Nie Rozumiem
Miscommunicating in my new language is an ongoing adventure. Waiters and waitresses are usually patient as I read the menu with a dictionary at my side. Others deliver their finest monologues in Polish, sometimes not noticing my vacant look of incomprehension until 20 minutes later when they are done. Sometimes they never notice, and just think I am very shy. This “shyness” ploy works very well in English, for that matter.
When I first arrived, one of my most useful phrases was “nie rozumiem” (I don’t understand); often I’d just say “nie rozumiem po polsku” (i don’t understand polish) and then they’d usually just give up altogether. After a week or so of classes and with some confidence, I threw in a “rozumiem” (I understand) once in a while for every few “rozumiems”. But experience has hardened me, and made me realize that understanding 75% of what someone is saying very often leads to disastrous miscommunications. So, today, I have adopted my new Polish phrase, “rozumiem, może” (I understand, maybe).
In summary, my speaking “style” in Polish, if I have one, is to say “nie rozumiem,” “rozumiem,” “rozumiem, może,” and occasionally another word or two of Polish thrown in here and there just for style.
Very often, I lack the benefit of ever really knowing what a miscommunication is about. There was more reliable feedback during my Polish classes in Krakow and Chicago. For example, I was told to write a letter to a friend, following a model in our workbook. In the workbook, the sample letter seemed to say something like “Hello dear friend, it’s warm here in Greece.” I made my own version, hoping to say, “Hello dear friend, it’s cold here in Krakow.” My teacher was there to tell me, no, that wasn’t right. The workbook example translated as “Hello dear friend, warmly, from Greece,” and my version was “Hello dear friend, coldly, from Krakow.”
Here in Płock, my great grandfather’s homeland, there’s not a whole lot of English spoken. I love this because it gives me real practice in Polish. Very often, people are friendly and patient. Very often, though, I get a glimpse at the hardships of life as an immigrant. Maybe these are some of the same challenges that Ignacy faced. Sometimes, incomprehension can be a convenience, such as today when I wandered around a government building and opened some door I wasn’t supposed to, blissfully ignorant of what I presumed to be a stream of Polish profanities that followed.
Tags: Ancestry, Genealogy, Language barriers, Poland, Polish, Travel
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