As　you　review　your　cassettes；　try　to　come　up　with　the　foreign　word　during　the
  pause　before　the　next　piece　of　English。　Put　artificial　pressure　on　yourself：　“Can　I　come　up
  with　the　expression　before　I　hear　the　next　word　on　the　cassette？”　Or　if　you’re　listening　as
  you’re　walking；　“Can　I　come　up　with　it　before　I　get　to　that　sign；　that　lamppost；　the
  corner；　the　curb？”　Victory　is　being　able　to　take　an　entire　cassette　of　what　were　recently
  nonsense　syllables　to　you　and　throw　back　the　foreign　equivalents　without　hesitation。
  You’ll　be　glad　you　didn’t　smash　your　tools　when　your　friend　approaches　you　by
  surprise　to　introduce　you　to　her　friend　from　a　country　that　speaks　the　language　you’re
  learning　and　you　respond　with　a　crisp；　correct　“Pleased　to　meet　you”　in　that　language！
  Commit　Language　Larceny
  There　are　interesting　lessons　coiled　up　inside　ordinary　greetings　in　different　languages。
  The　Estonian　greeting　Kuidas　（k。si　k。ib）　literally　means　“How　does　your　hand
  walk？”　An　old　Chinese　greeting　is　Chr　bao　le；　mei　lo？　which　means；　“Have　you　had　food
  yet？”　–　no　small　achievement　in　the　China　of　some　periods。　A　charming　greeting　in
  Yiddish　is　“Zug　mir　a　shtikel　Toireh；”　which　means　“Teach　me　a　piece　of　Torah；”　the
  Torah　being　the　five　books　of　Moses　and　the　holiest　document　in　the　Jewish　religion。
  Language　learners　can　use　the　spirit　of　that　last　one　to　good　advantage。
  When　you　encounter　a　native　speaker　of　your　target　language；　and　when　you　start　a
  conversation　in　that　language；　three　things　are　certain。　You　will　be　stuck　for　words　you
  need　but　don’t　know。　He　will　use　words　you　don’t　understand。　And　you　will　make
  mistakes。　Get　into　the　habit　of　exploiting　those　moments　to　the　hilt！
  When　you　don’t　know　a　word；　ask　him　for　it。　When　you　don’t　understand　a　word　he
  uses；　ask　him　what　it　means。　Ask　him　to　do　you　the　favour　of　correcting　your　mistakes。
  You　may　not　have　much　luck　with　that　latter　request；　he　may　be　too　polite　or　too
  impressed　that　you’re　making　an　effort　in　his　language　to　criticise　you。　If　you　feel　he’s
  letting　your　mistakes　slide　by；　pick　a　fairly　long　sentence　and　ask　him　to　help　you
  hammer　out　your　mistakes　in　just　that　one　sentence。　Write　that　sentence　down　on　one　of
  your　blank　flash　cards。　Ask　him　to　check　it　again。　Milk　the　moment。　As　the　Latin　goes；
  Carpe　diem！
  Don’t　ever　enter　into　anything　as　precious　as　a　conversation　in　your　target　language
  with　a　native　speaker　and　leave　knowing　no　more　than　when　you　started。　You’ve　got　a
  repertoire　in　that　language。　He　has　a　larger　one。　Reach　in　and　help　yourself。
  At　No　Extra　Cost
  You　may　think　you　have　a　good　idea　precisely　how　your　life　will　improve　once　you’ve
  mastered　your　target　language。　You’re　wrong。　It　will　be　much　better　than　you　think。
  Unexpected　good　things　happen　to　you　when　you　learn　even　a　little　of　the　other
  guy’s　language。　A　chapter　detailing　some　of　those　things　may　seem　like　preaching　to　the
  choir；　when　you　consider　that　anybody　likely　to　be　reading　this　has　already　decided　he
  wants　to　learn。　So　what？　Who　more　than　the　members　of　the　choir　deserve　the
  inspiration？
  All　the　case　histories　that　follow　were　culled　and　corroborated　by　members　of　the
  Language　Club　who　were　asked　to　be　alert　to　all　the　nice　little　extras　that　come　your　way
  when　you　speak　another　language。　Many　of　them　happened　to　me　personally　and
  continue　to　happen　almost　daily。
  In　New　York　and　some　other　major　cities　a　huge　percentage　of　the　cab　drivers　are
  from　Haiti。　Try　this；　just　to　get　a　taste　of　the　power　of　another　language。　If　your　driver　is
  Haitian；　lean　forward　and　say　（phonetically）；　“Sa　（rhymes　with　“ma”）　pass　（“pasta”
  without　the　“ta”）　SAY　（as　in　the　English　“say”）；　pa…PA　（“papa；”　but　accented　on　the　last
  syllable）。　Sort　those　sounds　out　and　try　it。　“Sa　paSAY　paPA？”　It　means　something　like　the
  French　Comment　。a　va？　（“How　are　you？”）；　but　it’s　not　French。　It’s　his　native　Haitian
  Creole　slang　and　he　may　never　before　have　heard　that　utterance　from　the　lips　of　a　non…
  Haitian。
  That　one　line　is　guaranteed　to　get　you　reactions　ranging　from　a　long；　slow　smile　to　a
  cheery　“Where　did　you　learn　that？”　to　loud　and　joyous　laughter　to　the　exclamation；　“You
  must　know　Haiti　well！”
  Don’t　get　the　idea　that　Haitians　are　the　only　ones　susceptible　to　the　charm　of
  hearing　a　few　words　of　their　language。　They　just　may　be　more　demonstrative　than　most
  in　showing　it。　Romanian　cab　drivers　have　turned　off　the　metre　and　given　me　a　free　ride　in
