Tell us about a moment when you used the wrong word or used a phrase incorrectly.
Describe the context and how you felt.

Dear Bi-Lingering,
I remember a time when I used the wrong word. Actually, it was that I mispronounced it. I was visiting my family in Irvine, this is where my mom’s side of the family lives. When I’m there I have to communicate in Dari. If I don’t, I get scolded. I was trying to tell my aunt that I was going to take a shower: “Ma shawar migiram.” My aunt responded with a confused look. After some back and forth she understood what I meant and explained that “showar” means husband, so I basically said I was going to take a husband! “Shaawar” was shower. “Shaawar” is just adapted from English. I don’t even know what the proper Dari word is! At any rate, I was very embarrassed, and whenever I want to say that phrase I pause so I don’t mispronounce it, or I say something completely different: “Khode meyshoyam” - “I’m going to wash myself.”

Sincerely,
Bi-Lingerer

Write about a word or phrase you learned that had an impact on you. Where or from whom did you learn it? Why did it have an impact?

Do you have a traumatic memory associated with being a Bi-Lingerer? What happened?

Dear Bi-Lingering,
When I was about 8 years old we went to California to visit extended family. I had never met one of the aunts who had recently moved from Australia. I was staying at my Aunt Laimah’s place when the doorbell rang. I went to open the door and one of the aunts had arrived for our family reunion. She asked: “Mara meshnawi?” Do you recognize me? I nodded yes, but that’ wasn’t enough.

“Kist-am?” Who am I?

I honestly wasn’t sure. At the last minute I said, Khala (Aunt) Fereba?” Her face contorted as she angrily said, “No, I’m Khala Assia!”

I don’t know how I was supposed to know-we had never met, but maybe she expected me to recognize her from pictures. Needless to say, we were already off on the wrong foot.

Later that afternoon the family was all speaking Dari and my aunt Assia asked me a question, which I didn’t understand. My understanding of Dari was very limited because we always spoke English at home. Suddenly, Aunt Assia started screaming at me about why I didn’t know the language, that is so bad, what kind of parents do I have, etc. etc.

I went upstairs to the room I was staying in. I managed to hold back my tears till I got there, but when I arrived I cried and cried. I didn’t understand why she was so mean or how I could fix the problem. I felt so alone, not understanding what was going on around me.

To this day my mom said she wasn’t yelling at me and that’s “just the way she talks.” She and her family even laughed at me for being so “sensitive.” They thought I misinterpreted what happened.

I think that event had a really strong impact on me. I remember it frequently. I think it also made me very afraid to make mistakes with language. Instead of asking a question when I don’t understand, I just nod and act like I do understand. This limits my ability to expand my language proficiency, and it also means I don’t connect with people as much because I don’t understand. It leads to a superficial relationship. I try to put that memory out of my mind and be vulnerable and ask questions, but sometimes it feels safer to be quiet.

From,
A Bi-Lingerer