Random Dutch (Flemish) VLOG!

Telefoneren, ik heb het er moeilijk mee. Jullie ook?
Laat gerust een berichtje achter!

Video: social experiment

Quand’ero piccola mi rifugiavo sotto il fico nel giardino dei nonni e giocavo a mamma casetta. Mi dava un senso di libertà che ho perso strada facendo.

In de kleuterschool hield ik van huppelen en tekende ik regenbogen en zonnestralen. Kon ik maar weer kind zijn.

In London – the big city – I felt like a tiny grown-up. Vulnerable and empowered at the same time.

Three different settings. Three different impressions of one and the same person, who grew up speaking three languages but can’t seem to identify with a single one of them. In a previous post (read it here) I explained my background and my journey through the world of languages. Today I want to start a series of social experiments with my readers. Ready for the challenge?

Below you will find a video of me. It’s a short compilation of spontaneous spoken language. The aim of this first experiment is not to judge the way I look or the way I edited the video (I’m new to this), but to explore how you are perceived based on the language you speak. What if you speak more than one language? Do people see you as one and the same person or do they feel you change according to the language you're speaking at a particular point in time? As a trilingual person, I sometimes feel like three different people moulded into one.

Imagine us meeting in Italy and me speaking Italian. What would be your first impression of me? Would you feel the same way if we met in Malta with me speaking English or in Belgium with me speaking Dutch?

Does my tone change? Do I sound more confident in one of these three languages? Does your perception of me change based on the language I speak?

Leave your comments below. A detailed discussion will follow.

Poetry and translation

Not many people know this about me, but I’m a big fan of poetry. In fact, my M.A. thesis was a study of poetry from the Veneto region, with a selection of dialect poems translated into Italian and Dutch. I might eventually publish a few here. Let me know if you’re interested!

Poetry is not an easy genre. It’s often misunderstood. Many are convinced that poetry is so deeply entrenched in its language that it can’t be translated. I personally believe that poetry and translation are not mutually exclusive. A poem can be translated, but it will lose some of its original flair, tone and cultural richness. There’s no way around it. However, a translation does not simply take away key elements, it can add to them. Maybe a sound effect is lost in translation, but another one can be introduced, creating an entirely new dimension. The translation takes on a life of its own, based on the words and feelings conveyed in the original text and on the interpretation of the translator, which can be entirely different from the ideas the poet had intended to communicate. As such, translation equals co-creation.

Translating poetry is an art. It requires a thorough knowledge not only of the language, but also of the place where the poem took form, the circumstances when it was produced, the poet’s life and personality. Stylistics can also be tricky. I remember having a heated discussion with my tutor because I claimed that rhyme was an intrinsic part of the poems and, where possible, it had to be preserved in the translation. She disagreed, but I did things my way and I was quite happy with the final result.

To this day, poems are my favourite texts to translate. I’m not sure whether it’s the challenge of preserving both form and content, albeit in a different context, or the deeper meaning behind such texts, but there is something about poems that intrigues me. Poetry needn’t be abstract, boring or difficult to comprehend. Poetry is a window to the soul. With some time and effort, even the most "complicated" of poems can be translated, or rather, moulded into a new, exciting version to be enjoyed in a different linguistic and cultural context. Remember, as a translator you shouldn’t feel trapped, but free to explore and create.

Trilingual?! – Because I get this question a lot.

So let’s clear this up once and for all. My mum’s Italian. My dad’s Belgian. I was born and raised in Belgium, but I travelled a lot, mainly to Italy and the UK. My dad’s Belgian, but London and all things English run through his veins (long story). And now I live in Malta, a.k.a. the rock.

At home I spoke Italian and English. At school I spoke Dutch. Does that make me trilingual? I suppose so. It’s a very unusual situation, I know. And people just don’t get it. Many are skeptical, and I don’t blame them. How can you speak three languages fluently? How can you feel comfortable switching between them? Which one’s your mother tongue? Does your voice change according to the language you speak?

