i turn on NPR in the mornings and sometimes they do a report on China. in the background there are the murmurings of a language that i grew up with- heard in the womb, learned as my first language, travelled in China to chase in earnest.

i hear the familiar accents and tones but don’t always comprehend. i think about flowers for algernon, and how similar i feel when i realize that my grasp of a language has slipped without my noticing.

it’s such a strange feeling, to look back on theses and papers and letters that i wrote with my own words, but not be able to understand them.

i’m sure i could write more elaborately on this. but it’s just a thought.

Comment 1

  1. Luisa August 14, 2010 2:00 am

    Dear Rose,
    i so totally empathize! I have these kind of moments all the time. As I'm walking through the streets of Bogotá and my brain starts drifting away while I ponder something in English and the sounds of my childhood (a bus, the ice cream truck..) and the spanish around me brings me back.

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