The Wonders of Duolingo and Speaking Spanish Poorly
Learning languages is fun!
Today is an important day. Today marks my 100 day streak on Duolingo.
I love Duolingo! - Indigo Dewdrop Ghonima
What a cast of characters. What a cheeky crew! What a motivational bunch. Those snarky notifications make me feel something. It’s like they truly care about my bite-sized learning, which is more than I can say for those other lousy champs in the industry.
Duolingo is engaging and it fosters a supportive community. I make sure to send out digital high-fives to every one of my friends for every single one of their successes. Not a checkpoint will go uncelebrated. That’s just the kind of Dulonite I am. Yes, Dulonite, a person who do Duolingo. But, be warned, if I see that you’ve passed me up in lessons, I will make it my mission to crush you. I will feel the full spectrum of sweet pride and conquer when I leave you in the dust. Duolingo isn’t just a learning tool, it’s a mirror. The entire history of human nature—the ruthless competition, the vigorous fellowship—plays out on this digital landscape.
I was obsessed with Duolingo during the pandemic when I took my year-long Instagram hiatus. Maybe it felt like a more palatable addiction. Maybe it satisfied some desire to achieve in the classroom (after all, I had just escaped—oops, I mean—graduated from the Columbia University). Anyways, you could find me whispering broken French into my phone, on the toilet, mid-conversation, studious as ever. Ping, ping, ping—my success still invades my brother’s nightmares.
Today is a big day for me because, in my last foray with this app, I lost my streak on my 99th day. All you Dulonites out there, you know that hurts. And I’m someone who finds followthrough especially challenging, so this not—quite-but-almost accomplishment is that much more frustrating. Why didn’t I just show up for one more day? Why escape success?
In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron writes:
We usually commit creative Hara-kiri either on the eve of or in the wake of a first creative victory. The glare of success (a poem, an acting job, a song, a short story, a film, or any success) can send the recovering artist scurrying back into the cave of self-defeat. We’re more comfortable being a victim of artist’s block than risking having to consistently be productive and healthy.
Completing the streak would mean that I had the capacity to learn another language. I think this aura of possibility scared me. I was afraid of the work that I would have to do to make it happen, so I stopped myself short. Today, I’m following through. Today, I get to bask in the glory of my commitment and discipline.
Before I arrived in Costa Rica, I practiced for 2.5 months on Duolingo and I listened to the Duolingo Spanish Podcast religiously. The universe conspired in my favor when Maisey’s mom added me to their Super Duolingo family plan. Another Artist’s Way concept at play here: synchronicity. But, to become really fluent in a language, you have to speak! I practiced with my friends at work. We would walk around the store naming grocery items, and when Spanish-speaking customers were checking out, I would practice my numbers. Quince dolares con ochenta y siete centavos por favor! I was happily surprised at how much I retained before my trip.
In Hojancha, no one speaks English. It’s the perfect place to learn immersively. Now, it’s real. A girl’s gotta live so a girl’s gotta speak Spanish. My takeaway: the most important thing you can practice as a beginner, especially if you’re traveling, is listening. Deep. If you can understand what others are saying to you, then you can respond. And no matter how poorly you speak, the native speaker will likely be able to piece together what you’re trying to say.
We’ve made plenty of mistakes. Most of them are hilarious or have to do with synonyms. Like when my neighbor was saying something about “tenis” I thought she wanted to play tennis with me. But she was telling me that she sells shoes.
One day, we were eating at a restaurant and it looked like they were getting ready for a big crowd. It was a Sunday. Earlier, I had heard the Catholic Church bells ringing in the town’s center. I ask the waitress, “Mucha gente viene despues la iglesia?” She shrugged and said “Si, pero hoy es un dia especial. Hoy es el dia del padre.” Thinking “el padre” was the pope, I thought there must be some Catholic holiday that day! How interesting! Pat goes “Oh, es lo mismo en los estados unidos”! I’m racking my brain trying to think of the date and then I realize — it’s Father’s Day. I set a reminder to text my dad that day.
The most hilarious exchange was this one:
Pat mistakenly told our friend: Mayra’s brother can f*** me at the hill. I’m going to your dad’s meat market to tell him about it. And when I tell you, he won’t ever be able to live that one down, believe me.
On our Workaday profile, Pat said that we were intermediate Spanish speakers. While that may not be entirely true— when we told our friend that we had posted this, she laughed a little longer than I was anticipating—I am so incredibly proud of how far we’ve come. We’ve navigated buses, worked at a restaurant, and had some pretty philosophical conversations in Spanish. My only goal right now is to practice more tomorrow. For a 101 day streak.