travel

Year in Languages 2024

19 languages
Warsaw vibes

If this blog got abandoned in 2024, the same cannot be said about my language learning.

On the contrary, in 2024 I learned a new language from scratch – Polish.

On the 1st of January, in the afternoon, I sat down to my first Polish lesson. 

In March, I was chatting away with a Polish colleague. In May, I started reading my first Polish book.  In June, I went to Warsaw and spoke Polish to everyone who would listen – taxi drivers, shop assistants, restaurant waiters, colleagues, and people on the street. In November, I was speaking Polish from a stage.  By December, I had read four books in the original Polish.

Learning Polish has been my fastest language learning journey so far. I am enjoying it so much that in 2025 my main language goal is to continue improving Polish.

What about other languages?

It was a mixture of reading, speaking, and travelling.

I went on several trips abroad, including Austria, Greece, Estonia, Italy, Spain, and Poland, and spoke local languages everywhere. I read forty five books in 9 languages. 

English

In 2024, I continued learning English idioms, albeit less enthusiastically than in previous years. I got engrossed in Agatha Christie, discovered Poirot and his investigations, and have been watching the British mystery TV series “Poirot” ever since.

Estonian

Finally, and the first time since I had started learning Eastonian in 2020, I visited the country. 

My verdict? No problem understanding simple conversations and making myself understood. 

However, when a lady in a bookshop in Tallinn, upon hearing that I was learning Estonian and interested in Estonian literature, struck up a conversation, I had huge troubles to follow and reply.

Not a discouragement, but rather a reality check.

Ancient Greek

I finished Xenophon Anabasis, which I had started in 2023.

Italian

Books read, my little notebook of Italian phrases replenished, plenty of Italian spoken with colleagues, acquaintances, and on a trip to Italy.

Spanish 

Books read, two trips to Spain made, and plenty of Spanish spoken. 

Modern Greek

In autumn, I spent a week in Athens, and had plenty of language practice.

Latvian 

I read and read and read.

French

Read some books, spoke to people. 

Looking back, the year seems uneventful, but this is mainly due to the fact that in the first half of it I was actually learning a new language.

Reading geography

19 languages

Spanish letters

I am late to the party. It took me over 10 years to discover a 2012 project by Ann Morgan to read a book from every country in the world. She had realised that she was reading mainly English and North American writers, and decided to remedy the situation by finding and reading one book from every country, in English translation.

The list of book suggestions made my mouth water. It also made me think: what about my own reading geography? 

I read in different languages, that’s for sure. But from which countries do these books originate?

I decided to do a quick breakdown by the author’s country of my readings, mainly in the originals, but some in translation.

English. The UK and US are obviously well represented. But what about other English-speaking countries?

I have read a couple of authors from Canada and Ireland; one British author born in South Africa and another of Ugandan descent.

But: nobody from the Indian subcontinent, nor English-speaking African countries, nor Australia  and New Zealand…

French. Authors from France and Belgium. That’s it. No francophone Africa, North or West! 

Spanish. The widest geographical representation. Authors from Spain (obviously), but also from Argentina, Chile, Columbia, Cuba, Mexico, Peru, and Uruguay.

German. Obviously Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, and an eccentric selection of authors born in other countries but writing in German: Georgia, Japan, Russia, and Turkey.

Latvian. Writers from Latvia.

Russian. Russia, but also books written in Russian by authors from Armenia, Israel, and Ukraine.

Three languages are straightforward.

I read writers from Czechia in Czech, from Italy in Italian, and from Estonia in Estonian.

Greek. It ‘s all Ancient Greek to me! I have not read a single book by a contemporary Greek or Cypriot author!!!

Translations

I rarely read in translation, so the list is pretty short.

I have read books translated into English from Croatian, Hebrew, Hungarian, and Japanese; into French from Polish and Japanese; into Russian from Hungarian, Japanese, Georgian, Kyrgyz, Norwegian, and Swedish; and into Latvian from Hungarian and Japanese.

After looking at this breakdown, time to draw conclusions.

Unexpectedly, the most broadly read continent, by far, is the Americas! I have read books by authors from the US, Canada, and many Latin American countries.

Brazil is the only major gap, but that is because I intend to learn Portuguese and read in the original.

