Despite obstacles, non-Latvian parents succeed at language

When we think about Latvian language education, we usually think about the network of Saturday or Sunday schools for children of Latvian descent living abroad. But there are also many adults learning Latvian, mostly the non-Latvian parents of those children.

Some non-Latvian parents are very devoted to learning the language, while others are content to learn only a few key phrases. Some are lucky enough to find teachers, but most are trying to learn the language in unstructured environments, which usually means just picking it up from the Latvian spouse at home. Both methods, but especially the unstructured kind, require great motivation on the part of both the learner and the teacher. A bit of linguistic talent helps, too, as does the proximity and openness of an active, local Latvian community.

What follows are a few short portraits of American adults learning Latvian. You probably know people like them, and hopefully their stories will provide encouragement to others in their shoes.

Portraits of Latvian learners

Robert Franklin began learning Latvian at age 24, when he first met the woman who later became his wife. Their whole marriage of 40-plus years has taken place in Latvian. He refused to speak English with a me, even though it would probably be easier for him to express certain thoughts in his first language.

“I say ‘Es nesaprotu’ (I don’t understand) if a Latvian speaks English with me,” he explained with a smile. Many Latvians who do not know Franklin are surprised to find out that he is not Latvian, because he speaks the language so well and has been a part of the community for so long. He recounts a conversation (which took place completely in Latvian), in which his grandson called him a half-Latvian.

“Why do you call me half-Latvian?” Franklin asked him.

“Language,” replied the boy.

Franklin learned Latvian just by listening to and talking with people—no books or courses. He did so he could speak to his children in Latvian.

“And because language is very important,” he added. “Language is a gift, and if we have a gift and do not pass it on to our children, that is a sin.”

He continued: “Children who speak more languages are smarter, and besides, Latvian and Lithuanian are very old and interesting languages.”

According to Franklin, language is the key to a culture. Latvians often wonder why he wanted to learn and use the language, he said, but other than that he has always felt very welcomed by the Latvian community.

Amber Pone spent nine months in Latvia soon after marrying a Latvian-American, and the experience was not always pleasant. But she did take formal language lessons while there, and now—four years and a toddler later—she is still able to take part in simple Latvian conversations. She said she finds prepositions and their corresponding cases to be one of the more difficult aspects of the language to learn. Also, it’s difficult for her to remember to always stress the first syllable in Latvian.

Pone lives in a state with hardly any other Latvians. But when she visits her in-laws, they keep her on her toes regarding language use. She said she finds, though, that her concentration quickly wanes and it is hard to follow a whole conversation in Latvian.

Andrew Ostman has always felt accepted by the Latvian community, he said, but finds that recent immigrants from Latvia become frustrated with him more quickly and switch to English sooner when speaking with him. Trimdinieki (World War II exiles and their descendants), he said, seem to have more patience with him and are more likely to encourage him and push him to speak Latvian—those in the Midwest U.S. even more so than those on the East Coast. They are more willing to rephrase a sentence that he has not understood, don’t mind taking the time to speak slowly, and in general seem more interested in speaking Latvian.

Ostman’s main teacher was his fiancée, who is now his wife. In school he studied both ancient and modern Greek, as well as French and German, so learning a fifth foreign language—even one with seven cases and a pretty awful verb system—did not daunt him. For him it’s harder to learn new vocabulary than the grammar of the language. The key, Ostman said, is constant practice. But although his 3-year-old son speaks beautiful Latvian, Ostman admitted that he and his wife now speak almost no Latvian with each other. Call it “real life.”

Tom Jātnieks said he was shocked when his son corrected his Latvian grammar for the first time—at the tender age of three. But he did not let that deter him, and for many years following he spoke only Latvian with his children.

However, it frustrates him, he said, that he wasn’t able to pass a learning plateau (in grammar, vocabulary and comprehension) that would allow him to take part in “real, intelligent, adult” conversations. Now that the children are at or nearing the pre-teen age, he said he finds it difficult or even impossible to hold whole conversations in Latvian due to his limited knowledge of the language, and so often switches to English.

