THE TASTE OF SAND
Even though I’m sitting in front of my breakfast, my tea getting cold, my feet all so curled up, freezing, on the tiled floor, that’s the taste of sand coming back before anything else when I launch the Spanish app on my phone.
THE INNER MESS OF BEING BILINGUAL (or at least trying to.)
Really soon, I started to think in English and dream in English. Not all the time, even sometimes my head was mixing up both languages, in a very specific fluent and neat way, and yet very understandable. My inner voice integrated this new language quite naturally. And hearing it everywhere all around me, every day, and sometimes continuously (meaning without any French interruption for a while) brought my inner voice(s) to speak to me in English. It could have seemed such a hullabaloo from the outside, but those voices kind of established themselves very naturally, without any confusion.
