To Life, and Courage (and DuoLingo)

~ Kana Smith
“Pearls Before Swine” by Stephen Pastis
open doorway in a Mexican church

I never realized that John Steinbeck was a biologist. It’s not what he’s known for, certainly, and it’s not what he was educated for, but it’s what he did, for a time. Actually, with regard to education, he left even his English degree incomplete… not that its lack held him back from winning the Nobel—which is a testament to what’s actually important, in a writer:

He had things to say, and he said them well.

When I was working on my own degrees (also combining English & biology), I would tell you that a degree in Creative Writing was like a workman’s wooden box, well-crafted and polished. A lovely thing to have—but absolutely no use if you had nothing to put IN it. If you had nothing worthwhile to write about.

If you had no LIFE worth writing of.

sketch of coffee cup on a cafe table in Mexico

Steinbeck caught hold of the same thought from the other end, in his Log from the Sea of Cortez: “The true biologist deals with life, with teeming boisterous life, and learns something from it, learns that the first rule of life is living.”

bow of a "panga" boat in Mexico

The first rule of life is living.

That’s the first rule of writing, as well.

I started reading Steinbeck’s book—about a biology expedition-by-boat with his ecologist buddy—back in February, when we were headed, ourselves, to Loreto, in Baja California on the Sea of Cortez.

arch to the beach in Loreto, Mexico

I was setting the mood for myself, with my reading, but I didn’t get very far with it, then. I was concentrating my time instead on my DuoLingo Spanish lessons.

interior courtyard of a Mexican posada, or inn

Here’s the thing. I took six years of Spanish classes in high school and college, including an undergraduate semester of Literature in Spanish. I have a pretty good ear, and a pretty good accent. I have a pretty good vocabulary. I have pretty good grammar…. But.

(You knew there was a “but” coming, didn’t you?)

But. I have had absolutely no courage. For 35 years.

My mom has been learning Spanish on DuoLingo, and she has an impressive streak going, something like a thousand consecutive days of participating in her Spanish lessons. She inspired me, and last year I jumped back into language and tried out DuoLingo myself.

thatched beach hut with sailboats anchored behind

The structure is markedly different from those schoolyard Spanish classes. There’s less explaining, and more doing.

outline of the Loreto, Mexico police station roof

Classroom Spanish involved lots of diagrams and lengthy explanations. “These are all the subjunctive forms of this irregular verb”…

…and then we’d have to think-our-way-through whether this sentence required the subjunctive, and then which form of which verb we needed to use there, before we could deploy it.

I could do all that on a classroom exam, but my brain BROKE every time I found myself face to face with a human being who might want me to use it!

I absolutely froze up, every single time. For 35 years.

Even at times when I knew a person would be grateful for the help, and wouldn’t be judging my grammar—like the time I stood, silently, through an entire attempted conversation at an airport ticket counter. I knew perfectly well what the traveler was saying to the agent, and I’m sure I could have cobbled together the agent’s response, in turn… but I stood there while they floundered—stood in silent, flush-faced shame.

shrimp breakfast with coffee and beach behind
sketches from a journal page

DuoLingo, in contrast to the classroom, doesn’t spend much time explaining ABOUT the different verb forms for a situation. It shows you what to use, and puts you to work DOING it. And not just in writing, but also speaking, and listening. Over and over and over and suddenly you’re not thinking ABOUT the verb, you’re just USING it.

When we touched down in Mexico, I didn’t yet know if my several months’ study would break me out of all those years of brain freeze. I’d been practicing my ass off, and had even played Pride & Prejudice, twice through, in the Spanish audiobook (just slightly slower than regular speed). Would it all be enough?

The fellow at the car-rental counter was clearly ready for transactions in English, which heretofore would have been my cue to chicken out… but I gamely waded in, in Spanish. Practically bouncing up and down with silly pride in myself, because I was finally doing it! At one point he switched to English to address Jon, and then slipped back into Spanish, and I didn’t notice, for several beats. I wasn’t “translating into English” in my head—I was just understanding him. More bouncing up and down!