Jātnieks stressed that fluent speakers of Latvian should not give up so quickly when speaking Latvian with someone like him. They should not switch to English so soon, but instead simplify their speech at the beginning of the conversation to test the waters, so to say, and then gradually work up to normal speaking speed in Latvian. It’s most difficult, though, for the people he’s known his whole life and who always used to speak English with him—for example, his own father (Jātnieks is half Latvian, but did not learn Latvian as a child). Now he would like for them to speak to him in Latvian, he said, but linguistic habits are hard to break.

Because his first-grader son, Kevin Johnson said, is refusing to speak Latvian, he is now finally starting to take learning Latvian more seriously. Johnson has begun listening to a Latvian cassette series while driving in the car. But his three children are used to speaking English with him, and that habit is making real-life language practice difficult.

Jane Straumanis said her husband has been very patient with her desire to learn Latvian, and she considers him her greatest asset in the endeavor. Compared with the Spanish and Norwegian she once studied, she said she believes all aspects of Latvian are very difficult to learn. Most of what she has learned has been chiseled into her mind through tedious memorization, copious repetition of whole phrases, and listening to language tapes over and over again.

Straumanis said she feels that the Latvian-American community has been welcoming, gracious, supportive and kind to her. But it wasn’t so at first. She sometimes finds Latvian-Americans very challenging and not always welcoming of outsiders, Straumanis said. Although it’s still not an easy place to be, things are different now and she finally—after 15 or so years—feels a part of the community. She said she appreciates that Latvians have a strong culture and strong expectations.

What Straumanis finds troubling, however, is the local Latvian school and its attitude towards children who are not fluent in Latvian (for instance, her daughters were given only one line apiece in Latvian school plays during four years of school attendance). Many families from her family’s peer group ended up eventually leaving the school. Straumanis said she thinks that what the community still needs is to create a larger place and role for non-Latvians, open to all who are interested in the culture, regardless of language.

The ultimate motivator

Of the non-Latvians I’ve met, the majority have learned Latvian from their fiancés or spouses. Love is the ultimate motivator, I guess. Problems arise, though, if the Latvian partner is not equally interested in teaching the language. Even if he or she is interested and motivated, just being able to speak a language does not necessarily mean that that person is able to teach it to another, since not everyone is a teacher by nature.

In addition, a relationship’s honeymoon stage inevitably wears off, “real life” eventually takes precedence over language teaching, and—like it or not—discussing family finances turns out to be much easier in English than it is in third grade level Latvian.

But despite the odds, the above people prove that it is possible to acquire at least a usable grasp of the language. So think about the courageous adults learning Latvian around you. Ask them how it’s going, commend and encourage them, ask how you can help, and accept them into your circle.

Kanādas latviete studē Stradiņos

Cik Jūlija Giforda (Gifford) zina, viņa pašlaik ir vienīgā ārzemju latviete, kas pilnu laiku studē kādā Latvijas universitātē tieši latviešu programmā. Bet pēc Jūlijas domām, šis ir tikai viļņa sākums, un drīz viņas pēdās sekos arī citi ārzemju latviešu jaunieši.

Giforda uzauga Toronto apkārtnē divvalodīgā ģimenē (māte latviete, tēvs anglis) un mācījās franču valodas iegremdēšanas skolā. Pēc vidusskolas beigšanas viņa nolēma, ka grib “kaut ko citu” darīt, nekā turpināt savu izglītību turpat Kanādas universitātēs, un izlēma iestāties universitātē Latvijā. Viņa tagad otro gadu studē Rīgas Stradiņa universitātē uz bakalaura grādu starptautiskās attiecībās. Studijas ilgs trīs gadus.

