farewell espanol

How many adoptive parents grow melancholy when their children’s first language disappears?

I’ve tried to keep up with the Spanish with the girls. I talk with them every day, hold conversations, use many nouns and verbs. And, while they still understand me, the do not respond in Spanish.

At first I thought this was a choice. New family, new country, new language…they just wanted to fit.

But earlier this week I had a conversation with Kelly that went like this:

“Kelly, en Espanol, como se llama este parte del cuerpo?” and I pointed to my nose.

“Nose.”

“No sweetheart, en Espanol.” She looked really confused.

“Nose.”

“No, that’s in English. In Spanish it’s nariz.”

We then cycled through a number of body parts and she could only call them by their English names. She really could not remember what they were in Spanish.

Now with Kelly I wasn’t too surprised. Our youngest only speaks in English. People are often surprised to find out that she’s only been here 5 and 1/2 months. She conjugates, uses correct pronouns and proper verb tenses. She absorbs new phrases (literally, you see her mouth and entire face digest words…you can see vocabulary grow in her mind) at incredible rates.

But I did the same exercise with Monica this evening with the same result (except that it really bothered Monica…she grew frustrated at not remembering the words in Spanish).

I suspect that most words are new for 4 and 6 year old. You learn what you’re hearing in your immediate surroundings. And, with the exception of me, they’re not hearing much Spanish (the one major downside of living in Cincinnati, Ohio…oh how I sometimes miss Houston).

But I’m sad. Painful histories I’m praying they forget. Memories of poverty and hunger I want to disappear. Yet their loss of language, their beginning narrative (for that matter, our beginning narrative as a new family), that’s something I mourn…at least a little.

Renee and I have made the promise to help them get it back. At least some day. We tell them that some day we’ll go back to Colombia, maybe teach for a year or travel a summer. It’s a country and culture we’ve come to love. And we can’t wait to return.

In the meantime, they’re starting to sound like Americans.