One of the biggest hurdles of living
abroad is language differences. Language is incredibly important, not only in
getting ideas across but in making connections. People underestimate the value
of connectedness until you’re surrounded by the senseless twangs and twitters
of a language you don’t understand. It’s incredibly frustrating, not to mention
lonely. When you finally come across someone that speaks your language, it’s
like a sigh of relief, an immediate feeling of closeness.
My first official day at the hospital, I
met two Australian medical students and instantly felt relieved like letting
out a breath I didn’t
know I was holding. “YES! There are foreigners to
experience this with me, AND I can speak English, thank god.” Even though I can
understand Nepali, it’s still foreign to me, a completely different phoneme
set. I never learned it in school, and I haven’t used it extensively in over a
decade. It takes an extra second and some mental work before the message
relays. Even though I had just met them, I felt an instant sense of comfort. I
know they can understand me. Ashleigh & Heidi were my saviors my first few
days at Kanti Children’s Hospital. They showed me around and gave me a proper
orientation. They had already been at Kanti for three weeks and are almost done
with medical school so I had a lot to learn from them. I could translate for
them, and they could explain the medical cases to me when the doctors were too
busy. Ashleigh mentioned that explaining cases and treatments to me was a nice
refresher for her. I’d say the three of us made a pretty good team. Unfortunately, the next week they were off to a different department, different
team. Alone again, but this time I am a lot more confident…
Although at the time it was frustrating,
I’m really grateful that I grew up multilingual. When I was young I hated
attending ESL (English as a Second Language – yes, I only learned English when
I was 3 or 4 in case you were wondering) and being confused about what language
to use. Now, I can’t imagine not being able to understand my own family.
Looking back, I laugh because my Nepali only ever comes out when I need to
speak about something in private. When I’m out shopping with my mom in the U.S.
and we’re being hounded by pushy salesman, I can talk freely without worrying
about them cleverly twisting my words. I chuckle thinking about how my aunts
and uncles seamlessly go back and forth among three or four languages all in
one conversation without missing a beat. Sometimes I wonder if they even notice
it. The words are arbitrary. They translate into meaning no matter what
language is spoken.
At the hospital, I see how hard it is
for other foreign students who have to sit and wait for someone to translate
for them. Even then, sometimes thick accents can block any sort of
understanding. However, it is nice to know that people here WILL try to
communicate and translate for you. All the doctors speak English and Nepali.
Most can also speak Hindi, and some of the surrounding dialects. With a little
hand waving/pointing, and writing, the point gets across.
Hopefully.
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