I’m learning German … and I use that term loosely.  Learning would imply I’m somehow processing and understanding something.  So far neither of those has happened.  

For me, German is the most foreign of foreign languages.  It’s a bunch of guttural, phlegmmy-sounding words that run roughshod over a bunch of other consonants.  (Granted, I haven’t tried to learn Swahili yet, but I’m pretty sure that would be easier.  Heck, Klingon would be easier.) 

When I hear people speak in German, it sounds elegant and graceful.  Maybe it’s their tone or the inflection.  When I try to say anything, however, it’s harsh and grating.  Yesterday, I sprained my tongue as I practiced asking for directions to Opera Square.  Have you ever sprained your tongue?  It’s not pretty.  Currently, my tongue is being held in stasis by two plastic spoons and a bunch of gauze.   

And the worst part? There’s no such place as Opera Square. 

Last year when I visited Germany I always felt like the odd man out.  I didn’t understand one word anyone was saying … except for the occasional “Auf wiedersehen”.   My friend Christian was fairly patient with me, but eventually snapped when I butchered trying to order coffee.  “Michael, you are hurting my ears.  Either let me order for you or please stop drinking coffee immediately,” he groused.  

Last week I snagged a bunch of Pilsner’s German CD’s.  It’s a poor man’s Rosetta Stone.  But it’s been very helpful when attempting a conversation.  Granted, I don’t know my alphabet or my numbers yet, but I can now ask the oh-so important “Do you speak English?” and comment that “I do not understand any German”.    

The first two CDs have been amazing simplistic and rudimentary.  A four-year old could grasp the semantics of the German language.  I, however, cannot.  I’ve listened to them multiple times and the only thing I’ve gleaned is how to say “Guten tag!” correctly.  (And, to be honest, that’s still a little dicey.)

This may very well be the most difficult thing I’ve ever attempted.  Becoming a neurosurgeon or rocket scientist would require less effort.  That bitch Heidi Klum makes it seem effortless.  Now excuse me while I put on my headphones and tune out the rest of the world and babble nonsensical German in to thin air.  Scheisse!