Some nights I lie awake in bed speaking to myself in Armenian. It’s been incredibly painful realizing that slowly, I’m truly forgetting what was my first language. However, during my pre-slumber exercises I’m also discovering that if I focus for long enough, the words just come to me as I coerce them out of my muscle memory. What a wonderful thing that is, muscle memory; it’s all there, just buried behind my active vocabulary.
My education in Armenian came to a halt at 1st grade when I switched from my private Armenian school to a public American one (apparently I even spoke english with an accent). Thus, my vocabulary and reading skills are from my education up until that point. I of course still spoke it at home, but over the years that has also become more of a rarity- thank goodness for my grandmothers who insist on always speaking it with me, not because they can’t speak english, but why should they?
I’m always delightfully surprised by the fact that I can still read, though very, very slowly. The above page is from my childhood school books I’ve managed to hang onto. This piece is aptly titled “The Elephant” with the first paragraph reading:
“The elephant is a very well behaved animal; he helps his owner. He carries wood and takes water.”
I’m pretty sure I was around 5 or 6 when I was given such titillating reading material, and I still get super excited when I get through a sentence…probably for the same reason as back then: I can read!
So take that memory and a tongue that is having a hard time rolling out the appropriate accent. I will reclaim my knowledge…and maybe take a class.
