Language learning is slow. Slower than I thought. It takes a long time. Especially when you arrived in a country in your early thirties without knowing the language. It happens bit by bit. I learned the word “to bite” last night when an autistic kid bit me. I learned the verb “to step on” when reading signs at the park. They didn´t want people to step on the flowers. I understood it once I took the time to look it up in my dictionary while sitting on the grass.

I think life, real life, is slow. It is slow learning, steps forwards forward, backward, and really in any given direction. It really just means I have to try, I have to exert myself, and I have to keep doing that. Maybe it is that simple?