First things first: I feel more Italian than Belgian. My readers know that I have a penchant for il bel paese. Unfortunately I was born in the wrong country. Not that I don’t like Belgium, ma non mi fa né caldo né freddo. I don’t miss it at all. And I certainly don’t miss speaking Dutch. It’s a language that makes me feel uncomfortable. Whenever I meet my colleagues in Belgium I feel awkward knowing I have to speak Dutch. But when they hear me talk – or when they read my translations – nothing gives away my lack of confidence. Or so they say.

I consider Italian to be my mother tongue. Apparently I dream in Italian. Once my dad woke me up, in English, and I mumbled something in Italian. Hubby-to-be and I speak mostly English – although when we first met, we’d switch between English and Italian; there was no logic, yet it worked. When we argue, I switch to Italian and he switches to Maltese. It sounds complicated, but it isn’t. It comes naturally. Our house is a happy mishmash of North and South.

Hubby-to-be says my voice sounds “better” and “sweeter” (whatever that may mean) when I speak Italian, con la cadenza veneta. It’s less harsh, probably because Italian calls for a softer, more rounded pronunciation. My English has probably been influenced by Minglish* over the past few years. My Dutch has a hint of Gents in it.

So why do I write in English? No idea. Just like shouting comes natural in Italian, writing comes natural in English. The brain works in mysterious ways. Maybe one day I’ll decide to write in Italian or in Dutch, but for now English it is.

I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given. My parents should be very proud of themselves. Not because I speak three languages, but because I’m so happy being who I am and doing what I do. Languages are my passion, and they instilled that in me. They taught me the importance of communication. They urged me to keep perfecting my skills. They made me the optimistic “trilingual” person I am today. Grazie mammina. Thank you daddy.

* the English spoken in Malta

Words I love

Today’s post is a little different. Since I work with languages all day, every day, I thought I’d share my favourite words with you – and explain why I love them so much. I’m not going to include the translations, because that would turn you into a lazy reader. I like a challenge, and therefore I challenge you to find out the meaning of the words you don’t know. Not by using Google Translate, but by finding a native speaker who can help you out. I said this in an earlier post: I like personal contact more than I like computers, so make this your task of the day. Communicate. Discover. And look at language from a totally different perspective. Pronounce these words, try to give them your very own meaning. Use them in a sentence. Find synonyms and antonyms. Have fun!

By the way, the languages are in no particular order.

Dutch

Sowieso: a tricky one – many native speakers can’t even spell this word. I think it’s trendy. It makes me feel young and dynamic.

Genieten: it doesn’t sound as peaceful and relaxing as it should, yet it conveys a certain calmness.

English

Gizmo: the name of my adorable dog and such a unique word. A tad aggressive and buzzing.

Odd: I use this one a lot (you’ve probably noticed). It’s short and powerful. And a little quirky.

Italian

Affascinante: passion, beauty, Italy at its best. Sexy, but not vulgar. Blissful. Reminds me of romantic restaurants in the Trastevere district of Rome.

Cucciolo: cuteness overload. Perfectly rounded pronunciation, I always say this with a baby voice. It reminds me of years gone by, green fields, blue skies and daisies.

Maltese

Ejja: when I moved here, I vowed never to include this in my repertoire. Alas, I have failed. It’s so typically Maltese. It perfectly reflects the local lifestyle, a little laissez-faire and a little rushed, but always cheerful.

Hanini: another word I thought (and hoped) I would never use. Adorable.

French

Bonjour: this word makes me smile. In fact, my first e-mail of the day always starts with “bonjour” regardless of the recipient. It’s French but international. It’s elegant and sweet.

Bonbon: how cute is this? Playful, delicious and a teeny-weeny bit childish, but in a good way.

Why not make a list of your favourite words? If you had to define a language using only two words, which ones would you opt for and why? What do you associate your favourite words with?