Mexican church tower against a sunset sky
humpback whale tail slapping the surface of the water

Soon enough we were in situations where we didn’t have the “escape hatch” of an English-speaker… And we were okay.

It was dark and late when Apple Maps lost us, on the way to our inn. I had to jump out of the car to ask directions (a thing I’ve always hated doing, even in English) from a couple waiters who were putting up their cafe’s outdoor chairs… but I was able to ask, and to understand where they told me to go. As the week progressed I ordered food, and shopped, and asked questions, and answered small talk.

I got to come up with sentences that had never been part of any prepackaged practice-dialogue. Such as: “I’m buying this gift for the friend who’s caring for my many cats.”

colorful tables and chairs at an outdoor Mexican cafe

On another day, having driven up the coastline to check out beaches, I asked a local gentleman if there were someplace nearby to buy towels, because we’d forgotten ours at the hotel. There wasn’t any shopping near, he answered, but we could borrow towels from him, and leave them on his porch when we’d had our swim.

In THAT moment, I felt I was Living. It wasn’t about the towels—those were incidental. It was about the goodwill inherent in his offer, an offer made because I’d had the respect (and—finally!-—the courage) to address him in his own language, in his own place. I walked into that warm saltwater with a grin almost wider than my face.

the author in Mexico

30 thoughts on “To Life, and Courage (and DuoLingo)”

  4. What a wonderful, inspiring mix of travel, language learning, and courage sprinkled with a well-deserved dose of biology. Love it! That’s the spirit, and I salute you for taking the step and enticing others to actually LIVE life. – Thank you so much for subscribing as well. I subscribed right back, and I look forward to reading more of your uplifting stories, reflections, and insights. 💐🙏

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  6. Yes, there’s always a ‘but’ , …tho’ you overcame it, …congrats, … From one who has never learned another language, and still finds herself in trouble with her own, 😉… ✨

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  9. Steinbeck hung out with Doc (Ed) Ricketts, a working marine biologist, on Cannery Row in Monterey. California. He co-authored “Sea of Cortez” with steinbeck and was the inspiration for ‘Doc” in “Cannery Row”. The building with Ricketts’ lab is still there, next to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which IIRC now owns it.

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  10. Well done! ¡Felicidades! I’m studying several languages with Duolingo, but I haven’t had much of a chance to try them out. I’m please it has worked for you. ♥

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    1. I’m impressed! Which languages are you studying? I’ve been thinking about attempting some French, and this time I’d be starting “from scratch” with DuoLingo, because all I know is “merci”! Do you find it difficult, learning more than one at once? I’m curious about your experience. :)

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  11. I learned English by living it, which, as I understand, DuoLingo imitates. I couldn’t even read street signs when I arrived in Australia, but by the end of the first year I passed every subject in high school. Throw in the deep end and swim is the way to learn a language. :)

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  13. Pingback: To Life, and Courage (and DuoLingo) – Kana’s Chronicles | Self Help (Personal Growth) Books

  14. Hi Kana, I can relate to your linguistic struggles. I’m a Scot, and I’ve lived in France for many years but still, just occasionally, usually when dealing with a telephone ‘Help’ line (often a total misnomer), I think I’ve gone stupid again.

    Love the Steinbeck quote – he’s an all-time favourite author – which is kinda like one of my thoughts to live by: Life is short, live wide.

    Great to meet you here, thanks for subscribing to Sound Bite Fiction.

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      1. For some reason I’ve always attributed that quote to Robert Heinlein but, when I tried to confirm it for inclusion in my fabulous book, Pingo (sorry, laughing here!) I couldn’t find any reference to it.

        You should try a ‘Help’ line in French from someone who hails from somewhere near Delhi, it’s not fun!

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