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Home ![]() 0. Goals ![]() 1. Words ![]() 2. Listening ![]() 3. Reading ![]() 4. Teachers ![]() 5. Speaking ![]() 6. Memory ![]() 7. Training ![]() 8. Epilogue ![]() Comments ![]() We'll inform you
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2. Listening
Have you recently listened to people speaking unfamiliar languages?
If you haven't, turn on your radio or TV set, select a station from another country, and within
minutes you will hit a broadcast with loquacious individuals talking all the time. Alternatively, if
you live in a metropolis, go down onto the streets and spot groups of animated people speaking
foreign languages. Listen attentively. You will soon notice that humans produce continuous streams
of uninterrupted speech. The overall impression? Phonological polenta, porridge, mousse au
chocolate. For the non-initiated listener, it is hard to grasp that such seemingly random
proliferation of sound can be reasonably articulated. The reality is different, of course. Any
single language you come across on Earth is as structured, differentiated, distinguished, beautiful,
and funny as your native language. Impenetrable as these languages appear to be, on the scale of a
human lifetime, they are just around the corner - give them two or three years, and any of them is
yours. It is a refreshing thought that all humans are brothers and sisters in language. A porridge-like sense of unintelligibility prevails even
after years of language classes at school. You are able to decipher a restaurant menu and order a
dish of spaghetti, but comprehension vanishes as soon as the waiter starts talking. The same happens
with bakers, taxi drivers, and hotel employees - again polenta and pea soup. It seems as if years of
classes studying grammar and learning long lists of vocabulary produce little or no effect. You can
read Goethe, Shakespeare, Sartre, Cervantes, or Dante, and yet you don't understand their
descendants. Many of us conclude that we are inept at learning other languages and never try again.
The apparent easiness with which humans learn their native language during the
first years of life, is intriguing. Not only do young children readily soak up any of the thousands
of possible human languages, but they also learn to understand a huge variety of radically different
pronunciations - mum and dad, the neighbours, the fisherman at the street corner, people speaking
other dialects, stuttering infants, and toothless grandparents. To date, there is no machine capable
of this level of speech recognition. The human species has put 12 men on the moon, and devised chess
computers that can beat world champions; yet it is still wrestling with building potent speech
recognition systems. How do young children outperform the most sophisticated machines? How do they
structure linguistic input into meaningful units so rapidly? To answer these questions, look at how
you spent your first year. Do you remember? As a physiological preterm primate, your interactions
with the world were pretty limited - eating, digesting, looking, and listening. With such a limited
repertoire of actions, every single action necessarily received an immense share of your attention.
Once digestion was settled, you mutated into an ear-and-eye monster, capturing shapes and movements
around you and soaking in every single sound you heard. You didn't lose a minute setting about the
most important task of your life: putting structure into the sound produced by the people who
inhabited your life. The first hurdle was determining the word boundaries within the language of
your ancestors. Where do single words begin; where do they end? Figure 2.1: Sound wave pattern of " Putting structure into the porridge of sound produced by the
people who inhabited your life." As you see from Figure 2.1, the sound wave per se does not confer
information about the boundaries between single words. To show the magnitude of the task you face in
a new language, try to delimit the word boundaries: Howdoyounginfantstacklethis
problem?Onepossibleansweristhattheydecipher
thespeechstreambymeansoffrequencyanalysisTaketheso
undsequencepretty#babyInfantswouldlearnthat
syllablesthatarepartofthesamewordwouldtendtofollow
oneanotherpredictably(prettybaby)where
assyllablesthatspanwordboundaries(tyba)
wouldnotAstybaoccurslessfrequentlyth
anothercombinationsofsyllablesthereisagoodchance
thatthereisawordboundaryinbetween. Delimiting word boundaries in a speech stream is no easier than trying to
determine them in the previous paragraph. So how do young infants crack the sound code? They perform
frequency analyses. Take for example the sound sequence What a pretty baby you are. Through
continuous exposure to human language - babbling humans produce 10,000 words and more in a single
hour ! - infants progressively understand that syllables which are part of the same word tend
to follow one another predictably (pret-ty, ba-by), whereas syllables that follow one
another less frequently are word boundaries (a#pret, ty#ba). This type of frequency analysis is dependent on a well-functioning memory that
accumulates an ever-growing number of words and, of course, extensive training. The problem is
speed. As human speech can produce three and more words per second, there is little time for either
childish astonishment or for adult considerations such as "What does that word exactly
