One week, 15 hours, and 5 homework hours into Danish lessons makes me 5 months and 20 days closer to speaking fluently to my father in law one day. That's the running joke in the family anyway. That in 6 months I'll be fluent in Danish. It's part sarcasm based on the fact that Danish is one of the hardest languages you can possibly learn, and part hope that I will finally be able to speak to my Danish family sooner rather than later.
My class has 17 members from various parts of the world. There are 3 Americans, 2 Chinese, 2 Lithuanians, 1 Parisian, 1 Hungarian, 1 Brazilian, 1 Mexican, 1 Canadian, 1 Russian, 1 Indian, 1 Senegalan, 1 Dominican Republican, and 1 Polak (or Pole) if you'd rather have the English translation. We're as various as our countries, but the one thing that we all have in common is that we found ourselves in Denmark for one reason or another and want (or have to) learn to speak the language while living here.
In one week I am pretty amazed at how much we have learned. We can introduce ourselves, say where we come from, tell how many languages we speak, and return the questions to one another. We can also count to one hundred and tell time. Lastly, we have begun to learn how to formulate sentences and conjugate verbs and nouns. Our vocabulary is limited (we still haven't learned the days of the week or months or seasons like language class in college would begin) but we are able to get through everyday situations and courtesies which is the whole point.
Living in Denmark is not just about being with the one I love. It's about loving the life I live. I can only do that by integrating myself fully and embracing the language wholeheartedly along with its people and customs. It also means swallowing my pride even though sticking my tongue out of the mouth when talking just doesn't feel right.
