The  truth.

Learning a new language

The first time I was keen to learn a foreign language by my own will was at university. I was introduced to some great Latin American literature such as 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' or 'Eva Luna' during one literature class. It was fascinating to learn about Latin America- the history, culture and relations with other countires- and learning the language of that intriguing culture seemed like a obvious thing to do. I was ignorant to the outside of my own country apart from some well-known American novels or movies. Perhaps that is why I was so attracted to it with its unique style, different history and the fact that it was somewhat similar to my own country regarding its political & social turbulence during the second half of the 20's. I enrolled myself for a beginner's Spanish class the following month. This was a totally different experience to learn a language because I wanted to know more about the country & the culture where the language is spoken comparing to the times when it was mandatory to do so like taking English or French classes at school. I was keen to practice what I learned everyday with other students and was happily writing same words for a half dozen times to memorise its meaning and usage. I still remember the excitement of learning new vocabulary, imagining myself speaking the language with the people while I am there. However, my Spanish class going lasted for only a couple of months as my plan to take a gap year abroad was changed. It became less important to learn Spanish when I was in England to improve my English and my interest in Spanish faded away while familiarising myself with the new surroundings and the culture. Unfortunately, I now remember almost none of what I learnt and can only say few words.
Perhaps I might start it again...

To be a free man