Religious Meltdown

Sunday, July 29, 2012

After another harrowing taxi ride with Dona Sandra and her 3 grandchildren, I arrived at church grateful to be alive. I found out I am attending the La Campina Ward in the Los Yoses Stake. Sacrament Meeting went well. I enjoyed the talks and understood much of what was said.

We had another good Sunday School lesson, this time about Alma's advice to his sons in chapters 36-39. The teacher is very animated, confident, and uses visual aids such as posters, which she hangs on the board, to deliver a very spiritual, well-organized and thorough lesson. I enjoy her lessons very much and even though she speaks rapidly, I understand what she is saying. Toward the end of the lesson, she challenged the entire class to follow her to the stand next Sunday to bear testimony during Fast and Testimony Meeting. I was puzzling over whether I should consider doing that next week, when she called on me to give the closing prayer. I was so shocked and unprepared, that my first thought was "NO!" but I remembered that we should serve when asked, so I hesitantly said I'd try. Big mistake! HUGE MISTAKE!

I am basically a very shy, timid, reserved person, although I've tried really hard over the years to break out of some of that. I compensate for these short comings by preparing VERY WELL when I am asked to give talks in church, teach lessons, and so forth. I've gotten over my fear of praying at church as well. I can do all of this fairly well with advanced preparation and prayer. I have been saying my daily prayers in Spanish since I arrived here, but that was not enough to prepare me for praying in public in Spanish. Obviously in school, we are not taught, nor have I ever learned, religious vocabulary. In short, I blew it...big time.

I was so tongue-tied, that after I said, "Heavenly Father," I barely choked out a basic, "We thank you for..."  And it went downhill from there. I tried to say we were thankful for the prophet, but I was so flustered, I couldn't even remember the name of the prophet! I'm not sure what I said, and I don't think anyone else was sure either. Somehow I finished. Hopefully, I said, "Amen."

As soon as I sat down, the woman next to me, Raquel, said, "I can help you." She proceeded to tell me in English that she had the perfect way for me to learn Spanish. She said she would come by tomorrow to show me her method. She was very kind, but the more she talked, the worse I felt.  I think she kept saying something about my pronunciation. Pronouncing Spanish is NOT a problem for me, in fact, I’ve been told my pronunciation is just fine. The problem was that I was so panicked, I could not think of the words to say, but she kept talking about my pronunciation and that was depressing me to think that was a problem, too. As we were walking back to the chapel for a combined meeting with the priesthood, THE BIG MELTDOWN began...

I was so frustrated with myself. Frustrated that I even attempted to pray in Spanish. Frustrated that I knew the words to say, but couldn't think of them in my moment of need. Frustrated that I didn't have the presence of mind to just switch over to English to finish the prayer when I realized that I was in trouble. Frustrated that I have worked so hard these past 6 years to re-learn Spanish after 25 years of letting it lie dormant and yet I still have trouble speaking. (I think there may have even been a fleeting thought of frustration that I had beans for breakfast again today.)

And then I started crying. I bawled in the chapel as quietly as I could for 30 minutes straight. I didn't want to walk out because that seemed so dramatic, and I didn't want everyone behind me to see my red face. I finally left with 15 minutes left of the meeting. I went to the bathroom and cried. I walked out to the curb to wait for the taxi, still crying. I cried all the way home and then cried off and on through the afternoon. I guess I just needed to let out all the frustration of the past 6 years and of the missed opportunity 35 years ago when I was in college to travel to a Spanish speaking country and really get this language down.

Sometimes in the United States, we get frustrated when we call a company for assistance with whatever product or service we want to use, and a person who speaks English with a strong accent answers. Or we are out and about, maybe at the mall, and we hear people speaking their native language (usually Spanish.) A year or so ago when we carpeted our basement, 2 men showed up to lay the new carpet. The entire time they were in our house they spoke Russian. I don't know about you, but it feels uncomfortable when I am in the presence of people speaking in another language. I don't know what they are saying. Maybe they are talking rudely about me? I don't know. So out of frustration, we say something like, "If a person wants to live in America, they should learn/speak English."  I have never liked to hear people say that because I know how difficult it is to learn another language.

Face it folks: there are many, many words we use every day. We have been learning those words since we were babies. We practiced and practiced as we learned our native language, and our parents and relatives thought we were so cute when we mispronounced words or used them incorrectly. We learned our language in a comfortable, encouraging environment over many years.

As a foreign language learner, we try to cram the equivalent of 15 years of total immersion as a child into a few hours weekly in the classroom. When we make mistakes, instead of someone thinking we are cute, we get a bad grade. We feel humiliated. Then when we venture into the "real world," we face real people who may not have the patience our parents had. They look at us funny, they may smirk, and they are impatient.

Living in another country has given me even more insight into the difficulties of being an immigrant. The teacher in my class told me that I have a broad vocabulary base. He was surprised at some of the words that I know. However, despite that base, I still encounter many, many everyday words that I just simply don't know. It is frustrating and humbling. I know that I am trying very hard to continue to learn Spanish and I don't want anyone here telling me that if I am going to live or visit in Costa Rica I need to learn or speak Spanish.

It's just a thought, but perhaps when we encounter someone trying to communicate in English, we could replace our judgmental thoughts that insinuate they are not trying, to thoughts of encouragement and admiration that they ARE trying. Offer gentle assistance and patience, rather than hostility, impatience, and harsh judgment.

As for me, I'm feeling better tonight, but how do you say, "Good Night?"   Just kidding...Buenas Noches!



La Campina Ward

 

The chapel is the building on the left.