Breakdown by country in Europe is predictable. Whenever I know the language, I read authors from the countries where it is used. The exceptions are rare and confirm the rule. 

Hence, almost total absence of Scandinavian, Balkan, and Central and Eastern European writers. 

What to do about it? I will definitely learn Polish, so Polish authors can wait till then. Same for Portuguese. I envisage to learn one Scandinavian language, perhaps Swedish, so they can wait as well. 

For the rest, I will need to decide, and it will depend. After Estonian, learning Lithuanian suddenly seems so appealing, to be able to converse in all three Baltic languages. I toy with the idea of learning one South Slavic language, but which?

Last not least, Ukrainian literature is amazing, its history is fascinating, and the future of Ukraine is critical for humanity – I should at least learn enough language to read.

For Asia, my reading focuses on three regions. First, Japan, where I have lived, learned the basics of language, and intend to learn properly one day.

Second, Israel, in excellent English translations from Hebrew and some authors writing in Russian.

Third, Caucasus and Central Asia. This particular regional interest may sound unusual but it is not, if you consider that these regions and the Baltics were once part of the Russian and Soviet Empire, which has led to a fair amount of post-colonial solidarity and mutual interest after we regained our independence.

I have no particular interest in other Asian regions right now, but time will tell.

Finally, the glaring absence in my reading geography is Africa. Given that many African writers write in English or French, this gap is probably the easiest to close.

Year in Languages 2022

19 languages

two flags and two languages

In French, the period between Christmas and New Year is known as la trêve des confiseurs, “the confectioners’ truce”, when many people fall into a festive lull.

For others, especially those like myself who do not care about confectionery, it’s time to take stock.

For 2022, I had set myself three lofty language goals: improving English, continuing learning Estonian, and bringing my Modern Greek to an upper intermediate level. 

But in early 2022, life brought corrections to this plan. I had to scrap Modern Greek, and decided to read in French instead, as an easy way out.

So, how did it go?

Spoiler alert: not according to the plan.

English

In 2022, I continued learning idiomatic expressions, grouped by theme, and deliberately using them in speech and writing. 

On a whim, I decided to read Jane Austen, and surprisingly for myself, I liked it so much that I read every single novel of hers, watched multiple film adaptations, and even followed some YoutTube channels dedicated to her and other female writers of the period. 

On a second whim, I read Agatha Christie, also someone I had never read before, and found her Poirot novels much to my taste. A friend mentioned David Souchet’s Poirot interpretation, I looked it up, and I was conquered, hook, line, and sinker.

I have mixed feelings about my progress, finding it too slow, but then keep repeating to myself, that slow and steady wins the race.

Estonian

Estonian was the second focus of 2022. I took an online intermediate course called Keeletee. 

I did not go to Estonia to practise and buy books, nor was I systematic in learning vocabulary. 

What I did improve, though, was my listening comprehension. I both did intensive listening to short videos in my course, and extensive listening to Kaja Kallas, Estonian Prime Minister, who is articulate, has a clear diction, and speaks about current hot topics at her press conferences. 

Finding an engaging learning material, something you are genuinely interested in, is key to successful language learning. For me, Estonian government press conferences tick all the right boxes, so I will stick with them for a while.

French

I read five books in French, got bored, and stopped. Lately, I have changed my approach and decided to focus on French idiomatic expressions I wish I had known in the heat of the moment. I need to let time do it work, donner du temps au temps, before seeing any results.

Spanish

Unexpectedly, this year I made a major breakthrough with my Spanish conversation. First, several Spanish friends came to visit, then I spent a week in Spain, and, finally, ended up speaking to different Spanish colleagues at various international events. Although the first interactions were always rusty, after a while of listening and mimicking, I would converse pretty comfortably and at times elegantly. It looks like I have reached the tipping point, where my passive knowledge has achieved a critical mass and somehow transformed itself into active knowledge. At least, I like to think so!

Czech

An extra bonus of the year was a trip to Prague. I did a quick refresher by listening to videos of Super Easy Czech and Easy Czech for a couple of weeks before the trip. When in Prague, my Czech was good enough to hold a basic conversation in the hotel, restaurant, or swimming pool. I bought some books and made a mental note to come back to Czech in the future.

