They never tell you that you forget your own… what’s the word…? 
language.
I could have browsed a hundred expat blogs, read a thousand expat forum posts, filtered through a million dos-and-don’ts, and never had I heard that the command of your mother tongue is reduced to that of a moderately gifted third-grader- the kind that gets extra credit for using a word with more than three syllables. I thought, despite my numerous character flaws, that my command of the English language was worthy of a gold star or two. I played with words and grammar like I played doctor- and I played to win. I could turn a phrase into a dick joke, or a dick joke into another dick joke. I was the jockstrap on the nutsack of Americanized, 21st century, Generation Y English. I was master of my own linguistic domain.
Turns out that didn’t mean a goddamned thing after I left the homeland. Here, away from home, away from my influences and my peers, they only act to obfuscate. I’m Superman in a kryptonite mine; Wonder Woman at a urinal. My powers are useless- and if anything, they’re detrimental to non-native English speakers understanding me at all. I thought English- my English, and by that I mean dick jokes- was universal. Turns out my English is not a universal language, and the language I speak now, while resembling the language I spoke in America in many ways, is slower, more articulate, less idiomatic- but it is not my native language. I never used to have to think about the things I said until now. If you think this is a good thing, well, you’re missing the point. I miss not having to think.
But if you think I have it bad, just think about the poor saps who attempt to speak German to me. God bless them, those poor souls. I can barely speak English now, I feel sometimes, and I’m expected to learn a new language? Nein, danke. Mein Deutsch ist schlecht.
I am an American living in Switzerland. Linguistically, this is the equivalent of Sarah Palin at a Mensa meeting. The Swiss are polyglots- they learn at least two or three languages growing up- and one of them nowadays is almost always English. Not only that, but in the German areas of Switzerland, they effectively learn two German languages- their spoken German (the rather melodic Schwyzertüütsch) and written German (which is the German I learned in high school).[1] But I know exactly one language with any fluency. Yes, I took German in high school, but Germany is pretty far away, so there wasn’t much opportunity to practice. I could have taken Spanish, but we didn’t have a gardener growing up, so not much point there.
So, when I joined my new group in Switzerland, I was quite literally the only monoglot in the group. Sure, I might be a postdoc, I might know certain areas of chemistry like a boss, but my ignorance of languages looms over me at all times. Everyone else in the group has another language they can turn to when they feel the need to communicate in a more raw, honest way- something that gives them an identity. English is the work language. But their work language- that is my only, my personal language. I feel naked, in a way. Naked and dumb. Seems strange, I guess, but there it is.
Fortunately, nobody expects me to learn a new language. The working language at the institute is English. The postgrad courses are in English. Everyone here is fluent in English. In fact, sometimes I think the Swiss prefer if I didn’t learn a new language. The following situation takes place on a daily basis:
Swiss cashier: “Grüezi!”
Excimer: “Grüezi, kann ich zahlen, bitte?”
SC: “Ja! jelgüüagegohääfkelgrioøhnwgjhioewgiowjyi032j0yleisli?”
E: *cocks head* “Wie, bitte?”
SC: *immediately switches to perfect English* “Will you be paying with credit card?”
E: “Umm.. yes?”
This is the dreaded “What in the living hell did you just say” moment- the one where I’m forced to come face-to-face with my own ignorance in a real-life situation and have an “educational moment” with a cashier when the line behind is ten old Swiss women deep[2]. Fine, that comes with the life of a foreigner. You play the foreigner game, you lose, you move on. However, the next situation, which is far more common for me, is even more irritating:
Excimer: “Grüezi! *says something in perfect spoken German because he totally heard someone who is actually fluent in German use it in this particular situation and for Chrissakes, my accent isn’t that bad is it?*”
Swiss Worker: *immediately switches to English, apropos of NOTHING* “Sure, I would be more than happy to help you find that.”
Well, okay, great, please help me find that particular product I was looking for, I’ll be over here REELING in my shitty German-riddled angst. Where did I fuck this up? How did they even know I’m American? I mean, yes, I’m a bit overweight, which is the calling card of the Anglophones, but it’s not like I’m wearing a t-shirt with the American flag on it or anything. I don’t understand. They seem have a sixth sense about these things, and even when I try to fit in, it’s not good enough. And it’s a Swiss thing- the Germans don’t do this, at least when I’ve been in Germany, and the French sure as hell don’t (unless they’re waiters, because Americans tip well).
But I get by. I learn. I take courses (or make a solid attempt to). I attain a more solid feeling for non-verbal communication, when I learn that someone is angry at me because I took their fork. The world’s languages might have spread from the Tower of Babel, but Americans, well, I guess we were stuck in the tower basement. Eventually you have to go upstairs and see what it’s like outside. It’s confusing. It’s frequently irritating. But also enlightening.
By the way, if you were expecting a post about science, forget it- this language issue is way more interesting to me. “Why is there grease in my NMR sample” is universal. The happy dance when you get a nice crystal structure is universal. Science is universal. And kind of boring, but in a nice, familiar way. And when you’re that far away from home, you’ll take any familiarity you can get.
[1] It’s actually fairly interesting why young Swiss speak English so well, especially compared to the surrounding countries. I had this discussion with several Swiss people in my group. Movies at the cinema in Switzerland are not dubbed, only subtitled, unlike in France and Germany where they are dubbed. Because of the Swiss preference to not dub, things like American and British movies and pop music have led to a surge of interest in learning English among younger people. In cities like Zurich you’d be hard-pressed to find a Swiss person under 25 who didn’t speak good English.
[2] Rule #1: Do NOT mess with old Swiss women. They will give you the look of death and send you an angry letter. And you do not want to get either.