November 27th, 2009
In a nutshell, what’s so great about English is that nearly everybody speaks it these days!
That is certainly true here in Greece. In fact, shortly after I arrived here to live the Greek government passed a law declaring English as the country’s official second language. What that means is that every school age child has at least some education in the English language. And as native English speakers either living in Greece or traveling frequently in Greece, what could be better? Especially since we (English and Americans in particular) are so dedicated to our native tongue that we obstinately resist learning other languages. In fact, we sometimes become annoyed at others who do not speak English, no matter where they come from or what their native language might be. How tolerant we are in this regard!
Of course, American English is a derivative of the original, and it is often said that America and England are “two great countries separated by a common language.” (Credit George Bernard Shaw). For those of us hailing from the two different countries (so similar yet so very different culturally) it is easy to see not only the humor in that statement, but also its wisdom. Lucky for us, though, there is enough commonality between the two versions for us to get on quite well together, and even to share the nuances of our cultures in ways that those whose native tongue is different cannot – even if they speak English as a second language!
Nevertheless, the entire world, it seems, is dedicated to learning English. I must confess that I am continually amazed at the amount of English spoken here in Greece – and this is not a new phenomenon. Nearly twenty years ago, when I first began visiting Greece, it was true as well. In fact, I remember being so surprised by the amount of English spoken that I asked a young Greek woman who worked at the American Express office in Athens about it. She said: “We know the rest of the world is not going to learn Greek, so it is necessary that we speak English.” Astute observation, considering it was twenty years ago. And it is no less true today. The Greeks (as well as just about everyone else who comes from a small country that speaks its own language) understand that English has become the world’s first universal language, and prefer it or not, they certainly embrace it. Again, how lucky for those of us who learned English at our mother’s breast!
Frankly, I love the English language. It is a rich one indeed, with a huge vocabulary, countless idioms, interesting dialects, and often a humorous perspective. I have even chosen to make my living (more or less) conveying ideas in the English language. I owe it a lot.
I must also now state, for the record, that I am not one of those who refuse to learn other languages. I speak good conversational German (the language from which English is derived; it’s true), reasonable street French, and an ever increasing amount of Greek (which I have learned by necessity rather than by choice). Still, I’m constantly encountering English- speaking people who live year round here in Greece, people who have lived here longer than I, who obstinately refuse to learn even the most basic phrases in Greek. Usually, these people become irritated when they do encounter a Greek that doesn’t speak English (as if English had been ordained by God Almighty as the only civilized tongue on the planet). I’m certainly not ready to make that assumption, but the rapid spread of English not only throughout Europe, but also across the globe, suggests that before long nearly everyone will speak it, at least to some degree.
Recalcitrant attitudes aside, I do have one story to relate that poignantly demonstrates the commitment of the Greeks to learn English, even as it demonstrates my own rather feeble effort to bridge the so-called language gap – or at least what’s left of it – which isn’t much! During our second winter here on Corfu, a young woman who owned and operated the frontestirio in our village approached Kelly and I with a proposition. (For those who do not know, a frontestirio is a secondary school that most Greek children attend after the finish of their regular classes at school. The purpose of most frontestirios is the teaching of foreign language, predominantly, though not exclusively, English. The young woman proposed to Kelly and me that we become teachers at her language school, the reason being that: 1) she was short of teachers; and 2) she felt her students needed the experience of being taught by native speakers of the language. We were flattered by her offer, but not speaking much Greek we were also skeptical of our ability to teach English to Greek-speaking children. The teacher told us not to worry, because her technique was one of total immersion; namely, only English was spoken in the classroom, even to the youngest students, who were all of nine or ten years old. After a number of attempts, she persuaded us to give it a try; Kelly would teach the younger children, and I would teach the older ones.
For a period of two months, we visited the school regularly to gain a sense of the instructional system being employed, as well as to meet the students: to see the place in action, so to speak. These visits only fed our initial skepticism, but the young and friendly teacher remained convinced that we were indeed the ones for the job, and she dismissed our objections one after another and cajoled us to continue. Eventually, both Kelly and I did indeed head various classes. The instruction technique was, to say the least, rigorous. The younger students were wildly enthusiastic, but also quite unruly. The older ones already spoke a good deal of English and often amazed me by their knowledge of what I would have considered sophisticated words and phrases. The teacher, we soon learned, had done her job well. Whether or not we were doing her effort justice remained, for us, quite in question.
After two months at the frontestirio, both Kelly and I decided that the job was quite beyond us. Not that we were deficient in our language skills, but we felt decidedly inept as teachers. With our apologies and our thanks to our benefactor, we resigned the ad hoc post, leaving the instruction of English in the hands of those more capable than us – namely Greek teachers who had been trained (mostly in the UK) to teach the English language.
I might say that it was a humbling experience for us, but that would be understating the truth. In fact, we both gained great respect for both the teachers and the students at the frontestirio. Their dedication went far beyond anything either of us had ever seen in American schools, and we presumed that the same might hold true for English schools. Apparently, the pressing need to learn a subject tends to generate such overwhelming enthusiasm, but of course we who speak English shall never know about that need, shall we? Which makes me ask the question: Are we indeed the lucky ones?
David Ross is an author and publisher.
http://www.open-bks.com
http://www.happyholidayscorfu.com
http://www.corfumagazine.com
Image taken on 2009-11-02 19:18:55 by dkuropatwa. Image Source. (Used with permission)
Related posts:
Write a Comment