Morjes!

Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

Magdalena's language acquisition

Human beings are born with the ability to discriminate between all the different phonemes (sounds) of any language on earth. As we get older - during infancy according to some, a bit later according to others - we lose that ability. The brain is an efficient language-learning machine, and it figures that if you aren't meaningfully exposed to a sound on a regular basis, you don't need to waste resources holding on to the ability to distinguish it from other similar sounds, much less produce it. So you end up with awkward Americans completely unable to trill their Rs, or Japanese people saying "supplies" instead of "surprise," and not knowing the difference.

Arabic is full of those nervous-sweat-inducing phonemes (for the native English speaker). There are two different H sounds, and two different T sounds, two different S sounds, and some sounds that are so weird I can't even compare them to anything that exists in English. With a lot of attention, practice, and imitation, some adult learners of Arabic as a foreign language learn to approximate these sounds well enough, perhaps even in a manner that approaches native-like production. But they'll always sound a little off, you know? Think of Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Henry Kissinger, or Antonio Banderas, or Anna Kournikova - they're obviously quite proficient in English but they produce some of the sounds in English in a way that is clearly not native.

But if you catch kids early enough, it's a different story. Magdalena is suddenly busting out some of those difficult Arabic sounds like a born native. To this linguist's ears, it's stunning. Our poor kids are always having their language analyzed (we have Google Docs for each of them to document the linguistically quirky things they say), so I couldn't help but prompt Magdalena to produce the letter ع.





She says it at 0:12-0:13, and again at 0:32-0:33. It sounds like a deep, strangled 'ah.' And I can't pronounce it anything like she does. Lucky girl, being taught Arabic at age 3. I have to admit, I'm jealous.


(The rest of the video is a bunch of Arabic songs, with Jeremy and Miriam pitching in to help, but they're a bit jumbled. She can't produce spontaneous language as well as she sings these memorized songs, but she sure enjoys singing them! Which reminds me - an Egyptian friend of mine in the MA program observed Magdalena's class as part of a project for Bilingual Education last semester. During Arabic class, my friend actually moved to the front of the room to see Magdalena better, because she could not believe her ears that this little blonde girl was busting out Arabic the way she was. She said it was one of the cutest things she's ever seen. What can I say? Magdalena is a very enthusiastic learner.)

March 16th, outsourced

How bizarre