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Published: June 17th 2014
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Last week Kim and I went to her home church in Winston-Salem; we were there the day after they had the memorial service for Maya Angelou in that same space. Hearing about all the tributes to her incredible life brought to mind two quotes that have stayed with me for many years. One is from her famous story of childhood trauma, when she remained mute for several years after being raped. She spent the majority of those silent years in the little library of Stamps, Arkansas, reading every book they had on the shelves. This led to the celebrated tag line of her story: when she finally did speak, she “had many things to say, and many ways in which to say them.” With six fluent languages and more than 50 publications to her credit, beginning with her first short story published in the Cuban underground newspaper
Revolución, it’s clear she spent her whole life mastering many ways in which to say many things. The other quote from this uncommonly larger than life literary giant reveals something of her down to earth common humanity. She struggled with what the psychologists label “Impostor Syndrome.” No matter how much acclamation and affirmation she
received, something deep down told her she was faking it. She confessed that each time she embarked on a new project, she would think, “Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.”
There’s precious little in my life that connects me to the greatness of a writer and social-justice activist like Maya Angelou, but I can identify with the Impostor Syndrome. On my small scale, I have been showered with acclamation and affirmation for the lifework I’ve discovered in Cuba, and I have been overwhelmed by the support that’s come from far and wide for our upcoming trip. Something deep down haunts me, though, telling me that in this extended stay, someone will finally discover that I’ve been running a 20-year game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out. In a literal sense, I really have been “faking it,” at least as far as language is concerned. In addition to relying on Kim’s good language skills on many of our trips, over time I’ve learned to fake my way through conversations. The prospects of teaching a seminary class all in Spanish, though, has given
me great incentive to try to actually learn the language, so I’ve spent the past six months struggling mightily to master the logic of
por and
para, reflexive verbs and subjunctive tenses.
Along the way I discovered a strategy for language acquisition, a method that truly works. It’s a multi-faceted approach that involves listening to Cuban music, memorizing familiar passages of scripture in Spanish translations, Skyping a Cuban-American friend each week, and working with computer-based programs like Rosetta Stone and Anki. The key to the method, though, is my daily 45 minutes on the cross-trainer at the Y where I have my IPad in front of me, tuned in to a telenovela (Latino soap opera). The stories are easy to follow and are completely captivating; every day is a cliff-hanger. Unlike
General Hospital, these Telemundo shows only last a few months, and I’m now on my third novela,
La Impostora. The protagonist, Blanca Guerrero, has a legitimate reason to suffer from the Impostor Syndrome; she is a professional impostor, donning various disguises to infiltrate the evil Altimira family empire and uncover long-hidden secrets in her quest for justice. I’m not sure how well the idiomatic language of the telenovela
world will prepare me for teaching seminary, but I think I’ll do well on the streets.
When my friend Sila Reyna from La Vallita was here this spring, she got a kick out of hearing me talk about the novelas. The Cubans are hooked on their “stories” too. Hosting Sila for three weeks was no doubt the best method for learning Spanish, Cuba-style. What was great for me was discovering how much deeper you can take a friendship once the conversation gets beyond a superficial level. Sila has always felt like family, due to her and her family’s wonderful sense of welcome and hospitality. But on this trip we got to know each other on a whole new level. Early on, as we shared stories and reflected on various events, I made an offhand comment that unbeknownst to me communicated to her that we were truly kindred spirits, with a shared world view and philosophy of life, particularly as it relates to Cuban history and politics. She was so excited, and couldn’t wait to get home and tell her family that I am “ok” and that it’s fine for them to be fully and freely themselves when I’m there. Even more than the daily cliff-hangers of Blanca Guerrera and company, Sila’s affirmation inspired me to kick the language learning into high gear. I find the prospect of deepening long-held friendships to be quite the motivator. Given the difficulty factor of Cuban Spanish, I’m sure I’ll still have to do a lot of faking my way through, but I have high hopes that after ten months of immersion, I, too will have many things to say, and many ways in which to say them.
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Vivian Gosey
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So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good-byeeeeee!
Kim, I am so excited for you! I had no idea you were off on such a grand adventure. I know this is a dream come true for you, and wish you all the best. I look forward to keeping abreast of your travels through this blog. Thank goodness for the internet! I miss you and know you will be a blessing to all who meet you, as well as receive blessings as you faithfully do God's work. I love you!