mean?", "Is the verb in the present or past tense?", "What the hell is that
grammatical structure?", etc. At full speed, speech is unpardonable - a single instant of
indecision makes you stumble and after getting onto your feet again, the sentence is gone. Speech
comprehension is therefore a triple challenge: slicing human speech into digestible units, endowing
them with meaning by matching the segments with thousands of existing words stored in your brain
dictionary, and, finally, doing all this without giving it a second thought. Fortunately, our word
brain is genetically programmed to do these mental acrobatics, and as you have already done it once
- when you learned your native language - you can do it again with other languages as often as you
want. To see what it looks like when your auditory brain cortex works at full-speed, put your brain
into a PET scanner (Figure 2.2). Figure 2.2 Listening to words: High activity in the auditory
brain cortex. Adapted from Raichle, 1988. Thorough training is paramount. In my experience, it took around 1,500 to 2,000
hours of intense listening to achieve "semi-perfect sequencing abilities", both in French
and Italian. Amazingly, the results were similar for Arabic, a language so totally different from
everything I had learned before. This seems counterintuitive because in Arabic, I needed to learn at
least three times as many truly new words as in Italian, and raises a couple of questions: Should
the time of exposure that is needed to achieve full sequencing abilities - 1,500 hours would
translate into 6, 4, and 2 hours per day over a period of 9, 12, and 24 months, respectively) - be a
human constant? Could our speech recognition abilities be independent of the type of language we
learn? Or perhaps even relatively immune to the effect of ageing? And are young children truly
superior to adults in word segmenting or do they simply dedicate more time to listening than
adults? Some of these questions will be answered by future research, but
I am inclined to accept that there is a physiological turning point for human brains to get wired to
the ability of dissecting the sounds of new languages. You would need a minimum of time to perform
this task, but you wouldn't need much longer than that. You are now able to solve the close-to-zero-understanding-after-years-of-school
problem that we exposed at the beginning of this chapter. If teenagers are frustrated when they put
their school knowledge into practise, it is because school teaching is insufficient to get you
anywhere near the 1,500-hour exposure minimum. Even if your teachers speak exclusively in the
foreign language, you will rarely total more than 500 hours of attentive listening in a typical
5-year course. Thus, you discover that your teachers were innocent - they simply did not have enough
time to get you through your speech segmentation task. So, if private and public schools are not in a position to provide us with
sufficient exposure to human speech, where can we go to get it? The best school, of course, is life.
Emigrate, either definitely or for just one study year, and take a linguistic bath in a new language
environment. The younger you are, the more flexible your brain and the easier it will be to find
yourself in groups of people who never stop talking. Add an intense love affair, and your daily
listening quota of 8, 10, or even 12 hours will soon be a reality. Within a year, you are a perfect
speech segmenter. If you choose to stay at home, you will need speech surrogates and things are
less straightforward. With a workload of 500 to 1,500 hours from the previous chapter, you may find
it demanding to accommodate another 1,500 hours of training in your time schedule. You are lucky,
though. As listening can easily be done in parallel to other activities - commuting, doing sport, or
cooking, etc. - you will manage to dissolve the bulk of your speech recognition programme in daily
life (like a murderer who dissolves a corpse in an acid bath!). Thereafter, it will be sufficient to
change your TV habits (more about that below), and the true extra study time can be reduced to
around 100 hours. Just remember these two important pieces of advice from this chapter: During the
first year of your training, never read a text without hearing the sound; and, only listen to audio
sources if you have the corresponding text at hand. The immediate consequence is that it is imperative that your first language
manual comes with a CD-ROM (CD). During the 100 hours of extra study just mentioned, listen to the
CD. As expected, even with the text in front of your eyes, comprehension of the audio files is not
always immediate. In these cases, take single sentences or even single words, put them in an audio
loop and listen to them 5, 10, or 15 times. Some audio devices come with a convenient button to
define the beginning and the end of the loop. Using sledgehammer methods cracks every sentence
within seconds. Most importantly, don't feel uncomfortable if you listen to a language CD for the
54th time. This is all but dishonouring, and after all, you did exactly that with your
favourite music when you were young. Don't be afraid of unconventional behaviour either. If you are
used to having a siesta, put your earphones on and activate the loop mode. It is certainly
impossible to learn words during sleep, but the sound and music of the new language will certainly
