Rocket Scientista

Science as a Foreign Language December 1, 2010

The last few weeks have got me thinking. I’ve been feeling STUPID. Not just the usual “wow, I should know that” stupid, but a “I’m pretty sure I used to know that” dumb, combined with a complete lack of ability to process or remember anything new. I feel clueless. I was freaking out. In my over-anxious, over-stressed state, I came up with tons of explanations– I REALLY was that dumb, I had a brain tumor, I had another brain injury, I had an as-yet-undiagnosed learning disorder, everything.

 

But then I realized this isn’t the first time I’d felt like this.

 

My junior year of undergrad, I studied abroad. I had taken the language in high school, and for a few years in college. I loved the language and I loved the culture, so I decided to tack on a third major and use it as an excuse to study abroad for a year. I was excited. I did my homework about the university I was going to– I took courses in “scientific and engineering [language]“. I planned to take my physics courses there, in German, and have a lovely time.

 

And it was great. One of the best experiences I have ever had, and I wholeheartedly recommend studying abroad, ESPECIALLY to scientists. I saw different ways of pursuing research, coursework, and a completely different department lifestyle. It took some work and lots of pre- and post- approvals to make sure I stayed on track to graduate with my three majors in a reasonable amount of time.

And while it was worth it in the end, let’s just say that I had a rocky start.

I got on the plane, my belongings packed in a suitcase, thought I was headed for adventure. Oh, it was an adventure, alright. I thought because of my training, because of my knowledge, it would be a piece of cake. I figured it’d take a few weeks, or maybe a month, for me to get used to the dialect, and then I would be fluent and having lofty conversations about art, literature, and science. I would be brilliantly bilingual and my professors would be impressed by my abilities and inquisitiveness.

 
Boy was I wrong. No amount of language coursework can prepare you to be immersed in a foreign language 24/7. It’s difficult and EXTREMELY demanding. My brain was on constant overload. Nothing was easy. Adding to the demands of constant, brain-boiling translation was the insane culture shock. Making food for myself became difficult, shopping was stressful, and television became a chore. I became so overwhelmed so fast, that I forgot how much I knew coming in. It was like I lost all my language skills, all my ability to communicate, and I felt like an incapable two year old. It was miserable. It was just like now.

 
Eventually, after many battles, after total immersion, after stubbornly making myself communicate (no matter how dumb I sounded, I NEEDED TO PRACTICE), and after what seemed like way too long, it clicked. I started speaking confidently. I stopped translating and just spoke the language. I stopped worrying about minor trip ups, and they stopped happening. Almost magically, I suddenly became very proficient and then, near fluent. People mistook me for a native. And for the last few months of my time there, I pretty much was.

And it wasn’t until last week that I realized that science is like learning a second language. You can take all the classes you can in undergrad. You can take all the grad classes you want- but it’s nothing like being thrown into a research group, thrown into seminars, and being expected to ask intelligent questions and have extended discourse on the implications of the latest results (that you should be keeping up with, and understanding). It’s like being thrown into a foreign country, immersed in a foreign language. You go into shock.

 

And I’ve been in that state of shock for awhile. Just when I got comfortable with speaking physics, I moved to an astronomy department. DAMMIT. It’s like I forgot everything I ever learned. Sometimes, I talk about subjects like an undergrad. Sometimes, my brain is about to boil over from constantly chugging away translating. There’s just so much to think about, and so much to understand, that everything begins to lose meaning and I just want to run away crying and screaming.

 

But I haven’t. I’ve made myself ask the dumb questions, and practice. I’ve made myself to go office hours and talk like I’m two and don’t understand anything. It’s the only way I knew how to make myself get through it. And I’ve been hoping beyond all hope that soon, soon, soon, I would again be pretty proficient.

While realistically, I am not actually an idiot (I did get into grad school and have done pretty well thus far), this just feels so terrible. Again, I went abroad having studied the language for six years. I wasn’t a dummy. But when you’re put in that intense situation, you can’t help but feel like the tiniest fish in the biggest ocean.

Finally, it’s coming. I’m noticing I’m not translating as much. Sometimes the jargon floats off my tongue. Sometimes I make a really good point without realizing how good it is! And reading papers? Holy cow, it’s getting *so* much easier. Things seem to be sticking. I’m no longer feeling like I’m two. Maybe I’ll say I’m twelve? And each day, things get a bit easier.