Polyglot.

Go ahead, say it out loud, let it sit on the back of your tongue. No, a polyglot is not a mutant platypus that lives in quicksand. A polyglot is a person who knows multiple languages; to be a polyglot is one of my favorite and most prestigious goals in life.



That time I kissed Pancho Villa.



This pursuit did not have an easy start. I set off to Chihuahua City, Mexico for a language school in 2008. The story may seem nice on the outside, but that summer I felt like I was wearing a linguistic straitjacket.  I had not the vocabulary or fluidity to engage in deep coversation with anyone, nor did I  feel that the words that came out of my mouth in Spanish were even mine. They did not feel like my words, neither in the shape my mouth took to form them nor mentally and emotionally did they carry significance or consequence. Like saying cuss words in Chinese.

This, however, did not stop me. I went on to major in Spanish and take many other trips to foreign countries. Most recently, I have been getting my toes wet in American Sign Language thanks to a coworker at the Y, and I was tipped off to Greek lessons that are going to be free to the community here in a couple weeks taught by one of the Hubs' math professors. Opa! I am giddy with excitement. I will catch you, polyglot.

Why language? Language is the tool that allows for us to ask for the food that sustains us, it provides the vocabulary that binds us in life-long promises, and in the right combination, it can make us laugh until our abs are sore the next day. Our lives are full of it, and full because of it. Also, on a more studious note, bilingualism has been shown to slow the onset of diseases like Dementia and Alzheimer's. Studies have also shown that people with more than one language have stronger abilities to categorize, problem solve, and decisively narrow their mental focus. As our world continues to get metaphorically smaller we are constantly bumping into other cultures; this can be alarming at first, but a simple outreach like language can help us understand each other even if that doesn't mean agreeing with each other. If you are considering the quest of the polyglot here are a handful of the world's most spoken languages to consider:

Mandarin Chinese: clocking in at 935 million native speakers, the odds are overwhelmingly in your favor for finding a new friend in this population.

Spanish: 387 million native speakers, primary language to 20 countries, stretching in the Western Hemisphere from New York City to the tip of Patagonia in Chile. Spanish is also considered a romance language, use it wisely.

Hindi: 295 million native speakers: you could travel to India, ride an elephant, and do yoga with the pros.

Arabic: 280 million native speakers with ties to some of the worlds oldest civilizations. Also great for building new neurological pathways in the brain as you read and write from right to left in this language!

On the topic of language...ok I really just want to tie this in because it blew my mind. So here's to a not-so-smooth transition. *glasses clink, cheers*

Body language. We all know that how we carry ourselves, our facial expressions, how we move or don't move our hands shapes our identity so much that there is a whole genre of theater dedicated to impersonations. Seriously, how many Elvis's (or should it be Elvi?) have you seen in your lifetime. But! Did you know that that your body language can shape you? It's a two-way street according to Amy Cuddy who spoke at a TED conference on the topic. She presents evidence that the position of your body can hormonally effect your brain and lead to a change in behavior such as risk taking; she contends that certain poses, that she dubs "power poses", can really, physiologically reduce stress. WHOA. One minor blurb about me in the midst of this: in addition to language, another of my all-time favorite topics is the complexity of mind-body connection. Intrigued? You should be. Watch and be amazed.

Thanks for tuning in to blog #2.

The "Silent Hero of the Day" award today goes to my Mom who was an elementary teacher and counselor for 28 (or maybe 29) years. She inspires me to be a life-long learner and taught me how to fit an egg through the opening of a bottle using a match, which is still, at the age of 23, an awesome science experiment.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/18/opinion/sunday/the-benefits-of-bilingualism.html?_r=0
http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2011/feb/18/bilingual-alzheimers-brain-power-multitasking
stats on # of native speakers from wikipedia

21 Months...But Who's Counting?

21 months is the amount of time between the creation of this blog and my first post. I know, I'm off to a great start, and you missed me. Thanks.



On a more serious note: I am excited to blog! "Better late than never" definitely has its appeal. I can't say for sure what turn my writing will take here, but if I had to imagine, I'd say a hefty amount of anecdotes, a pinch of commentary, a couple giggles here and there, and probably a dash of research from time to time when I need to get my nerd on. I will write to remember this sweet season of newlywed life in Northern Arizona; to hold these memories in this online time capsule. I will write to inform, be it little life lessons that are thrown my way or investigations of my own choosing. I will write to interact with my friends and family that are slowly but surely scattering across the globe to take on life to the fullest; and finally, I will write for the sport of it, to hear the keyboard clicking under my fingers, and to put a smile on your face.

