Multiple languages, multiple personalities?

For me, being a language student has for years entailed speaking the target language in the classroom and mainly switching back to English otherwise. However, living in Spain for my year abroad has started to give me a different perspective on multilingualism. I’ve spoken to some friends about this, who feel the same. So, what is this mystery language-learning phenomenon? To put it simply:

To speak like a Spaniard, I change my personality.

This might sound a bit weird at first, but hear me out. Although I can more or less express my own thoughts and feelings through the Spanish vocabulary that I’ve learnt, I feel like communication is more than just informing the listener of your thoughts, etc. It involves body language, intonation, interjections… which is where, obviously, people from different countries just aren’t the same. My English phrases and linguistic quirks make up part of who I am, so when I have to replace them, it’s as if a part of me changes. Let me give some examples:

In English, this could be a typical phrase of mine:

“It’s quite a difficult module… I dunno, it’s just a bit… advanced”

whereas I think a Spaniard my age would be more likely to say:

“Es una asignatura bastante difícil, o sea, es avanzada, ¿sabes?” than:

“Es una asignatura bastante difícil… no lo sé… solo que es un poco… avanzada”.

Maybe I’m wrong – I certainly don’t claim to have gained a complete understanding of all the nuances of Madrid Spanish yet – but from what I’ve seen, Spaniards, especially ones my age, speak in a certain way – they’re very sure of themselves. I’m sure they aren’t all super-confident, but I do often hear the word “¿sabes?” (“you know?”) at the end of a sentence, a bit like when Brits say “y’know what I mean?” not really expecting a “no” in response.

Another example would be the swearing. Here (though I’ve been told that this varies in different Spanish-speaking countries) swearing seems to be a lot less “serious” than back home. OK, so maybe “s***” and even “f***” are pretty commonplace in certain settings in Britain, but when’s the last time you heard an English-speaking parent casually calling their child the c-word in public? Exactly. Even though these words have “equivalent” meanings in English, they certainly don’t have the same connotations, to the extent that I prefer to use asterisks for the English ones but not the Spanish. There’s a reasonably large piece of graffiti/art at university, which has been there at least since I’ve been here (4 months), that I haven’t included here, because, frankly, it’s not suitable for work, but it’s a bold declaration of “mi coño, mi decisión” (“my c***, my decision”), accompanied by a delightfully relevant illustration. Apparently it’s OK that this exists on campus.

Here’s a quick summary of two of the most common swear words I’ve noticed here:

• joder – (a lecturer to the class as an expression of slight exasperation).

~ f*** (annoyance, surprise, used with friends).

• coño – (used in a “what the heck” type phrase, or from despairing parent to child).

~ c*** (quite rarely used in England, one of the more taboo and offensive words, at least in my experience).

Those of you who know me well know that I’m not much of a potty-mouth, so having to express surprise like a local just doesn’t quite feel like… me. This got me thinking about other languages as well. Being of half Thai descent, I’ve grown up speaking some of the language, and I guess when I do so, I change a bit as well – I become extra polite and respectful, and I reckon my voice even raises pitch.

I suppose this all comes down to the interlinking nature of language, communication, identity and culture. This post has certainly allowed me to reflect, and I hope it’s been thought-provoking or at least interesting to read about my little language/identity-based quarter-life crisis. Any ideas/opinions on this are welcome; now I’ll leave you with your effing thoughts.

Hasta luego!