I have a terrible memory for names. I tell most people while meeting the first time that I’ll remember their face and personality - but not the name. 

But I like to read and understand other languages like Japanese for instance.  Listening, grasping and enjoying during the learning process is a lot of fun and entertaining. So I did found this Blog entry here very inspiring.

Besides, Westerners, with their stable countries and solid borders, tend to forget that for much of the world (and indeed for much of Western history) being polyglot has been a necessity for survival. On the Ukrainian-Slovakian border, a region across which the borders of empires have swept back and forth like windscreen wipers, I met office assistants who were fluent in Ukrainian, Slovakian, Hungarian and Russian as well as German or English; nobody found this remarkable. Israel, where I live now, is still home to post-war immigrants from Europe who speak seven or eight languages. Amos Oz, the prominent Israeli novelist, writes in his autobiography of growing up in a house that had books in 16 languages on its shelves.

My obsession, on which I’ll be expounding this week, is how languages are constructed and the differences in how they express things.

To be honest, it borders on nerdiness. I spend spare moments wondering why a sexy outfit “gets attention” in English but “calls attention” in Spanish, or why a “working assumption” is rendered in Hebrew as an “assumption of work”. Had I stayed in England, I would surely spend weekends on platforms writing down train numbers.

Read on here about the Hebrew and Arabic differences in historic terms.