Don’t tell me I can’t… learn a language in my 40s
Angela Sammon admits it’s been a challenge – but it’s one she’s relishing
With my pens and pencils lined up on the table, I open my textbook and get to work trying to fathom out the grammatical equation in front of me. It’s a tricky one, but my teacher seems happy with my answer and, as the class comes to an end, I can’t help but feel proud. You see, aged 43, I’d never envisaged I’d be learning a new language from scratch…
Growing up, it was compulsory to take French classes at school. And while I got B grades, I was never really that interested in the subject. After graduating, I went to university to study English and history.
But, just because I didn’t have a natural aptitude for languages, it didn’t mean I didn’t want to see the world. I spent three months travelling around South America – picking up very, very, basic Spanish as I did. And, after meeting my husband, Dan, in 2004, we enjoyed exotic holidays to South Africa and Cuba. I always made a point of knowing how to say please and thank you in whatever country we were in, but I failed to master much more.
Then, in February 2006, my sister, Mary, bought a house in the region of Istria in Croatia. She’d been looking for a little bolthole and when I went out to visit her that September, I could see why she’d chosen it – it was so peaceful and laid-back.
I went back every couple of years to stay. Dan would come too and we’d all have a great time going on walks and eating delicious food. But then, in December 2011, after battling breast cancer, my sister passed away. I was heartbroken.
In the months that followed, as I tried to come to terms with my grief, we discovered that Mary had left the house in Croatia to the family. My other siblings and I all agreed that we couldn’t bear to part with it – it held too many memories.
So, from then on, I’d go back a few times a year. It was one of my favourite places to be. But as the locals came to know me, I longed to be able to communicate properly – being a rural town, not many people spoke English, and I only knew about five words of Croatian.
I couldn’t understand road signs, had to point at things I wanted to buy and, unable to read restaurant menus, I’d just guess and hope for the best!
Back home in London, I tried to read language books, but every time I went to Croatia, I’d forget what I’d learnt. ‘This is ridiculous,’ I told Dan one evening in October 2016. ‘I’m going to take classes.’
After researching online, I found a beginner’s course at the Croatian Language School, just 30 minutes from my home. At £18 a lesson, I decided to sign up.
The following week, it felt strange being back in class. The 90 minutes flew by, but although it was tough, I left feeling a sense of achievement.
However, I quickly discovered that old habits are hard to give up – despite being in my forties, I still left my homework to the very last minute! But, genuinely wanting to learn meant that when I did apply myself, I got a lot more out of it. And, by the time I went back to Croatia four months later, I was so much more confident. I’ll never forget the look on the face of the waitress – who we’d known for ages, but never been able to talk to – when I asked her about her day in Croatian! It wasn’t perfect, but I was trying – and that’s what mattered.
Now, seven months on since my first class, while I’m by no means fluent, I can hold conversations with my neighbours and it makes for a much richer experience.
Yes, every week in class is a challenge, but it’s one I intend to stick with.
‘I longed to be able to chat’