The last time I decided to put myself through the joy of having homework was a bit more than a year ago when I freshly arrived in Ecuador without knowing a single word of Spanish. I became aware quite fast that Duolingo was cool enough to have conversations about a cat drinking milk – el gato bebe leche-, but it wouldn’t help me that much to ask for directions, and even start more intimate conversations with locals.
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.
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.