Bubbles In the Brain

Despite her level of fluency, a student of mine was having a particularly tough day recalling English words. Like beach and diving. Ah, plage!, she exclaimed slapping her head. C'est dur, hein? I laughed in empathy. I can understand. My husband and I recently had some French friends over, a couple, who have been able to periodically witness my French grow from beginner to intermediate to...whatever it is now. Because I hadn't seen them since July I wanted to show them (or showoff) how much I had progressed but it was exactly this self-inflicted pressure that made me a bumbling idiot who couldn't remember the simplest words. So when my student said that she had "bubbles in the brain" (due to the diving she had done the day before) I understood exactly what she meant -- and took it a step further. When you're learning a language it's as though each word you learn is housed in a miniscule bubble that then floats around in your brain, jostling for space with previous word-bubbles; some burst and POP! it's gone, while others stay intact and make an appearance when you least expect it. I like those bubbles. And then, of course, some don't do anything at all but float and shift and squeeze their way into some unreachable corner of your brain where they retire in effervescent ecstasy. Okay, so I've admittedly taken this a bit too far. And visualizing the language-learning process as a colony of word-bubbles is odd, I know, but so is getting used to expressing yourself in another language. So until that happens -- if it ever happens -- I will proudly admit to my ongoing struggle with bubbles in the brain.