“The closer you get to proficiency, the more frequently you’re viewed as ‘rude,’ if you’re not careful.”
Today I’d like to write about a phenomenon regarding cultural norms that I have noticed as I’ve traveled around Latin America. To be perfectly clear, I do not believe this phenomenon is particular to Latin America in the slightest, but being as Latin America is the only cultural sphere I’ve traveled to outside of my own country, Latin America is the reference I will use to describe it. I do have a brief touchpoint about the Japanese that I’ll get to at the end.
Background#
For a bit of background, I am a man of Hispano-American descent; that said, I only achieved fluency in Spanish as a young adult. I was born and raised in the United States of America, and grew up speaking English. Before 2020, my mastery of spoken Spanish was limited to hello, goodbye, directions, small numbers, and not much else. I was exposed here and there to Spanish at home and via extended family, and certainly understood a bit more than I could speak, but I never made an effort to practice or study seriously over a significant length of time. That is, I hadn’t – then the COVID pandemic happened. I suddenly gained a lot of free time during its early stages, the “lockdown,” and I picked up studying in earnest.
Relatedly, during my quest to meet Spanish-speaking friends some months into my study, I met a native Spanish-speaking woman and fell in love with her. This coincidentally afforded me plenty of wonderful opportunities to practice and learn over a period of years as our romantic relationship began, continued, and ended. I have thus expanded my vocabulary and dexterity just a tad – a couple of native Colombian friends at lunch recently estimated my fluency at a B2 level, if we ignore the fact that I often mess up (or ignore) the gender of nouns.
So, all that being the case, I have run the gamut of “broken, awkward, slow communication” to “conversational fluence” as an adult. All stages have been enjoyable, but as I’ve progressed, I’ve noticed a curious, unexpected aspect to my growing ability in Spanish when speaking with native Spanish speakers in their home territories. I’ve been blessed with several opportunities to travel to and spend significant time in Mexico, Colombia, and Puerto Rico and have felt this phenomenon in each place.
The Phenomenon#
Now, onto the phenomenon: when you are just starting out learning a language, people who are native to that language tend to give you a long leash in terms of nonverbal customs, gestures, and unspoken “rules” of interaction. They know you don’t speak the language, and typically assume that if you transgress a particular expected social behavior, it is related to you being “not from around here” rather than “anti-social.” These expected gestures include but are not limited to: smiling, standing up, sitting down, what reaction to make when you try a food you like, when to offer a joke, who to hug and whose hand to shake, what to say when holding the door open, how to properly take leave of a party, what kind of topics to chat about in an elevator, whether to speak in an elevator at all. Et cetera, et cetera.
As you become closer and closer to them in terms of verbal fluency in their language, the native speaker will unconsciously begin to expect that you behave in manners consistent with what they expect out of a social interaction. If your own native culture differs in a certain social expectation or custom in response to a situation, your natural reaction will catch them off guard, as they unconsciously stop viewing you as a total “newbie,” and perceive that you should theoretically know what to do. Your not doing what is expected is more often viewed as deliberate choice (with attached social meaning), rather than difference of native custom.
An Example#
Take, for example, saying goodbye at a party in a foreign country, with fifteen people in attendance, dispersed throughout a large property with a house and a yard. You have met two of them before this event in passing, and one other person is a good friend. You all ate a meal together. How would you approach leaving? Your natural, unconscious reaction, informed by your own upbringing in your culture, might be to say goodbye to your close friend, and anyone you happen to see on your way out. This may differ from the native custom significantly, as they expect you to say goodbye to each person you met and shared a meal with, perhaps with a handshake, a hug and a kiss on the cheek, or at least some clear acknowledgement of each person.
A person who followed their natural reaction and is “bad” at the verbal language will be forgiven or excused for this perceived faux-pas much more readily than someone who has no problem conversing verbally. The new Spanish speaker is just “an American,” whereas the more proficient Spanish speaker must not have liked the people he didn’t say bye to, or is maybe a bit rude. I believe this is all happening at a subconscious level; the native speakers don’t mean to judge the foreigner, they just don’t see you as an outsider quite as much, as you have been conversing with them in their language, so they interpret your actions as they would any of their acquaintances.
Stated Succinctly#
I will attempt to summarize the whole idea in one sentence, here:
If a language learner improves in verbal proficiency but not commensurately in related nonverbal cultural proficiency, they will be unconsciously viewed as more of an “oddball” by native speakers in their native context than if the learner had never achieved significant verbal proficiency in the first place.
Physical Appearance#
Note that I also believe the effect is significantly more pronounced the more physically similar one looks to a typical native speaker. I think this is obvious – if you look like a native and speak more or less like a native, you should surely act like a native, no? I am half-Colombian and fully Hispanic Caribbean by blood – the average Colombian passing me on the street will, I think, presume me to be from there, even if I have a weird accent, dress a bit atypically, or mess up a few words, versus, say, if I were physically Norwegian, Vietnamese, or Kenyan.
Recently#
Although I’ve long had an inkling of this reality, I noticed it more in my most recent months living in Colombia than my previous excursions to Colombia or the rest of Latin America. Although I am better than I ever have been at communicating in Spanish, I felt like I was constantly running into unspoken behaviors that were expected that I did not meet, and thus viewed with mild confusion by my fellows. It is quite a funny feeling. I did not find it particularly stressful or bothersome, it just caused me to be more aware of my own presuppositions of how I and people who were raised around me tend to interact with each other and the world. I am certain I have many built-in expectations, and that I’ve absolutely been on the other end of this same dance with the many non-native English speakers I’ve met and spoken English with in the United States over the course of my life.
Wrapping Up#
I have searched for a formal name or description put forth by others for this phenomenon – I haven’t found it yet. If anyone knows, please let me know. I do recall seeing it described in action elsewhere, in a brief anecdote in a social media comment some time ago, I want to say. It was about the Japanese and their treatment of foreigners based on their perceived fluency level, and I instantly connected it to my own experience. This makes me think the phenomenon is truly cross-cultural.
In the absence of an existing name (as far as I am aware), I propose the name “The Language Learner’s Paradox.” Pretty catchy, no? …No? Well, I tried. :o)
Thanks for reading!
Alex