I’ve been thinking about what different people we become when we speak different languages.  How does character manifest differently say, when you switch from English to Hebrew? Or from Italian to Arabic? Or from German to Swahili, or from Swedish to Njerep?

I know that in English my outgoing, mildly assertive side stands in front of me happily being the person I think I am. I admit that flapping in the breezes just at my shoulder are remnants of the high school girl’s fears of dating because she was too shy to eat with anyone but family members, but English Ona’s language runs to her tongue like a world class sprinter; verbs drop from the air as lushly as leaves in fall, prepositions shuttle into place at precisely the time they are supposed to – just like a train pulling into the station.

But who is Ona, in Hebrew, this woman studying Hebrew 5 hours a day plus 3-4 hours of homework?  Who the immigrant Ona, who even has a different name in this other language?  Where is assertive Ona, when Libi is shame-facedly pulverizing verbs at the stationary store in an attempt to buy a notebook?

Is this Libi an idiot? A sit-in-the-back-row sort of a woman who’s never done anything interesting? A dullard…?

In English, I was creating my language-self from the time I learned to talk. In some ways, I made myself by my language, and like an expert actor, I practiced and practiced, growing into me, becoming more and more the only one who could ever play the role with any expertise, who could ever get the accent just right, who could ever choose the word Ona would choose.  

Who was I when I learned Italian? Who will I be now, learning Hebrew. In Italian, did I become a luscious Italian beauty with a slightly mysterious accent and some sexy little turns of  prepositions that made handsome waiters return to my table time and again to lean close and ask, “Un altro bicchiere di vino, signorina?” 

That didn’t happen. But I did learn about Italians and Italian culture. I did get a bigger mind; stereotypes did fall away. I changed. Still shy at times, still assertive when need be, I grew. In Hebrew I’m hoping as well — to paraphrase Don DeLillo — to ride the sentences I’m beginning to understand into new perceptions.