Stradiņa universitātē studē gan daudz ārzemnieku, bet tie visi mācās angļu valodas nodaļās un lielākoties medicīnu vai zobārstniecību. Latviešu valodas nodaļā Giforda patiešām ir vienīgā ārzemniece, ja neskaita dažus šogad pienākušos Erasmus programmas izmaiņas studentus no Rietumeiropas.

Giforda ir bijusi tāda kā celmlauze, un celmi viņas ceļā nav bijuši nekādi mazie. Zinot, ka Ziemeļamerikā vidusskolas beidzēji jau laikus sāk plānot kur tālāk studēt, tā Giforda arī laikus sākusi interesēties par universitātēm Latvijā. Beidzot izvēlējusies pieteikties Stradiņos, bet neviens nav varējis viņai dot skaidru atbildi par pieteikšanās procesu, jo viņiem nekad agrāk nebija bijis tāds gadījums, ka ārzemnieks grib pieteikties kā pilna laika students uz latviešu nodaļu. Pēc vairākiem zvaniem Giforda beidzot dabūjusi rokā Eiropas studiju programmas vadītāju, un tas viņai tikai pateicis, lai viņa tik atbraucot uz Latviju, un tad visu varēšot nokārtot.
 
Latvijā universitāšu iestājeksāmeni—un līdz ar tiem oficiālā pieteikšanās skolai—notiek vasarā, tikai pāris mēnešus pirms mācību sākuma septembrī. Studenti uzzina vai ir skolā pieņemti apmēram mēnesi pirms mācības sākas. Pieteikšanās dokumenti jāiesniedz personiski, un pēc tam visiem pretendentiem jāliek iestājeksāmens, arī personiski un precīzi noteiktajā datumā. Latvijas universitātes nepazīst pieteikšanos vai eksāmenu likšanu pa pastu pēc tālmācību parauga vai pirms noteiktā datuma. Gifordai nekas cits neatlika kā doties uz Rīgu, lai arī dārgais ceļš bija bez garantijām.

Eksāmena darbinieki pateica Gifordai, lai viņa eksāmenam mazliet pamācās Latvijas, Eiropas un pasaules politiku un vēsturi, un “viss būs kārtībā”. Bet pēc Gifordas domām iestājeksāmens bija ļoti grūts. Laimīgā kārtā viņa daudzas atbildes pareizi uzminējusi. Eksāmenā bijis arī esejas jautājums, kas viņai šķiet, bija izšķirošais viņas pieņemšanā studijās. Atlika tikai kārtot uzturēšanas atļauju, jo Gifordai nav Latvijas pilsonības.

Tomēr neviens universitātē neesot varējis viņai pateikt tieši kas jādara, lai dabūtu uzturēšanas atļauju. Vēlāk izrādījās, ka Stradiņu universitātē strādā gan viena sieviete, kas nodarbojas tieši ar ārzemju studentu uzturēšanās atļauju kārtošanu, bet tikai tiem, kas mācās angļu nodaļās. Beigās viss veiksmīgi nokārtojies.

Lai arī Giforda jau no bērnības mācēja lasīt, rakstīt un tekoši runāt latviski, viņai sākumā bija grūti pierast pie lasīšanas un rakstīšanas akadēmiskajā līmenī. Kursabiedri teikuši, ka viņas rakstītajos sacerējumos vārdi visi esot pareizi, bet tie smējušies par noformējumu. Tagad viņa pie visa ir pieradusi, bet rakstīšanas stils viņai vēl nedaudz atšķiras no pārējiem kursabiedriem. Viņasprāt, gan, Kanādas pieredze viņai nākusi par labu, piemēram, loģiskā rakstisko domu sakārtošanā (ievads, galvenā daļa, secinājumi, nobeigums).

Giforda pavada tikai vienu līdz trim stundām dienā lekcijās vai semināros, bet ārkārtīgi daudz laika mājās pie datora, jo viņas programmā studentiem liek rakstīt sacerējumu par katru notikušo nodarbību. Tajā ziņā viņai Rīgas Stradiņa universitāte liekas stingrāka un vairāk strukturēta nekā Kanādas universitātes, kur vairāk valdot studentu pašiniciatīva. Latvijas universitāte, gan, esot līdzīgāka Kanādas universitātēm.