enter your brain. Once you have digested your first (and maybe second) language manual, you will
discover that the Internet offers extraordinary tools for second-language acquisition: audio
files plus transcripts! (see example at Language teaching - Educational material is available for English at http://hiv.net/link.php?id=8, German at http://hiv.net/link.php?id=7, and French at http://hiv.net/link.php?id=6. Many more languages are mouse-clicks away (more in Chapter 7).Podcasts - Physicians and scientists who want to polish up their skills in English will find an amazing wealth of material at www.FreeMedicalPodcasts.com. The website presents a list of scientific and medical journals that publish podcasts at regular, normally weekly, intervals. Ranging in duration from 10 to 30 minutes, these podcasts offer top-quality audio files about progress in science and medicine, and half of them come with transcripts. My favourite is the Nature Podcast (http://hiv.net/link.php?id=15).Audio books - As most free audio books are classics, you will generally also find the free text (see http://www.gutenberg.org). Check German sources at http://hiv.net/link.php?id=12, English at http://hiv.net/link.php?id=13, French at http://hiv.net/link.php?id=14, and other languages at www.Google.com.The final surrogate for speech in real life is TV. Apart from high-quality documentaries, which are rare, TV is a poor source of content, and most of us would prefer reading books or scientific journals. TV is also mostly irrelevant. Suicide attacks in remote countries; minor earthquakes, tsunamis, or erupting volcanoes; old, helpless people murdered by drug-intoxicated gangs of youths; drug-intoxicated gangs of youths slain by paramilitary troops; paramilitary groups killed in an ambush by guerilleros, etc. - all have little or no impact on your personal and professional life, and watching TV is basically tantamount to killing precious life time. Imperfect though it may be, some broadcasts, for example TV news programmes, have nonetheless the composition of outstanding speech trainers. The journalists talk continuously, there is no background music to spoil the sound of the speech, the language is standardised with only a few slang words, and the images provide you with important clues for understanding what's going on. In addition, TV news provides all the ingredients of a classical soap opera: the players (politicians) and the content (political crises) are well known, and you already know half of the story, and even if you don't, it really doesn't matter. My advice: Stop watching TV in your native language and start watching TV in your future languages. The TV genres that serve your purpose most are the news and documentaries if you wish to become familiar with the language of the media and the language of science; and soap operas if you are interested in more colloquial language. Listen to your new TV programme for at least 15 minutes every day, starting on the very first day that you begin studying another language. Persist, even if you don't understand a single word. Remember: it is all about word boundaries, so try and discover your first words. As you will see later, identifying these boundaries is partly independent of knowing the meaning of the words. Let us summarise:
Week after week, the sound pattern of words will flow into your brain. Again, your brain will be acting as a huge sponge, as cracking the code to a human language is not a reserved hunting ground for infants and young children. With time, as comprehension sets in, British porridge slowly mutates into French Cuisine. So far, so good, you might think, but you have noticed something rather curious. You have been told to learn 5,000 to 15,000 words and complete a 1,500-hour speech recognition course, but nobody has asked you to say a single word. Legitimately, you wonder if you will one day be authorised to pronounce some of the words you have learned and to communicate your precious thoughts to other people. There are good reasons to restrain your desire to communicate. As you are a virgin - linguistically speaking - you might prefer to stay that way for a while. If you accept patience, my favourite prescription is a monastic '3-month silence'. Remember: you are not at school, there are no exams on the horizon, and you may therefore take a comfortable route when starting your new language. Concentrate on absorbing words, sounds and sentences, and, day after day, let the sound of the new language slowly sink in. Of course, you are too old for an exclusive baby approach to language learning, but for now, listen passively as young children do. Good pronunciation comes as a bonus of patient and attentive listening, and before you open your mouth, see in the next chapter what your eyes can do.
Workload after Chapter 1-2 Speech-recognition training, typically 1,500 hours and more, can mostly be integrated into daily activities. Only about 100 hours of extra study time are needed while you become familiar with one or two language manuals. Added to the workload defined in the previous chapter, your total workload is now 600 to 1,600 hours
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![]() "After reading The Word Brain, you may decide that you have no time to learn a new language - but never again will you say that you have no talent for it."
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