Life in 3 Languages

I grew up surrounded by one language: English. My encounters with other languages were few and far between, the most extended one being my three semesters of college Spanish. And then I moved to Moldova.

Now, there are three languages in my life.

Romanian, the official language of Moldova (or “Moldovan,” depending on who you ask), is in many ways the dominant language of my everyday world. I hear it on buses, in stores, on the radio, in the street, at school, and at home—it is my only means of communicating with my host family.

But, surprisingly (or, not so surprisingly, considering my job), English remains a prevalent part of my life. It is the subject I teach five days a week and the focus of three after-school clubs I lead. Every day I am conscious of its pronunciation, its grammar rules, and the millions of possible patterns in which its words can be arranged. In the hallways of my school and in even in the street, I am constantly greeted with an enthusiastic “Hello!” (and, if the person is feeling particularly brave, “Do you speak English?”).

And then there’s Russian--the language that all Moldovans understand and that a large percentage of them primarily speak. It’s the language of most Moldovan television channels and of countless books, magazines, food labels, and street signs. Because many of the students and teachers at my school are Russian speakers, I hear it on a daily basis. Even though my Russian is limited to the most basic of words and phrases (such as, “Good morning,” “I don’t understand,” “Excuse me, where is the bathroom?”), I know the sounds of it well enough that I can instantly tell when someone who had been speaking in Romanian suddenly slips into Russian. And since this happens quite a bit, this is a valuable skill.

I’ll admit that it can be frustrating that my knowledge of Romanian isn’t always enough to get me by (i.e. when I’m at a store in Chisinau and the cashier only speaks Russian, or when I’m trying to decipher the operating instructions of a household appliance which are written in that dreaded cyrillic alphabet). But it’s a fascinating thing to live in a country where the lines between languages are so often blurred.

I recently sat in on a faculty meeting in which I observed a conversation between two other teachers. One of the women spoke entirely in Romanian. The other teacher carried out her end of the conversation in Russian. They spoke like this for several minutes, completely oblivious to the fact that two different languages were being spoken.

And the other day as I was sitting in church, I noticed that the woman to the left of me was holding a Bible printed in Romanian, the woman to my right had one in Russian, and I was sandwiched in between them with an English Bible. A perfect snapshot of my life here.

So, yes, life in 3 languages can be exasperating and bizarre. And sometimes I miss the certainty of knowing that when I open my mouth, the person I'm talking to will understand me. But I like my new life. It's rich, complex, and decidedly more interesting.