Wall

When you first arrive in a foreign country, the noise all around you is like a giant wall. Massive. Impenetrable. In a way, it's cool. Everyone else is restricted to reacting to the meaning of sounds. You can walk down the street in complete freedom. Separate. Independent. Utterly uninformed...

Gradually, cracks form in the surface of the wall. Little words start to slip through. Words for food and time and please and thank you. This is the stage I'm in now.

I think cracks continue to grow, and one day, the wall crumbles so you can see the other side. I wait for this day.

Until then, my Russian teacher has told me that I have no accent. Also no vocabulary. No grammar. But, no accent.