"Language gauze" just doesn't have the same ring to it

I had my first embarrassing misunderstanding before even leaving the country.

I went to Boston on Friday to try to get my Visa for France. I brought everything possible, from a form not even listed on the consulate website (which I needed), to an express mail envelope (which I did not need) and my latest pay stubs (ditto). I had had to go to the Italian consulate in Frankfurt twice to get my Italian Visa, and was not interested in scheduling a later appointment, or God forbid being told I had to go to Chicago.

To my surprise, things seemed to go rather smoothly. The girl manning the window was so seamlessly bilingual, I couldn't tell if she was American or French. She asked for a few of my documents in English, then, still looking down, continued in French.

"Pourquoi tu as besoin d'un visa ? Tu vas étudier en France ?" (Why do you need a visa? Are you going to study in France?)

Or so I thought I heard through the thick pane of glass.

"Ah...n-non," I stammered, "....je...je s-serai assist--"

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I was talking to someone back here," she said.

I blushed. Of course. I should have known she would never tutoyer with me, even if she was young.

Even after profuse apologies on both sides, I still felt slightly embarrassed; I had forgotten the deer-in-headlights look and feel questions in a foreign language can cause me, and was dismayed at my inability to get out such a simple sentence.

English, French, and German all have very similar variants of the term "language barrier" (Sprachbarriere and barrière de la langue). This is unsurprising, as it can indeed feel as if a wall is erected between two people when neither speaks the other's language. However, even with foreign languages I know, I still feel as if there is some sort of screen or veil between me and my interlocutor: a filter which partially blocks both incoming and outgoing communication. Or sometimes just gauze over my ears, muffling everything around me.

Forcing words through the screen and intently listening through the gauze are far from without their rewards--what better way to experience others at their most genuine?--but there is no denying that it is exhausting. I really hope I am prepared for Round 3.

A title 18 months in the making

The title of this blog would have been far more apt around February of last year, as it refers to a few of my favorite German words: Naktschnecken, Schildkröten, and Regenbogenhäute. Slugs, turtles, and irises to those of us whose mother tongue affords us less literal terminology. I named it thus, however, in anticipation for my move to Paris in September, which I hope to document in this blog. Discovering lingusitic and cultural differences is the most stimulating part of living abroad for me, and these words represent just how eye-opening the learning of a simple word or turn of phrase can be.

Ergo: Naked Snails, Shield-toads, and Rainbow Skins. Viel Spaß damit :)