there are other language sounds that require an ear that is trained to hear distinctions.

Once, when we were visiting Europe, we got into a conversation with friends who spoke German about the pronunciation of the vowel O when it has an umlaut. An umlaut is a mark over a vowel that indicates a different vowel quality. The word that we were using as an example was the name of the city Köln. In English the name is written cologne, which is not logical in its pronunciation with the silent G. Our hosts, fluent in German would say the word, Köln for us and we would try to repeat the sound exactly as they said it. When I tried, they would laugh. I thought I was mimicking their sound exactly, but they could hear what was to them an obvious distinction. They would mimic my pronunciation and then say the word correctly and I could not hear the difference. Later, when we visited München, which is Munich in English, I pronounced the name “moonshine,” and got away with it.

I don’t think that I have a technical flaw in my hearing. I simply have not trained my listening to the particular subtle differences in sound that are required to speak without a heavy accent.

When we lived in South Dakota, people would comment to me that I pronounced the word Dakota differently when I was speaking of North Dakota than when I was speaking of South Dakota. It seems that I picked up a particular midwest dialect while living in North Dakota. I am aware of it enough that when I exaggerate those sounds I can hear the distinction. I can pronounce Minnesota and Dakota with an O sound that is common in those places.

Even speaking English in a way that I am understood is a bit of a challenge for me.

Once, when officiating at a Jewish/Christian wedding, I read from the Hebrew Scriptures. A guest at the wedding commented afterward, “You could make a good rabbi. For a minute there I thought you were speaking Hebrew.” I wasn’t sure how to take the compliment, because I definitely thought I was speaking Hebrew. Apparently I do so with a heavy accent. I was, on another occasion, able to learn the wedding vows in Spanish well enough to officiate at a wedding where the couple both spoke Spanish. I did have my translator friend present to assist, but it was important to me that they heard and repeated the vows directly from me. We got by. The wedding ceremony was lovely. Sadly the marriage ended in a divorce later, but that is an entirely different story.

I have a couple of language challenges that I’ve been wrestling with recently. One is part of our move to this new place we call home. I grew up in a place that was formerly part of the lands reserved for the Crow nation. They call themselves Apsáalooke. When I try to pronounce words in their language, I get a response similar to when I tried to say Köln in German. In my own defense, the word Baaxuwuaashe, doesn’t roll off of the tongue easily for an English Speaker. For 32 years of my life I lived in the land of the Lakota and tried to learn a few words in their language. But now we have moved to the land of the Coast Salish people. The Lhaq’temish, original inhabitants of the place we live, speak a language that is different in sound and spelling than the languages of the plains Indians like the Apsáalooke and Lakota. I’m trying to learn a few words, but even when I pronounce words after a native speaker, I fear that I am not saying things correctly.

My other challenge is the proper pronunciation of Türkiye. The country I have known as Turkey is now known as Türkiye after an official recognition of the name at the United Nations yesterday. The request for the change of name was made in a formal request from Ankara. We have friend who live in Türkiye. I’d love to go there and visit them. I don’t know if we will have that opportunity, but at least I’d like to learn enough to say the name of their country correctly.

After I’ve mastered that, my Japanese could certainly use some work as well.