All emigrants are 'bipolar'.
A young couple sitting by my side on the airplane. They speak both Portuguese and German perfectly. They change from one language to another with no possible traceable reason. For there is none.
I am too an emigrant. There, I said it. Years ago I would say I'm just studying abroad, then I was a mere freely, then a student again. I Am An Emigrant.
Socially speaking though, for in my mind there aren't frontiers, we're all the same, we're human and we're the strangest animal on this planet. Period.
But back to the couple. I'm puzzled. I try to find some sort of pattern, particular lane changes, subtle paths of thought. Can't find anything. Zip, niente, nada.
Odd feeling when I know I do exactly the same. Wait, even a tad more. I think, dream, write and even curse in three languages. What does that make me? A 'tripolar' emigrant?
Oh well, does it really matter? So what if I speak in all three? Dream, write? Curse? Ain't I a citizen of this planet? The whole freaking world?
So, dear neighbour couple, go ahead and delight me with your back and forth change of language.
Words are there to be used and it is wonderful when one is able to use them in more than one tongue. How narrow, how sad it must be to be constrained to a single one.
Wouldn't it be marvellous to comprehend all of them? Although… the unknown spiced with delightful mystery is much more interesting and actually quite necessary for the mind training. Just imagine, if we’d knew everything, what would be there more to learn?