Immersion

I pulled myself through the water, lashing the sea with my arms, beating it to a froth with my legs, reveling in the almost alien, yet at once completely natural sensation of swimming. At the buoys, I stopped, turning onto my back to rest, my eyes now facing the shore and the Barcelona skyline. Emptying my lungs I allowed myself to sink beneath the surface, suspended by the thick brine of the Mediterranean in a world of azure. Motes of pyrite, unique to the beaches of Barcelona, dancing in my vision, flashing like gold in a miner's pan.  Hanging there between the blue black abyss and the glittering turquoise surface I suddenly became aware of a profound calm. Not a zen emptiness, but a stillness of self. Like the thundering science of an empty stadium, my mind, or rather the usually riotous pre-frontal cortex mind, was curiously still. This sudden realization, and the resulting probe of inquiry, broke the spell, popped the bubble of tranquility, the ambient chatter of my consciousness came flooding back in; I realized then what it was. Immersion. 

My little cousin who is only six years old and already speaks three languages fluently, described the experience of keeping track of multiple languages like this: "I have lots of boxes in my head," she explained seriously "I have a box for Spanish, a box for English, and a box for French." Now I have a Spanish box too. It's quiet, largely empty really, and not cluttered with scraped notions, raged bits of verse, and feral thoughts, like the English box in which I have up till now lived in exclusively. To use the great analogy by which Man has chosen to misunderstand himself in this era, I've partitioned my hard drive. 

Up until this point in my life, Spanish for me had only been another poorly preserved academic artifact living in the reassesses of my mind. More like a ratty old reference book pulled out from time to time to order food, pick out lyrics from a song, or communicate with a day laborer. I've been In Barcelona for two weeks now, and this past week especially I've been communicating exclusively in Spanish. I've had the opportunity to spend quite a bit of time over the last several days with a wonderful family, friends of my uncle, who are staying in the apartment across the hall from mine while on holiday.  They are a family of South American transplants living in Paris, and they have made me feel like one of their own this past week.  Once again, I am blown away by the warmth and openness of the latin spirit. They have gone out of their way to include me in everything. I've done as much as I can to repay their generosity, but there is no way I could ever thank them enough for the hours of conversation and patience as I stumble through my speech. I know I must sound to them as I butcher verbs and reach for false cognates, but they have been patient, understanding, and eager to instruct.  

It's a bit of an odd feeling transitioning back to the part of my mind that thinks in English, especially if the switch is abrupt. If I try to speak in English two quickly after speaking spanish, It comes out in the same ungainly clipped way that my Spanish must sound. Yesterday I had to laugh because for the first time ever, I had meant to ask a question in English but it came out in Spanish instead.  I couldn't have asked for a safer, more welcoming environment in which to begin this process of Immersion. It is exciting, this process of learning a new language. It's a bit like turning a corner in your house and finding a whole new sweet of rooms that you never new existed. It feels like I've added new mental real-estate, psychic Lebensraum if you will. I know that this holiday will end soon, and the training wheels will come off at that point but I already feel like I've made a quantum leap, and I feel much more confident for it.