Where did it go?

Oh, my brain is tired.

I am in two classes for language: the first in the day is a phonetics class and the second one in the day is a script class. The phonetics class I am doing semi-decently in, but I think that’s because I had a good start from two years ago.

However, I’m not going to lie; I feel like the slow kid in the script class. Granted, the class is comprised of Melissa and me so one of us is bound to be slightly better, right? I can learn the letters, but when it comes to reading, it takes me so much time to put the sounds together and form the word. Compared to me, Melissa is quite fast. When it comes time to the reading, I cringe. It’s quite humbling.

Just to be clear, there are 39 consonants, 11 vowels, and a gazillion combined letters that sometimes make sense and other times are a complete crock (so says the American).

And I think I have learned something about myself (it’s either a lacking synapse in my brain or an excuse . . . take it as you will). A ton of language study is learning the vocabulary. Before I learned the enough of the Bangla letters to form words, all my vocabulary was written phonetically in our English script. I found that I was relatively decent at learning vocabulary in the beginning. However, now that my vocabulary is coming to me in Bangla script, I cannot get the words to stick in my mind. I can say the vocabulary over and over and over, but when I try to come back to it, it’s gone.

Where did it go?

I am thinking that my brain is wired to learn in English script (because that’s all I’ve ever learned in)even if it is another language. And I am a visual learner. I think. Now I have to develop new synapses in my brain to learn in Bangla, and it is just slow in coming. Ugh. My brain is working very hard.

It doesn’t help that Melissa is a whiz.

So today during script class I, the slow one, was trying to sound out a word and I kept coming up with the word Bangkok. Now, mind you, we had read the word for Bangkok yesterday, so it was in my mind. I kept saying it, Melissa kept laughing and the teacher was trying to have me look at it and say it again. Gosh. The word was bank.

Later on in the day, Melissa and I were sitting in the front room pretending to study, and the teacher who had taught our script class said he was leaving. I replied in Bangla, “kothaY jaben?” Where are you going. “Bangkok,” was his reply, holding up a ledger. I hung my head sheepishly, laughing. To the bank. We all laughed.

Our teachers like us. It helps that we are almost always here when they are here because we live here. We get many free lessons as we ask questions while the teachers are trying to take their breaks. I don’t really think they mind, though; they seem to get a huge kick out of us. We all laugh a lot. Several times they have told us they are going to add all their extra teaching to our bill.

Instead, I will give them chocolate. Who doesn’t like chocolate?