Latvian

The local library in a Latvian village where I spend my summers has a good collection of Latvian Classical and contemporary writers, and I took full advantage of it. My Latvian is fluent, yet plain. Reading high quality literature has always been my favourite method to acquire a richer vocabulary; in due course, I trust to make good progress.

Russian

I read some books in Russian early in the year, but given what Russians are doing in Ukraine, I am off any Russian cultural or literary production for a long, long while.

Ancient Greek

I finished Selected speeches by Lysias over the summer, reading every day, and then stopped. 

In retrospect, I regret not carrying on after the holidays, something I had done in previous years, when I continued my morning Greek readings every single week-end, and progressed nicely. 

Latin

I started the year with a bang and read Tacitus Agricola. Tacitus is my favourite Latin author, and Agricola is a masterpiece. I plan to be more disciplined in 2023 with Latin reading, doing a passage every week-end and on holidays.

That’s a wrap!

Happy New Year, annum novum faustum felicem!

It’s all Greek to me

19 languages3 Comments
this is not a fig tree

The question of the third language for 2022 began to preoccupy me in late Summer.

Each year, I focus on three languages of the eponymous nineteen.

One is always English, an uphill battle. 

The second is a new language, to start from scratch and to keep learning for three years. The current target is Estonian, which I started in 2020, have been learning  in 2021, and will continue learning in 2022.

But which language will be number three? 

Among several contenders, my mind was returning again and again to Modern Greek. 

I started a year by doing a joint event with colleagues in Cyprus, and was positively impressed by their competence and reliability. (National stereotypes have a long life.)

As the year progressed, I embarked upon several projects with partners in different parts of Greece, and was positively impressed, every time, by their competence and reliability. (National stereotypes die hard.)

Finally, one autumn afternoon, as I was eating the last fresh figs of the season and dreaming of reclining in a hammock under a fig tree together with a charming Mediterranean gentleman, I received a message from my closest friends, that they would be moving to Athens, of all places.

The stars have aligned. It will be Modern Greek in 2022.

I do not remember where and how I started learning Modern Greek, but I remember vividly my first trip to Greece. It was a study trip with a group from university. We travelled by car, visited stunning out-of-the-way places, ate in roadside tavernas, swam in the turquoise sea, and slept à la belle étoile (under the open sky). Our professor spoke Greek to the locals, which often led to preferential treatment. I remember how impressed I was with his language knowledge!

I learned some Modern Greek in the following years, and acquired some Greek friends, who introduced me to Greek culture, food, and hospitality. 

When the opportunity to do a Modern Greek course presented itself, I jumped into it, and for several years in the late 1990s – early 2000s, attended conversation classes, learned grammar, and read literary excerpts. I even spent six weeks in Thessaloniki, enrolled in a summer language school. Travelling the country after the end of the school, I comfortably negotiated with hotel owners, shop assistants, and restaurant waiters.

That’s to say, that once upon a time, my Greek was roadworthy enough. I had some Greek friends with whom I conversed mainly in Greek, and could hold a decent conversation.

But that was almost twenty years ago. Last time I was in Greece was 17 years ago, the last time I spoke Greek was at least 10 years ago, and the last time I heard Greek conversation was five years ago.

2022, time to catch up!

One year on

19 languages
a trip down memory lane

Today, this blog celebrates its 1st birthday. On this day in 2019, I wrote my first post, explaining why I had named this blog 19 languages

One year later, I have not written as much as I would have wished. For obvious reasons, this year I have not traveled as much as I have done in 2019. My trips to Italy and Spain were purely virtual, more precisely, linguistic. I was overwhelmed with work more than once, too tired to write anything. I had a long summer hiatus, when I lived in the countryside, spent my time primarily offline, although my language learning never stopped.

Still, I was appreciative and surprised that readers like my infrequent posts, and would like to thank all of you for your interest.

Some vanity statistics:

The blog post that was most popular was about Rome-related expressions.

The one about an obscure topic that received attention was about a Latvian poet.

The one that I really enjoyed writing but that received zero attention was on English colour idioms, which made me see red.

They say you should write something that you yourself want to read. This is true in my case. I have devoured language-related articles on such sites as Language Heroes library on 60 languages and Multilingua Blog, written in Russian about Romance languages. I have always regretted these articles were not more frequent, or that similar style articles did not exist in other languages. Or, probably they exist, but I do not know about them. Hence, this blog.

