The lady at the university library is so sure that I speak German. I have never said a word to her. I nod in “deep”, pretentious understanding, and smile, since, what could she probably say? Sure, something like, “Ah, borrow this one?” no problem at all, just a little more pretense, and I will pass this conversation safely, I said to myself while I continued to nod my head rhythmically.
I started a German course when I came to Liechtenstein University, a course for absolute beginners. Of course, there is a rather long way to go, as I did not make much progress, and fortunately, quite many people speak English here in the city, and, on-campus communication is not a problem at all due to its bilingual nature. Language is fundamental for communicating and blending in. Fact. And it is even more mandatory if one intends to stay and find a job, etc. Another fact.
But, on the other hand (and I am aware of the poeticism of this argument), the lack of a mutual communication medium, sometimes, somehow and in its own peculiar way, enriches human interaction! This is a weird thing to say, but let me illustrate, there is this old graceful german lady in charge of cleaning and maintaining the university dorm, who is so cute and kind as if she just got out of one of those Disney animation movies, yes, exactly, that is it! She is the typical lovely grandma as cherished in our childhood memories. She usually does her job, strangely, around the lunch hour, when the dormitory is quite empty and quiet, since most of the students are at university, either having lunch in there or still locked in some seminar rooms, dreaming of the moment of release, well, on that day, I was not one of those, as I happened to be in the dormitory, more specifically in the communal kitchen, struggling to cook the lunch, dropping the pots, clashing plates, and making an extraordinary noise, and the final result was… ehm, let’s say did not worth all the effort and noise. During all this hustle she passed by a few times while she was taking care of the building, and when she saw me during my circus show (aka cooking lol), as expected, she smiled at me in a childish, yet witty manner, you could not imagine her anytime more than that moment as a little boy amusingly teasing and laughing at his friend, yet the grace and kindness of a caring grandmother are evident in her eyes. Then she said something, which I did not understand, before disappearing in the hallway. And those nice coincidences happened several times, and whenever we saw each other in the building, she, doing her job, and I, cooking or about to, she greeted me dearly with the same joyful smile of a witty child, and nodded her head. And the same from my side, though, with a bit of embarrassment. We never said any word at all, even the basic greetings (which I know of course, within my beginner level), such an intimate humane communication without even a single word, has always been a profound and refreshing concept to me. That makes me think that after all, words sometimes fail to carry human compassion. And for me, this short wordless interaction with that graceful “grandma” always lifted my spirits and reminded me of home, like no other words would do. And hopefully, someday I will be way better in German language than now, that I could, in hindsight, understand the only phrase she said to me when first saw me hustling in the kitchen, Only, I hope, not to discover that she was actually saying, “ look at this idiot we have here!”