Lai izvēdinātu galvu un tiktu prom no datora, Giforda sākusi dejot tautas deju ansamblī “Līgo”. Mēģinājumi notiek divreiz nedēļā. Giforda draudzējas galvenokārt ar “Līgo” dejotājiem un saviem kursabiedriem, bet viņa pavada arī diezgan daudz laika ar ārzemju latviešu draugiem. Ar tiem bieži esot vieglāk saprasties, jo viņi visi ir līdzīgā situācijā: atgriezušies tēvzemē, bet tomēr ārzemnieki. Jūlija nekad nav dzīvojusi Latvijas studentu kopmītnēs — radi neļāva, jo tur notiekot pa daudz liela ballēšanās un ne pietiekami mācīšanās. Tā nu viņa no sākuma dzīvoja pie radiem un tagad dzīvo pati uz savu roku atsevišķā dzīvoklī ar draudzeni. Giforda mazliet piepelnās pasniedzot angļu valodas privātstundas.

Citiem ārzemju latviešu jauniešiem, kas domā par studēšanu Latvijā, Giforda saka, “Nebaidies! Tas nav nesasniedzams mērķis, un iespēju ir daudz!” Bet ir jābūt ļoti neatlaidīgam. Visgrūtākais ir vienkārši atrast un saņemt informāciju. Pašam jāzvana un pašam jāmeklē, un skolu darbinieki nav vienmēr tik pretimnākoši vai izpalīdzīgi kā gribētos. Bet vismaz Stradiņu universitātē šis ceļš tagad ir vairāk vai mazāk iebraukts. Atliek tikai citiem sekot un to izlīdzināt.

Rīgas Stradiņa universitāte

Rīgas Stradiņa universitātē mācās vairāki ārzemju studenti, ieskaitot Kanādas latviete Jūlija Giforda. (Foto: Andris Straumanis)

Šovasar mācies Latvijā!

Starptautiskā Baltijas vasaras skola (Baltic International Summer School jeb BISS) ir Vidzemes Augstskolas vasaras tradīcija, kas aizsākta 1999.gadā. Līdz šim to jau apmeklējuši 347 studenti no 54 pasaules valstīm. Daudziem tās dalībniekiem vasaras skolā gūtā pieredze pāraugusi dziļā interesē par Baltijas valstīm un Latviju.

2009. gadā pēc kārtas jau 11. Baltijas vasaras skola norisināsies Valmierā no 2009. gada 1. līdz 19. jūlijam. Tā būs veltīta starpkultūru komunikācijai, tāpēc vasaras skolai izvēlēts nosaukums “Austrumi, mēs, rietumi: meklējot līdzīgo un atšķirīgo Eiropas valstu kultūrās”. Angliski tas skan tā: “Stories from a country in between: spotting the cultural differences and similarities in Europe”.

BISS dalībniekiem tiek piedāvāti arī dažādi izklaidējoši izglītojoši pasākumi kā Baltijas filmu vakars, folkloras pēcpusdiena, sporta aktivitātes un ekskursijas gan uz Vidzemes skaistākajām vietām, gan galvaspilsētu Rīgu, un šīs vasaras skolas laikā arī uz pārējo Baltijas valstu pilsētām. Vasaras skolas beigās dalībnieki saņem sertifikātus, un iegūtie kredītpunkti ir derīgi arī viņu universitātēs. Dalībniekiem ir pieejamas dažādas stipendijas no Vidzemes Augstskolas, LR Izglītības un zinātnes ministrijas u.c.

Maksa par vasaras skolu ir EUR 850 (LVL 600), un pieteikties var līdz 15. maijam. Lai saņemtu vairāk informāciju un lai pieteiktos, lūdzam apmeklēt BISS mājas lapu biss.va.lv.