The Truth About Language Barriers

We're often asked the question, "What's it like living with a language barrier?" The answer to this has been different at various points over the last 4 years. Sometimes, it's barely noticeable. Other times, it produced frustration and deep set feelings of worthlessness.

As I was drinking coffee this morning, I was thinking about my different language barrier experiences and wondering if others could relate. I was also thinking about people who have never experienced a language barrier and are interested in traveling for the first time or going to the mission field. How do you prepare for a language barrier? How do you overcome a language barrier? How do you keep it from overwhelming you?

The first time I experienced a language barrier was in Colorado, circa 1998. My sister was studying Spanish and my mom wanted her to have more opportunities to speak. She also wanted us kids to be doing some type of local service for our community. We started going to a bilingual church once a week that had a food pantry. If I remember correctly, this church was somewhere down Colfax, and there was a classic McDonalds near it (which is really the only thing I can remember about the church's location!). 

After arriving at the church, we would go straight to the food pantry and start helping. My job was to hand food to the women who were packing boxes for people in need. There was always a long line of people, usually moms with a few kids who found themselves down and out and needed some help. We were blessed to give them literal bread, as well as offer them the Bread of Life (Jesus). 

Regardless of how special the ministry opportunity was, I remember being incredibly stressed every time we went to help at this church. My Spanish vocabulary was slim at best, so when a charismatic Latino woman would call out to me, "Necesito más pan!" my 10 year old self would just about pass out. I knew the words for bread, milk, and lettuce, and that was about it. So when she would ask me to bring her anything outside of my minuscule vocab list, I would be close to having a panic attack. Every time she asked for frijoles (beans) and I would bring her peas, she would sigh loudly, do a fast "Ay ay ay," and scurry across the room to grab actual frijoles. Then, she'd explain for the umpteenth time that beans and peas were not the same thing. But of course, this was in Spanish too, so I only understood what she was trying to say through her mannerisms, not not her actual words. She didn't speak any English at all. 

And I remember when my sister would come into the little food pantry. It was like the heavens opened and angels were singing, "Here she comes! Your translator!" Although my sister wasn't quite fluent in Spanish at this point, she was getting close. And she was always happy to translate for me and make my communication just a little easier for a few minutes. 

I actually dreaded going and helping this food pantry. The language barrier was just a little too much for my 10 year old self. I liked the ministry, I loved helping the people, but the anxiety caused from not being able to communicate was unbearable.

Little did I know, the rest of my life would be sprinkled with different languages, and a long lasting language barrier would be in the forefront of my adult calling. 

Yesterday, Byron and I met with a friend here in Zaporozhye. She is such a sweet woman - we absolutely love her. We had a great time having lunch at her apartment, meeting her extended family, and looking at her wedding photos. And she was so kind about the language barrier. She was happy to talk while we listened, and we'd chime in and say something whenever we could. But our understanding is far above our speaking abilities. After leaving her apartment and heading home, I really started to think about language barriers and why they are so difficult - not just for kids, but grown adults too!

I think it all comes down to being misunderstood (and on the flip side, misunderstanding!). As human beings, we greatly desire to be understood. And it starts from birth too. Babies cry because they need something, and they continue to cry until their mom or dad can understand what they need and give it to them. Pre-teens and teens also cry from being misunderstood, and that feeling of being misunderstood extends to feeling incredibly self-conscious. Adults fight about being misunderstood, desiring to be on the same page with their spouse or their children. And I'll admit, I cry sometimes too, because I so desperately want the people close to me to know what I actually think about something and to see my true character. 

I am slightly introverted, but I'm certainly not shy. However, when I'm in a group of people speaking Russian, all I can do is sit quietly and listen. Do I want to contribute to the conversation? Yes! I desperately want to contribute! I want to communicate! But usually, my contribution is either so messy grammatically, no one really understands what I'm saying. Or, I succeed in getting a statement out, only to discover the group hasn't been talking about what I thought they were talking about.

And this is the truth about language barriers - it makes you feel self-conscious. It makes you feel nervous and anxious and frustrated. It keeps you from feeling like people really, truly know the real you. And sometimes, it makes you cry, plain and simple. 

You might be thinking, where's the silver lining? It's true, there is a silver lining. There's always a silver lining. A language barrier might prevent you from communicating with words, but it does give you more room to connect to people on a spiritual, soul to soul level. 

I remember being with one dear friend here in Zaporozhye. She was really upset and crying, and I was pretty sure I understood what she was crying about, but I wasn't positive. Regardless of not knowing what exactly happened, I was still able to be there for her, to hold her hand, and to let her cry on my shoulder (literally!). And when my words failed me, which they always do when I'm speaking Russian, I was able to turn to the Bible. Her Russian Bible is the same as my English Bible. So, instead of speaking to her with my words, I just turned to different Bible passages and had her read them. Looking back, this was a really special time for me. Maybe I would have given her the wrong advice if I was able to speak, or I would have given her worldly comfort. But instead, the Lord took me out of the equation completely, and all I could communicate with was the Bible. That's actually pretty cool!

2 Corinthians 12:9

I've also learned how to serve people in a more "behind the scenes" way. Back in Colorado, my voice was a HUGE part of my service. From talking with people and offering counseling, to leading worship. But here, the things that I'm gifted with in English aren't things I'm capable of doing in Russian. But, I can do other things. I can play with kids so parents can fellowship after service on Sundays. I can clean and vacuum so others can focus more on praying for one another. And I can sing quieter during worship, not just so my accent doesn't disturb the people around me, but so that I can be sure my song really is just for the Lord - that I'm only singing for Him. 

This side of heaven, I may never be able to fully communicate in Russian. But, as I serve the God who transcends all language and understanding, I can be confident that He will accomplish everything He desires. I'm blessed to be His vessel, still faithfully studying Russian, but trusting that He will provide the increase.

Blessings,

Emily