As I went outside on a beautiful Sunday, I grabbed my phone, packet tissue and keys and left the house. I decided to take a walk to the Grounds of Alexandria near my place. It was a 20 minutes walk away. It’s not like there is no coffee near my place but I just like going to the Grounds. It’s such a pretty place, filled with beautiful flowers, quirky decorations and amazing atmosphere. If there is a cafe that I would say epitomises Sunday mornings in Sydney, this is it. As I was about to reach the place, I realised I was missing my wallet. (I must say it did dawned on me that I could have probably used my phone to tap and pay but then there is the whole thing of it might not work and issue of phone security. I also did not want to end up washing their dogs or utensils because I couldn’t pay for my coffee.)

So, I set off back to my house to grab my wallet. How typical of me. Always almost there but never quite make it.

It reminded me of my English language exams that I have to take in the past year for my permanent residency application. In order to apply for it, you must reach a certain number of points and one of the biggest contributer of points is your English proficiency. For me, I needed to show that I have a superior command of English to get the maximum points available. In order to do that, you need to reach above a threshold of 89% in each category whether it’s speaking, writing, listening and reading.

Before I did another Engish exam the day before, I had already done three, coming close in each one but never quite made it. With the first two, I missed out because I didn’t make it for the writing category. With the third, I didn’t make it for speaking instead. These exams cost money too but looking at the bigger picture, the cost is something you just have to swallow without complaining.

English has been my first language since young. The first words taught to me as a baby were of the English language. The main language in my household is English. If I need to choose a language to defend my life with, it would be English. My Malay and Cantonese would have never been able to be something as such. The very language that I blogged in is English. My thoughts are all in English. It is not the most elegant or efficient language but it’s the only one I have come to know personally and has forged my very own identity.

When I came from Malaysia to Australia, one of the things that surprises the locals the most was my English command. It would go along the lines of, “How are you able to speak English?” or “You are from Malaysia? No way! I thought you are from here. You speak English so well.” It doesn’t offend me as I can’t help it if people are ignorant of the ability of Malaysians to speak proper English. One of the things I needed to change or more accurately, mask was my accent. Coming from Malaysia, my accent was always rougher and I tend to slur my words. One of things I get teased the most was that my ‘threes’ sounded like ‘trees’. Now, I don’t know why it sounds rougher. Maybe it is because of the restlessness and noise of the cities in Malaysia. It could also just be a result of my very own Chinese culture meshing with the Malaysian culture, creating a loud and fast-paced accented English.

I found myself being a calmer person because I didn’t ‘turn on’ my accent when I speak. It could be because I have to restraint myself from going full blown ‘Manglish’ (Malaysian English) or that I’ve gotten older. Either way, when I first started speaking the neutral sounded English, I never really felt like myself and thought that I’m only presenting a partial version of myself and never the whole being.

Regardless, as long as others spoke English too, they would understand me perfectly and vice versa. In a world away from home, I thought that English was my saving grace, enabling me to communicate with others of different backgrounds, cultures and histories.

As I sat for my exam again yesterday, I felt really nervous even though it’s the fourth time I’m doing it. The first category tested was speaking. Before the exam started, the computer said to introduce myself. I did exactly that but somehow at a frantic pace. It just went downhill from there. I fumbled some of the questions and sweated my way through. There was this sinking feeling that I am not going to make it again. For the rest of the exam, I just went through the motions and couldn’t shake off the anchor that was in my head.

After I was done with it, I just felt like crying. I didn’t know if I had it in me to do it again. These scores were telling me that I couldn’t write and speak. The very language that I did choral speaking in, public speaking in, blog writing in and articles writing in is suddenly a mountain I need to climb over. It was hard to take in.

During the times that I didn’t get through, I asked myself, “Did I not get through because I was overconfident of something seemingly so easy and hence did not study as much for it?” or “Did I not get through because the system was against me?” After reflecting upon it further, it always going to be the former that is the main reason. I didn’t lower myself enough to admit that I have issues with my grammar or that I don’t pronounce my words properly. If I have friends whose first language isn’t English and yet managed to get through it, what does that say about me?

Just because I’ve known something my whole life, it does not make me superior in it let alone a master in it.

Even though I felt down on the day, the thought about languages intrigued me more and more. What exactly is in a language? What’s in a word? If said rightly, it is able to inspire and change the world. If said wrongly, it can wound the hearts of others so badly and start wars. Languages are seemingly a beautiful disaster. Our brains can seemingly remember every single word we have learned or used. We are able to compose and write songs, poetry, haikus and stories and yet sometimes when we need it the most, we are at a loss of what to say. We could learn all the languages in the world but if a grieving person comes to you for help or that we are trying to find the words for apologies; in that moment, all we could muster is silence.

One will come to learn that the greatest thing to say at times is not to say anything at all. The greatest thing we can do is to listen.

In our toughest trials and moments of deep sadness, it is the single tear shed that speaks louder than any word we could possibly imagine. When we were babies and infants, it was our parents’ warm embraces and silent guarding that shows how much they care for us. We may not have understood words but we understood actions. They too make up languages.

Languages go far and beyond ‘the use of of words in a structured and conventional way’. Even if two people don’t speak the same conventional native languages, if they have a common interest in food, games, sports or religion, that’s your language. That’s your way in with people around you. When we experience something, it could either become a passing memory or something that reaches far deeper. I believe it was St. Mary McKillop who reminds us that, ‘gratitude is the memory of the heart’. Vacate enough space within yourself and approach people with sincerity, you suddenly find your conversations reaching another level when your words, actions, memories and silence come together to create speech.

English wasn’t my only saving grace when I came here. It was everything that I have experienced before and most importantly, my faith that allows me to speak the way I do. When I told my friends that I am going to fail this exam again, each one of them said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you did fine!’. Some said they will pray. My mum even took the extra step to search YouTube for miracle prayers. She’s endearing like that but it also speaks volume of her faith in God; steadfast and unwavering. Anyway, comforted by my loved ones and sustained by prayers, I was able to put my English test aside for now.

When I woke up on that Sunday morning and checked my phone, I saw an email coming in that the results for the test are out! With anxiety, I checked it and was prepared to face the worst. I did it! I got the marks needed! (This blog post had a very different ending initially when I thought about it but the results proved my fears and suspicions wrong.) That’s it! I don’t know how but I made it. No more almost there. After trying four times, I got it in the end.

Eventually, I did grab my wallet and made it back to the Grounds. I got my coffee in the end. There was no washing of dogs or utensils. It was all relatively low key. What mattered was I got there. As with speaking, I realised I still have so much to learn about it. I don’t think I will ever ‘make it’ but I do understand this; if you structure your words well, you would be able to get an idea across to a person’s brain. But speak with your whole being, that reaches a person’s heart.

Lace every word with love. Speak with humility. When need be, silence. It is hard to do but that should be the way we strive to speak.