新澳门开奖结果

I鈥檓 from the United States and, many years ago, lived in Mexico on a college exchange program. I went there on a spur-of-the-moment decision and stayed for almost four months.

When I arrived, I could barely say the word 鈥榯aco,鈥� but after a few weeks of intensive 3-hour-a-day classes, I began to pick up the language.

The family I lived with spoke no English, which made the first month extremely challenging. It forced me to use my broken Spanish combined with gestures and pantomimes. As a result, I was quite the entertainer. At dinner, I鈥檇 stare into the distance as I formulated a simple sentence, and when they saw that, they鈥檇 all set down their forks, sit patiently, and await my statement, usually something benign like 鈥淔ood good鈥� or 鈥淪chool fun.鈥� 鈥淢uy Bien, Brian!鈥� they鈥檇 say after I spoke.

Locals attended the same school and as my command of the language improved, I made friends. They took me to their homes, showed me their town, and we shared tips on our respective languages. I鈥檒l forever be grateful that they taught me to 鈥榯ry鈥� and not worry so much about tenses and conjugations 鈥� and to just get the message across.

They told me: 鈥淛ust give it a try. We鈥檒l be able to figure out what you鈥檙e saying.鈥�

I learned that perfection isn鈥檛 necessary when speaking another language. Four months later I found myself traveling all over Mexico, speaking and communicating confidently. I remember the taxi ride to the airport where the driver and I chatted about everything for an hour, and he complimented me on my language skills. Only four months, and I spoke quite well.

Fast forward to my return to college. With great pride and my new Spanish-speaking skills in hand, I signed up for advanced Spanish classes, with the plan to become fluent so I can travel the Spanish-speaking world with ease.

On my first test, I got an F. My second test ended in an F. I dropped the class.

Turns out, in college we鈥檙e expected to speak and write Spanish with precision, to conjugate verbs in the proper tense, person, voice, number, and mood. In contrast, what I knew was to simply throw verbs at the listener and let them figure it out. Nuance would come later, if at all.

So, I took a lower class. Failed that one, too. Devastated, I dropped it and took a beginner class.

One day the teacher introduced a pair of students from Mexico to the class. They鈥檇 come from the same city where I studied, so I was eager to talk with them. The teacher explained that they spoke no English and if we had questions, we should raise our hands and ask them in Spanish. I looked around the room and saw a sea of eyeballs bulging with terror. The thought of speaking beginner Spanish to actual Spanish-speaking people scared everyone but me.

So, I raised my hand and asked them where they lived. I asked if they knew any of my friends (they didn鈥檛), and I asked them dozens of questions while the rest of the class sunk deep into their chairs, hiding, relieved that they wouldn鈥檛 be embarrassed trying to articulate Spanish in perfectly formed complete sentences.

I knew my Spanish was worse than my classmates when evaluated by vocabulary, verb choice, and conjugation, but I got my message across and enjoyed a lively two-way conversation that afternoon.

After class, I invited them to a party (it was college, after all), and all evening long, I hung with them and translated English and Spanish back and forth with everyone who wanted to speak to them. They had a fantastic time, and so did I.

I failed that class and gave up on formal Spanish lessons, but I can still hack my way through a Spanish-speaking country.

The lesson is: Don鈥檛 get hung up on perfection.

Whenever I visit a country that speaks a different language, I learn a few words, verbs, and phrases. I use them knowing that my pronunciation, conjugation, inflections, and all the nuance that goes with a language will be terrible.

They don鈥檛 care. They love it when we try.

Trust me. Speak up, speak poorly, and enjoy yourself.