They also say that to write well, you should start by writing frequently. I have not written as frequently as I would like, although it was not the lack of ideas nor material to chew on, but rather the lack of time. Something to improve over the next year.

As a birthday present, three language-related social media accounts that I have discover this past year and that my readers might appreciate.

For English, Susie Dent on Twitter, her word of the day choice is unrivaled.

For Spanish, also on Twitter, La Real Academia Española, which solves your linguistic doubts with a hashtag #dudaRAE and offers a word of the day with #PalabraDelDía .

For Italian, the best bilingual museum account is that of Gallerie degli Uffizi on Instagram, which artfully combines useful with beautiful.

Enjoy, and let continue together to the next year!

Language Monthly, June 2020, Spanish

19 languages

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puerto de barcelona

Strictly speaking, most links I am about to share date from before June.

For the first months of 2020, I was reading intensively and extensively in Spanish, but in early June, I decided to focus on Italian for the rest of the year.

Many years ago, I made a costly mistake starting learning Spanish when my Italian was not strong enough, a mistake whose consequences I have been coping with ever since. Now, I avoid working on my Spanish and Italian at the same time.

So, back to my Spanish links. My favourite Spanish media is Zenda, ‘territorio de libros, amigos, y aventura’. Reading Zenda daily in March, April, and May helped me to cope with menacing, worsening, depressing daily news about the pandemics death toll and inadequate response from many in the positions of power.

Zenda hosts a column of one of my favourite Spanish writers Arturo Pérez-Reverte, called Patente de corso.

I had been reading the column for years before I realised I did not understand the meaning of the title, so I had to look it up. It turns out, patente de corso in Spanish, lettre de marque ou lettre de course in French, lettera di corsa o patente di corsa in Italian, Kaperbrief in German, каперский патент in Russian, letter of marque and reprisal in English, is an old maritime practice, a document allowing a private person to attack an enemy country’s vessel.

Another favourite media is XLSemanal, which publishes balanced articles on important societal topics, interesting interviews, and a series of columns, firmas, of which my favourites are Pequeñas infamias and Mi hermosa lavandería.

Talking about poetry, Desamor by Rosario Castellanos, a Mexican author and diplomat, brought by Zenda, struck me.

Me vio como se mira al través de un cristal
o del aire
o de nada.

Y entonces supe: yo no estaba allí
ni en ninguna otra parte
ni había estado nunca ni estaría.

Y fui como el que muere en la epidemia,
sin identificar, y es arrojado
a la fosa común.

I like the tense and mode variations of the second stanza. The ending, a la fosa común, mass grave, общая могила, and the death in time of epidemics, something which seemed so remote only six months ago and now has become our common reality!

Finally, this interview with a Scheherezade moderna en tiempos de pandemia, a rising star of Spanish literature, Irene Vallejo. Her book, El infinito en el junco, about book invention in the ancient world, has become a real phenomenon in the Spanish-speaking literature and one of the best sellers in the times of the pandemics. Check also her column in El Pais, and basically start reading anything she writes.

El infinito en el junco is the book I most want to buy right now. My last trip to Spain, a few days before the lockdown, was too short to fit a visit into a bookstore, but when the pandemics is over, I will go to Spain again and get myself a copy.

Multilingual is normal

19 languages

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Oh Lithuania, my fatherland

Today is the International Day of Multilingualism.

The date has not been chosen at random: 27 March, 196 BC, is the date mentioned on the famous multilingual Rosetta Stone. The stone is engraved with a decree in three scripts: hieroglyphic, Demotic, and Ancient Greek, and was instrumental in deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphs.

To celebrate the International Day of Multilingualism, I am starting a series under the hashtag #multilingualisnormal, in which I will talk about multilinguals, polyglots, and language learners, mentioned in books I am reading or encountered otherwise.

The first example comes from Amos Oz, A Tale of Love and Darkness (2004), which I read in a wonderful English translation by Nicholas de Lange.

That’s how Oz describes his family, which came to Israel from Eastern Europe.