*My sister and I on a Buffalo : time capsuled!*

Because the is my first blog and the blog itself is dedicated to firsts, it seems I have quite an occasion on my hands. I'll just jump right in.

My most recent and memorable first was the epic journey Meg, Piper and I made to the highest point in Arizona. Just for future reference, Piper is a dog, else wise you might find it odd how Meg picks her up over rocks and feeds her roast beef for a job well done.

Sunday's skies were scattered with clouds as we started our accent to the final altitude of 12,637 ft. I have been wanting to conquer this mountain from the first day we moved to Flagstaff. Especially after the rather embarrassing, not-so-conquering effort that took place on Mount Elden (9,299 ft) a couple months ago.

The first hours of the hike were pleasant. I'm an up-hill kind of girl in that I will always perfer inclines to decline. Maybe its apex that intrigues me, or that there is less distance to fall forward uphill, maybe both, maybe neither; but let me tell you, my glutes rock the up-hill trek.

Then the tree line happened.



*thanks to wikipedia for the picture*



Now, my friend, Meg, moonlights as Super Woman. The Hubs and I joke that she single-handedly makes him look like less of a man and me less of a woman. She has lived on her own in the woods as a wildlife biologist, made birds eat out of her hands, brewed beer with marshmallows as the secret ingredient, makes her own bread in her very own RV, and is working on a quilt. All that aside, Meg and I were not prepared for the final 1,000 ft climb to the summit. We saw people going in the opposite direction passed us suited up like snowboarders; they were all happy too, smiling and carrying on about the views and wishing us luck. Meg and I were sporting capri-like bottoms with t-shirts. I had a light jacket and Piper had her ever-handy rescue harness, but that was the extent of our outerwear. It was a very desolate place beyond the "saddle" and without the shelter of the trees we were freezing. A couple times we thought we had reached the top only to come over the hump and see the real thing off in the distance. With our eyes on the prize we kept on keeping on.

The hail began about this time in the journey: fast little ice balls that stung upon impact with your face. Those scattered Sunday clouds are not nearly as friendly when you are inside of them. Finally, after a couple of potty breaks on the edge of the trail, we made it. The highest point in Arizona welcomed us with rocks to huddle under to get out of the blast.

It was exhilarating. Take that Mount Elden.

After rewarding Piper with roast beef and snapping a couple pictures with our phones (which I have absolutely no idea how to get on my new blog) we turned around embracing the law of nature that we should now be the obnoxiously happy (though not as warm) people blessing the up-hill travelers with well-meaning encouragement.

My hands were ice and because cutesy work-out capris generally do not come with pockets I had resorted to shoving my hands in my pants wherever they fit as we moved along. It's amazing how quickly shame leaves the body when misery sets in. Looking back, I'm not certian if the outside tempreature actually dropped or just my body tempreature, but in my mind the only answer was to jog, or more like trot because of the vastly uneven terrain. To keep the blood circulating in our arms Meg taught me the shoulder shrug and drop trick. Perfect timing. Now, figuritively close your eyes and picture this: two girls, one with hands tucked under her backpack behind her, the other with hands reaching down her thighs, both boucing shoulders for circulation with a miniature austrailian shepherd between them, hobbling at what must have been some kind of record breaking speed. In our own awkward way, it was working! Until one misguided step and no arms for balance, I was down. Nothing but minor damages and the trip went on, though at a slower pace.

At this point in the story of "My First Time to the Top of Arizona" the good parts are over. In fact, the low point was on the way home as I sat with my head between my knees on the side of the road thanks to the onset of a migraine. See, no one wants the details of that ordeal. So I will leave it at that: the day Meg, Piper and I summited Humphreys Peak. It was a memorable first for us all!

Let the blogging begin.

Oh! There was one thing I left out: the Silent Hero of the Day award goes to my dear husband who on two seperate occacions saved the day: first to unlock my keys from the car while we were on the trail and second for a roadside migraine meds delivery. Love that man.