In preparation for our Stockholm summer sojourn, I had been doing a little language preparation via Duolingo, an app about which I have qualms, but which sufficed to gamify me into learning basic dialogue. Touching down at Arlanda in the usual fog of overnight Transatlantic travel, I began reciting the various inane phrases I had been taught in preparation for my first interaction with a Swede. The one mantra I had been repeating to myself since beginning my study was, despite my penchant for the Muppets, not to default into sounding like the Swedish Chef, which was likely an offensive stereotype I wished to avoid.
Making our way to our accommodation in an ominous downpour, we had a bit of trouble with the lockbox holding our key. Fortuitously, a neighbor happened by, saw us soaking and in minor distress, and came to our aid. He was a super friendly gem, got us all sorted out with a quick phone call, and, to his surprise coming from someone who is so obviously American, thanked him in his native tongue with a tack så mycket that I hoped came out correctly. He applauded my effort, said my pronunciation was pretty good (win!), and wished us what I think meant good day. The problem with learning only basic language is that when you speak it, people tend to reply in a quick stream that is usually incomprehensible to a neophyte like me.
The next morning, on the hunt for coffee and cardamom buns, I ambled into a quaint bageri staffed by a charming proprietress. In my halting way, I made my order and, after quickly exhausting the limit of my Swedish, we fell into a conversation about what I was doing in the neighborhood. While I was the one thankful for her kindness, she expressed gratitude that I had tried to speak in her language, a rarity, especially for Yanks. The same held true for the cashier at the local market, an older gentleman who thanked me for thanking him in Swedish, a meta appreciation loop. He too was shocked that I would deign to depart from English, despite the fact that every Swede I have met to date has better skills in that language than most of my countryfolk.
It is unnerving to attempt to speak to someone in a foreign language. Even in France, where my speaking ability is at least moderate, I sometimes flop sweat when faced with a complicated conversation. And this happens even though I am old enough to not really care about what strangers think of my suaveness, or lack thereof. But even minorly essaying to remember key phrases like “please” and “thank you” is one of the politest gestures that a visitor can undertake. I am a guest in whatever country I visit, seeking to be welcomed, and it is distinctly grating and presumptuous to assume, despite most of the world’s command of English, that the citizenry will adapt to me instead of the other way around.
We fear that the native population will ridicule and shun us, but I have found, across my travels, that most humans are gracious and patient. The French get a bad rap in this department, but I have found them, like other nationalities, to be ready and willing to help someone that is trying their best. With those buoying experiences, I have become much more comfortable asking directly: “what is the best way to say this?” Learning from a native speaker on their home turf is a far superior way to educate oneself, especially in learning modern vernacular – Duolingo and Google Translate and the like are mid at best at contextual dialogue and are useless when it comes to the slang that will really ingratiate you with the local populace.
I have no illusions that I will become proficiently conversant in Swedish, nor that I will be welcomed into the inner sanctum that such an expertise would unlock. The primary motivation for learning a bit of the vernacular is courtesy. However, I can tell you from experience that overcoming the fear and making the effort to speak to someone in their own language can lead to fortuitous outcomes – arcane restaurant recommendations, invitations to concerts, and the types of experiences that no guidebook will show you. As I navigate the literal and figurative waters of the Stockholm archipelago, I eagerly await the adventures ahead, linguistic and otherwise.