18 February 2009

några tankar

SOME THOUGHTS. No, not in Swedish. I just felt like having a Swedish title. Because I'm actually sort of trying to learn Swedish. I tell myself I have to, and it feels like a chore, and then I wonder if I really have to learn it, because I wonder if the purpose for which I am learning it is really worth pursuing after all. But then, I just thought, if I don't seriously learn to read Swedish, or at least enough to get by reasonably well with a dictionary, I will have seriously to learn to read German, there will be no escaping it; I feel like if I learn Swedish I might be able to get by not actually learning German. But in the end I will probably have to learn both, and I'll probably have to have to learn German better than Swedish. Or at least I will have to use it more often. Because there's just one thing really that I need to learn Swedish for, and perhaps some references from that one thing. I don't have any plans to go to Sweden, though I love it there. If I went back to Sweden, I'd want to see the north and the west, the mountains of Jämtland near Norway. I suppose learning Swedish will set me well on the road to killing at least 3, maybe 4 or even 5 birds with one stone, as Danish and Norwegian won't be far off if I have Swedish, and if I manage to dance in Danish and/or especially Norwegian then my Icelandic will improve, and hey, if I ever really wanted to try out Faroese I guess I could. So Swedish it is. But then there's still German. Academic German no less. I can ignore that question for now, though it will haunt me like an owl soon enough.

I am a xenophile. Perhaps unhealthily. I ignore myself and my own heritage in order to pursue a knowledge of others' histories and cultures and languages. Learning Swedish et al. does not fall under this rubric however. Learning those Northern Germanic languages is a chore, whether I enjoy the process or not. Perhaps I will, but maybe I won't go to that Swedish conversation group on Friday. We shall see. My xenophilia is manifest in my odd love of all things Finnish, and most things Estonian. Ingrian? Sure! Karelian? Why not? Hungarian, perhaps. I don't know what it is about Uralic languages, and especially the Finno-Ugric ones, but I have a thing for them. I have a thing for them real bad. It seems irrational even. I don't know why I do. Apparently I started getting interested in Finnish when I found out Quenya was based on it--why learn a useless elvish language when I could learn a real one that sounds just as nice or even better. I must admit, Finnish is very aesthetically pleasing to my little North American ears. I could I suppose try to learn Saanich or Halkomelem or something closer to home, but I think by the time I learned enough to get by even in the very slightest, all the speakers of those languages would be dead. Such is the fate of the Salish languages and all their deliciousnesses. I will stick to the Finno-Ugric then. Though I doubt I will really ever learn any. What I need to do is move to Finland. I quite liked Helsinki when I was there. It seems a very liveable city. Unfortunately my current and future circumstances won't likely allow me to get there.

It is Estonian independence day on Tuesday the 24th of February. That day is also Shrove Tuesday. I very much want to run around the university with my massive Estonian flag draped across my shoulders, and eat pancakes for dinner. Knowing me, it will likely not happen, because first of all, I am not the best at making pancakes, though that would be an excuse for having my Canadian maple syrup . . . and secondly, I am too much of a snail to actually run around draped in the Estonian flag. Heaven forbid I actually run into an Estonian. What would I say? Hum, yes, I have a strange obsession with your country. 'Ilus on maa'--I think it's beautiful and lovely and your language is very nice too. How nice that you have a 'Singing Revolution' in your history. Perhaps I will just pack the flag away in my bag and whip it out in front of unsuspecting friends and start singing the anthem. Oh yes, I could do that.

Are you still reading? You actually find this interesting? Or is it just giving you a good laugh? Are you worried about my sanity? You probably should be. I sat down to write some thoughts, and what have I come up with? Xenophilia and language learning as chore. I am also a very guilty person I am finding. If I'm not doing what I deem important work, or work that matters, I feel guilty. I do this to the point of not giving myself proper breaks and consequently running myself into the ground, until I feel like I no longer care for what I am studying. Right now I am there. Does it really matter? Probably not. And that is what I am finding a very difficult lesson to learn right now. I have to do something, because everyone has to do something. But in the end it probably all doesn't really matter or mean anything. And I probably won't like it either. I'm not sure I like it right now. But I can't start all over again. I would call myself a failure if I did, and then I'd just be miserable doing something else after four or so years of it. I could keep bees, but that would involve settling somewhere, and I don't want to settle somewhere alone. Here it comes. The question I keep coming back to whenever I sit down and think things.

I have too many things to think. I think too many things. It keeps me from sleeping. It causes me to dream dreams. The world is ending and all must praise the LORD. I am afraid.

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