  return　for　my　“Good　morning”　in　Romanian。　A　Soviet　Georgian　cab　driver　refused　to
  take　my　money　and　invited　me　to　Sunday　dinner　at　his　home；　one　of　the　tastiest　treats　and
  most　interesting　evenings　I’ve　ever　enjoyed。　An　Indonesian　cab　driver　screamed　–　that’s
  all；　just　screamed　–　upon　hearing　“Thank　you”　in　his　language。
  I’ve　long　suspected　there’s　a　memo　posted　in　the　kitchen　of　every　Chinese
  restaurant　in　America　instructing　all　personnel　not　to　let　any　American　who　exhibits　any
  knowledge　of　Chinese　go　unrewarded。　Try　this　experience；　just　to　taste　the　power。
  The　Chinese　term　for　“chopsticks”　is　kwai　dze。　The　first　word　is　pronounced　like
  the　Asian　river　the　American　war　prisoners　built　the　bridge　over。　The　second　word
  sounds　like　the　ds　in　“suds。”
  The　next　time　you’re　in　a　Chinese　restaurant；　smile　at　the　waiter　and　say　“Kwai
  dze。”　When　he　brings　the　chopsticks；　smile　again　and　say；　“Shieh；　shieh”　（“Thank
  you”）。　Pronounce　that　as　you　should　“she　expects；”　making　sure　you　never　get　as　far　as
  the　x　and　accentuating　the　“she”。　The　immediate　payoffs　on　this　one　can　range　from　a
  free　plum　brandy　cocktail　at　the　end　of　the　meal　clear　over　to　a　stubborn　refusal　to　let　you
  pay。　The　more　subtle；　and　satisfying；　payoff　is　that　they　will　assume　you　know　not　only
  the　rest　of　the　Chinese　language　but　the　Chinese　cuisine　as　well；　and　they’ll　probably
  give　you　no　less　than　the　absolute　finest　the　house　can　produce　every　time　they　see　you
  come　in。
  Your　rewards　for　knowing　even　a　paltry　few　words　of　a　language　vary　in　inverse
  proportion　to　the　likelihood　that　you’ll　know　any　at　all。　A　German　baker　isn’t　likely　to
  endorse　his　whole　day’s　profit　on　strudel　over　to　your　favourite　charity　merely　because
  you　enter　his　shop　with　a　big　“Guten　Tag”　（“Good　day”）；　but　an　Albanian　baker　might　if
  you　enter　with　“Tungjatjeta。”　You　won’t　knock　French　socks　off　with　a　“Comment
  allez…vous？”　（“How　are　you？”）；　but　you　may　set　winter　gloves　flying　in　Helsinki　with　a
  correctly　pronounced　“（Hyv。。　P。iv。。）”　（“Good　morning”）。
  Don’t　overdo　it。　I’ve　known　cab　drivers　from　obscure　countries　almost　drive　off　the
  road　when　they’re　surprised　with　a　burst　of　their　native　tongue　from　an　American
  passenger；　and　once　I　had　a　Chinese　waitress　in　a　Jewish　delicatessen　（honest！）　get　so
  rattled　when　I　ordered　for　our　party　in　Chinese　that　she　messed　up　our　order　beyond
  redemption。
  I　have　many　times　ignited　what　looked　like　spontaneous　street　festivals　by　hailing
  groups　of　people　on　the　sidewalk　in　the　language　I　heard　them　speaking。　They　frequently
  stop；　return　the　greeting；　and　then　start　hobnobbing　with　the　people　in　my　group；　leading
  to　laughs；　the　exchange　of　addresses；　dates　for　later　on；　and；　I　suspect；　even　more！　I’ve
  never　understood　the　joy　of　bagging　a　bird　or　a　deer　and　watching　it　fall　to　the　ground。
  My　joy　is　bagging　strangers　from　other　countries　with　the　right　greeting　in　the　right
  language　and　watching　them　come　to　a　halt　and　become　old　friends　at　once。
  The　material　payoffs　of　learning　foreign　languages　are　many　and　predictable；
  though　perhaps　a　bit　surprising　in　their　scope。　In　early　1990　a　friend　told　me　he　was
  looking　to　fill　a　job　paying　650；000　a　year；　qualifications：　attorney；　knowledge　of
  Russian；　and　willingness　to　relocate　to　Moscow。　I　prefer　the　psychological　payoffs　of
  studying　foreign　languages　–　pleasures　so　keep　you　could　almost　call　them　spiritual。
  They　joy　of　a　true　mathematician　escalates　as　he　moves　from　algebra　to
  trigonometry　to　calculus。　Likewise；　the　joy　of　the　true　language　lover　escalates　as　he
  advances　from　what　I　call　“Foreign　1”　to　“Foreign　2。”　Foreign　1　is　interpreting　or
  translating　（interpreters　speak；　translators　write）　from　your　native　language　to　a　foreign
  one。　Foreign　2　is　doing　it　from　one　language　that’s　foreign　to　you　to　another　one　that’s
  foreign　to　you。
  You　are　permitted　to　feel　like　Superman　when　you　pull　off　such　a　feat。　You　are　not
  permitted　to　act　like　Superman；　nor　are　you　permitted　to　let　on　that　you　feel　like
  Superman。　You　mien　should　approximate　that　of　a　bored　New　York　commuter　telling　a
  stranger　how　many　stops　there　are　between　Grand　Central　Station　and　New　Rochelle。
  The　best　Foreign　2　feeling　I　ever　had　was　interpreting　for　Finns　trying　to
  communicate　with　Hungarians。　Finnish　and　Hungarian　are　widely　hailed　as　the　most
  difficult　languages　in　the　world。　They’re　relat