Anthony Liu Week #15: Forgetting the Language I Never Learned
Though I was born Taiwanese, I’ve honestly had little experience with the country. I used to go every summer vacation, hanging out with my grandparents for about a month, gorging on popcorn chicken and boba. That all came to an end when COVID hit. Before finally being able to visit again last year, it had been five long years since I’d last seen my grandparents—or almost any of my relatives in Taiwan. Being the youngest in my family, I was excited to see the reaction on my relatives’ faces when they saw me after such a long break. Yet among that excitement, I felt a twinge of anxiety. How would I communicate with them?
Though I am a native Chinese speaker, I admit that I’m not an expert. There are some words that I stumble over, and my conversations—which almost always happen in English—have definitely dulled my Chinese. Yet there was another way I could communicate: Taiwanese. Though I had never formally been taught Taiwanese, I had picked it up from the occasional phrases my mom would say to me or that I’d overhear from her phone conversations. That, combined with the Taiwanese equivalent of K-dramas that I would binge with my grandma during visits, gave me a decent grasp of the language. Still, after five years of not even thinking about it, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to pick it up again. Though overall, my Taiwan trip passed without a hitch, I did experience that awkward moment when my relatives were speaking to me and all I could do was nod in agreement—regardless of whether they were asking me a question or just commenting on the weather.
Sometimes I think about how easy it is to forget a language—not all at once, but slowly, like a pot left on low heat. Words slip through the cracks first, then phrases, and eventually, the rhythm of the language feels foreign. And that feeling—of forgetting—scared me. Not because I needed Taiwanese to get around, but because it felt like losing a part of my connection to my family, to where I’m from. Language isn’t just a way to talk, it’s a way to put our most cherished memories into words. And when you forget it, it feels like you’re leaving something behind.
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| Aboard the Taiwanese metro with my stuffed animal. |
Hey Anthony! As I was born and raised in India for the first decade of my life, it is difficult for me to relate with the experience of not knowing much about the country I was born in. However, your comment about not being able to meet your grandparents for such a long time stuck with me as I have not met some of my extended family for more than four years. I also understand your anxiety about wondering how to talk with them. Sometimes, I wonder if I will have anything in common with my friends and cousins when I go back to meet them in a few years. Would they even remember me?
ReplyDeleteAs I have spent more time in the US, I have slowly started forgetting my mother tongue. I have started speaking in English at home and even started forgetting some words for common items. In these moments, I feel terrified that I will forget the language I grew up learning and I revitalize my efforts to relearn as much as I can. Reading your blog has reminded me to be more present and take some time to practice my reading and writing skills in Hindi, just so I don’t forget what it feels like to write letters starting at the bottom of the line instead of the top, the way I first learned to. I enjoyed reading your blog and look forward to reading what you write next week!