Beyond the Language Wall

Language changes completely when it becomes part of everyday survival rather than something studied from a distance. Living abroad teaches you not only how to communicate, but how to navigate people, uncertainty and discomfort. You may never feel fully ready, but much of the real learning only begins once you arrive.

Language changes completely when it becomes part of everyday survival rather than something studied from a distance. Living abroad teaches you not only how to communicate, but how to navigate people, uncertainty and discomfort. You may never feel fully ready, but much of the real learning only begins once you arrive.

A slightly controversial take on language learning to start an overcast Friday morning.

I think most language learning done outside the country where it’s spoken is, ultimately, just a hobby.
A fun hobby. A useful hobby. But a hobby all the same.

You can memorise zillions of words, smash proficiency tests, binge YouTube videos and chat with your teacher every Tuesday night.

Then you land.

Suddenly you’re standing at city hall wondering what on earth the person behind the glass just asked you. Your boiler dies and you’re trying to explain to a plumber that you have hot water everywhere except the shower. Or your estate agent awkwardly tells you the landlord doesn’t want to rent to foreigners, and you’re left wondering whether you misunderstood… or whether you understood perfectly.

That’s when language stops being academic.

It starts affecting where you live, whether you can explain yourself, whether you get the job, whether you make friends, and sometimes whether people take you seriously at all.

When I first came to Japan, I was, for all intents and purposes, deaf and dumb. It was frustrating and exhausting to say the least.

Looking back, though, it was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me.

You spend enough time walking into walls and eventually you stop treating them as walls. They become part of your landscape, and little by little you learn how to get around them.

You also learn a lot about people.

Some will slow down without making you feel stupid, repeat themselves without losing patience and quietly help without expecting anything in return. Others will talk down to you, dismiss you, or see the gullible gaijin as someone they can take advantage of.

Both are great lessons.

One group becomes your support network. The other teaches you who to steer well clear of.

So if you’re thinking about moving abroad but you’re worried your language isn’t “good enough,” just go.

Study before you leave, absolutely. But don’t wait until you feel ready, because you’ll never be.

Tread carefully, but tread bravely.
The language will come.

And the person you become by actually living it is something no textbook can ever teach.

*Photo by Jason Sung on Unsplash

‹ What I Gained by Letting Go

Take the Long Way in the Age of AI ›