Anndrea Scroggins
The water swept over my feet, burying my toes in the swirling tumult of sand. Warmth from the overhead sun melted down my shoulders, but the ocean breeze kicked up my hair and made me forget about the heat. My little sister and our new friend waded through the water with me. We plunged our hands under the waves, pulling up handfuls of mud-like sand and tiny little shells that skittered across our hands and dropped back into the salt water.
Hermit crabs. They were everywhere. After hours in the car — our family was driving across the Southeast Asian country where we lived — the feeling of hundreds of little rounded shells in the sand poking up at our feet was delightful. At first, it had just been my sister and I traipsing about the beach. Then a girl, about our age, appeared in the water beside us and our duo morphed into a trio.
We simply explored the wonders of the beach together. We laughed, admiring the shells we’d found. Behind us, further up the beach, our father talked with her father. They could string a conversation together, but the three of us barely had anything to say. It was all communicated through smiles.
The next day, my family set out across the water with her and her father. He wanted to show us an island further off the cost. We spent most of the day there, playing in a rocky cove, dazzled by all the beautiful shells we kept finding. We scrambled up the rocks in the water, pushed around by dancing waves.
Years later, my team and I were drinking coffee in a different Southeast Asian country where we had gone to teach English. An elderly woman sat in the corner, smiling at us. We said “hello” in the local language, smiling back. The next thing I knew, my teammate was practicing her numbers with the woman, counting them on her fingers. A relationship formed. After that day, each time we passed on the way to the English Center the woman would call out to my friend, using the nickname she had given her.
Neither of these relationships thrived off knowing the same language, but they are some of the most vivid in my memories.
When language cannot be used to connect, other methods are exposed: learning, playing, watching others play, or working together on the task set before you. If you are nervous about communicating with those who speak another language, if you are worried about language barriers, know that you do not need language to begin a friendship.
Now a word of caution: Do not throw language to the wind.
You are there to teach English. Just don’t let the barriers barricade you from taking steps forward, even when you feel untethered in a country where you do not speak the local language.