Books filled our home. My father could read sixteen or seventeen languages and could speak eleven (all with a Russian accent). My mother spoke four or five languages and read seven or eight. They conversed in Russian or Polish when they did not want me to understand. (Which was most of the time. When my mother referred to a stallion in Hebrew in my hearing my father rebuked her furiously in Russian: Shto s toboi?! Vidish malchik ryadom s nami! – What’s the matter with you? You can see the boy’s right here!) Out of cultural considerations they mostly read books in German or English, and presumably they dreamed in Yiddish. But the only language they taught me was Hebrew. Maybe they feared that a knowledge of languages would expose me to the blandishments of Europe, that wonderful, murderous continent.

The picture above is taken in Vilnius, Lithuania, a place frequently mentioned in Oz’ novel, since his father’s family originated there. Speaking multiple languages was common in the region at the time. The monument to Adam Mickiewicz, a great Polish poet, who lived part of his life in Lithuania, reminds us of this linguistic diversity.

When in Rome

19 languages3 Comments

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the Colosseum was not built in a day

Last week, I spent several days in Rome, hence this post. It recalls three common English expressions about Rome and their equivalents in French, Italian, Spanish, German, and Russian.

The first expression is All roads lead to Rome.

Its Italian version is Tutte le strade portano a Roma.
French, Tous les chemins mènent à Rome.
Spanish, Todos los caminos llevan a Roma.
German, Alle Wege führen nach Rom.
Russian, Все дороги ведут в Рим.

100% correspondence.

The second expression is When in Rome, do as the Romans do. In French, the expression is equivalent, À Rome, fais comme les Romains.

Other languages express the same idea differently. The Italians say, Paese che vai, usanza che trovi. The Spanish, Donde fueres, haz lo que vieres. The Germans, Andere Länder, andere Sitten.

And the Russians in similar context use a a picturesque expression В чужой монастырь со своим уставом не ходят (‘one doesn’t go to the foreign monastery with own statute’).

The third expression is Rome wasn’t built in a day. In Italian, it is Roma non è stata costruita in un giorno. In German, Rom wurde nicht an einem Tag erbaut.

In Spanish, two versions coexist: Roma no se hizo en un día, and No se ganó Zamora en una hora, which refers to a long siege of a town of Zamora in the 11th century.

In French the usage is similar, two versions coexist: Rome ne s’est pas faite en un jour and Paris ne s’est pas fait en un jour, the second version referring, bien évidemment, to the French capital.

Finally, in Russian, the similar expression Москва не сразу строилась features only Moscow, which also was not built in a day.

Like a fish in water

19 languages1 Comment

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happy as a fish in venice

Today’s post is inspired by a recent trip to Venice. A famous book Venezia è un pesce (‘Venice is a fish’) by Tiziano Scarpra compares the city to a fish, and recommends getting lost to fully enjoy it.

I did not manage to read the book before my trip, but I did manage to get lost immediately on arrival. Then, my phone kept shutting down, and a colleague mentioned he almost fell off to the water thanks to his phone recommendations. So, I ignored the phone and the map and walked, feeling, like in a French expression, comme un poisson dans l’eau, and thinking about its equivalents in different languages.

In English, an expression to be like a fish in water can be used, but its opposite, to be like a fish out of water, is more common.

In Italian, you can use both:  sentirsi come un pesce nell’acqua and its opposite come un pesce fuor d’acqua.

The same goes for Spanish: sentirse como pez en el agua and como pez fuera del agua.

In German, you say sich fühlen / sein wie ein Fisch im Wasser. You can also be jolly, fit, healthy, etc munter / fit / gesund sein wie ein Fisch im Wasser.  To express the opposite, you say sich fühlen / sein wie ein Fisch auf dem Trockenen.

Back to French. One also uses an expression heureux comme un poisson dans l’eau, which is similar to the English happy as a clam (at high tide).

Although an expression comme un poisson hors de l’eau exists, it is not that common. One would rather say ne pas être dans son élément or ne pas être dans son assiette.

In Russian, one says быть /  чувствовать себя как рыба в воде, but to express the opposite, one uses an expression быть не в своей тарелке,  ‘not to be in one’s plate’, borrowed from the French ne pas être dans son assiette.

The history of the borrowing is funny. The French assiette, from the verb asseoir, ‘to sit’, used to have several meanings, including ‘position’, for example on a horse, and ‘place’, for example at the table. Somewhere and somehow, the two meanings got confused by translating into Russian.